Over the next few years I used these sketches to make oil paintings. This is fairly recent behavior. In fact, I've spent a considerable amount of time wandering in the Scottish hills avoiding making paintings of them. Landscape painting, especially of mountains, is all tied up with the Romantic and Sublime, which often descends into cliché. I overcame this reluctance by wanting to make paintings as if I was an explorer, the first to visit and make an image of a place that none had seen before.
In a country that over thousands of years has been hunted out, deforested, over grazed, farmed, fought over, industrialised, painted, mapped, photographed, pierced by roads and railways and with thousands of tourists crawling all over it, is this possible? Probably not, but it is better to try and see what I can make of it. It can't be wrong to paint what I love.
Creish hills from Kingshouse Inn Mixed media on paper, 38 x 56cms. |
The artist in search of the Picturesque sits bemused in the corner of the canvas. The collie dog barks as it's owner runs up to put it on the lead. Walkers pass on the West Highland Way and the wonderful Creish hills have disappeared. Kingshouse Inn has sprouted a wind turbine and traffic thunders along the A82. Pylons stride across the moor from hydro dams.
This painting, then, is a prophecy, one that I hope never comes to pass.
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