British Landscape Paintings & Prints

Time to put the canvas down

I've decided to shelve my Wolds series painting project (sad face). It's now filed under 'Projects for 2021'.

Can't say I'm happy about it, but I was getting nowhere. The lack of productivity was getting too much for me, so I've faced it and decided.

The list of this year's onslaught is a long one now, isn't it? First the storms Dennis, Ciara, and Jorge. Then fast on the heels of the first hints of Spring, came the virus.

Sketching outside in the hills became a criminal activity! A landscape artist without any landscape… is as forlorn as a cowboy without any cows.

Now that lockdown is easing, the weather is dreadful. Ho-hum. Knowing when to let go of something is healthy, allegedly.

An artist who can't eat flies

There's something else to understand too. I love the Wolds, but we're rapidly heading into fly season.

Settling down in the valleys to sketch, or paint, is quite an experience at this time of year.

I'm not sure why it's so bad in this particular area, but there are plagues of flies to pick off your art. And when I say a plague, I'm not joking – I have the painting to prove it.

Though I think of myself as reasonably hardy, clouds of insects battering my face get to me, and I beat a retreat. Should I ever be asked, I know the answer to the question: 'how many flies can you eat?'.

It's not so bad if you're on the move, or higher up the slopes in a breeze. Of course, I'd decided my series had to concentrate on viewpoints down in the valley bottom. I would, wouldn't I.

A fine landscape view

Choice of viewpoint in landscape art is critical. It's something I spend a lot of time on before deciding.

Sometimes the view sorts itself out. You rock‑up and stubble about, and then suddenly you're stood where everything falls into place.

More often, there's a tree that sits wrong, or the line of a track cuts the canvas in half too uniformly… and umpteen other things that don't sit right.

It's why I use a lot of what's called artistic license; why I move things, like trees, tracks, shrubs, and even hills! It's called 'composing' the picture.

I'm also always seeking the iconic view – the view. The one that captures the scene in a way no other does. And it's often the view no one else paints, strangely. I know!

So I have started some paintings, and some are nearly finished. They're artworks I've wanted to paint before but didn't get round to them. Then I forgot about them.

As well as that, I've been working away on this website (though I've not launched anything yet). I'm adding a 'buy' option, so you won't have to email me.

It's so complicated doing it properly! A discount system, especially. But if someone buys more than one, then it's only fair they get a little something off the second.

I've got lots of cards and a couple of small books to photograph and upload too. It's work I've not got round to before.

So all‑in‑all

Lockdown hasn't been all bad (for me, luckily). My garden looks better than it's ever done. That's helped me be trimmer too!

And I'm as busy as ever. An artist's work is never done. There's the paintings above, this website and new prints to design.

I've also some more linocuts to get framed, because the lovely flowers at one of my galleries sold a few prints during lockdown.

Hope you've avoided cabin fever, and all those you care about are OK.

From the single blade of grass and the magical, mysterious thing we call a cloud, to the epic and breathtaking vista, it all still fascinates this kid.

It's why I make British landscape paintings and art prints now.

Naturally, Yorkshire subjects dominate my collection at this time. I'm ever hopeful of being able to paint further afield, though. I've already got many sketches of 'foreign' parts elsewhere in the UK waiting for paint or lino.