These three villages Landimore, Llanrhidian and Llanmadoc, are on the northern side of Gower, away from the busy beaches of Caswell, Three Cliffs Bay, Oxwich and Port Eynon. The “Llan” part of the place names originally refered to an enclosed area of land- usually a church or monastic cell. Landimore is the English version of the placename, in Welsh it is “Llandimore”. I liked the challenge of painting these lesser-known Gower villages (I am sure they are very well-known to the locals) especially the Britannia Inn at Llanmadoc from high up!
We have now been back in Swansea since the end of January. The move from Derry with three cats and a dog was very tiring indeed!
Until last week’s six days of glorious sunshine, it has rained almost constantly here. This has kept us indoors, reluctantly, and unable to enjoy the Gower Coast, or able to look for inspiration for subject matter for paintings. It has been a pretty depressing to be honest. So with last week’s sun, we spent nearly every day re-aquainting ourselves with this wonderful landscape. By we, I mean my husband, myself and our dog, Effie the collie, who absolutely loved running herself into the ground, or sand, in the beautiful beaches of Three Cliffs Bay, Tor Bay, Mewslade Bay and Rhossili Bay. My husband, Seamus, also managed to fit in the Knave, a gorgeous area between Mewslade and Port Eynon.
The Knave
I have been using my Canon camera but my husband has also been experimenting with compositions photographed by drone. We have (had – one was lost near Mewslade) two DJI Mini 2 drones which are fairly basic compared to some but which are quality enough to take drone photography good enough to paint from, which is really the whole point.
We initially used drone photography partly as a response to living in Ireland, especially the Republic of Ireland, where some beautiful landscape was sometimes inaccessible or on private land so we would have fly above it to get a good view of it.
We also found that the drone did not have to be that high off the ground to be produce interesting shots. Compositions seemed to improve from only 10 or 20 foot in the air. We rarely go too far above the landscape feature we are trying to photograph.
Coming back to Swansea and intending to repaint “old ground”, so to speak, it is important for me to keep things fresh, otherwise my work can become laboured or even slightly bored painting the same subject matter in the same way as before. So drone photography helps freshen up the process. It also helps one to re-imagine compositions in terms of landscape painting.
It has helped me see composition in a new way and it has also helped us to become more aware of how various bits of Gower landscape “fit ” together.
There are no longer isolated, and seemingly unconnected, areas anymore.
For example, the photo above shows the Worms Head area with Fall and Mewslade bays behind and the Knave beyond that. The various areas of landscape now form a more coherent whole. I will give some examples below of the images we have been capturing down in Three Cliffs Bay and Tor Bay and how they have resulted in a couple of paintings.
Three Cliffs
Droning is also good fun, flying around the countryside having a bird’s eye view of the landscape is strangely liberating and, at times, exhilarating – so says Seamus (I find it quite alarming at times, I dont have his nerves of steel).
Effie, our dog, had her first excursion down Three Cliffs which saw us walk down the rocky paths and great sandy swathes from Penmaen car park to Three Cliffs Bay.
How great it was to see those monumental stacks again, like seeing an old friend, rising impossibly from the sandy ground. Effie was pretty good with the other dogs on the beach who were trying to join in with her ball chasing fun. Fortunately she is ball-chasing obsessed and as long as she has a job to do, some work, she is fairly singleminded and behaves well.
This was a relief, as we were worried it might take some adjustment for her as her previous experience of beaches were 2-mile empty beaches in Inishowen and in West Donegal where she rarely came across other dogs. Also, Donegal people are often so polite that they leave the beach when you arrive and let you have free run of it to yourself. It is great having a beach to yourself, a real treat and luxury!
Great Tor, GowerEffie at Three Cliffs, Gower (I have the ball)
In Gower, even in early Spring, there are numerous other dogs to contend with, but most are just out having a great time like Effie, so are generally not much trouble. It has been great seeing Effie have so much fun, she loves running on the beach.
Effie on Rhossili Beach with Worms Head behind (again I have the ball and her attention!)
My husband droned Three Cliffs the week before when the tide was in. It was out when we were there.
Three Cliffs, Gower
My first drone photography inspired paintings were both of Great Tor and I am presently working on my first Three Cliffs paintings since I have returned.
I have been working on commissions in the last few weeks.
Although this is of the same Tor it looks very different. Drone photography allows you to explore different aspects of the same subject matter. It allows you to see things differently from different heights and angles. Much like a person’s face can appear different from different profiles. This keeps the creative juices flowing as it is possible to re-imagine similiar subject matter in so many more ways.
Plus all these aspects can combine with photographying at different times of the year with different light. For example as the days draw longer, it will be possible to drone on the other side of Great Tor, a side usually in dark shade at present. Longer Summer days will provide new aspects and new compositions.
The possibilties for composition are greatly increased with droning. For example, the colours in this second painting seem warmer as the drone is lower and reflects the sandy orange rather than in Great Tor #1 where the drone is higher and is reflecting the sky and the painting is more imbued with blue-tinged light. It took a while to realise how the height of the drone greatly influences colour. This is an area which I find very interesting. With a camera, light and colour is relatively more stable and predictable. With a drone so many more variables around light, colour and composition come into play.
So that is it for now. I will blog again soon and hope to blog more frequently in future.
The west coast of Ireland is dotted with islands, big and small but also plenty of sea stacks. Perhaps, they were once sea arches, I am not sure. If they were the crown of the arch fell in to create these majestic pillars. They can be seen from miles away. Even on misty days. This one, Tormore (in the painting above and below) is miles away, near a very remote location called Glenlough Bay. There is something exciting and other worldly and timeless about it.
Rossbeg Beach, Donegal (Photo credit:Emma Cownie)
Rossbeg (sometimes spelt Rosbeg) is a tiny townland on the west coast of Donegal, just three miles south-west of Portnua and Nairn. This is the Dawros Peninsula. There is a pier and a scattering of houses, some are modern, but many are old cottages, probably used as holiday lets.
Rossbeg on the MapBoat on Rossbeg Beach: Photo Credit:- Emma CownieRossbeg Beach, Donegal (Tide further in): Photo Credit:Emma Cowniehttps://www.johnhindecollection.com
The beach and the view is just perfect. The water is so very clear that the rocks and seaweed are visible from quite some distance from the shore.
Rossbeg Pier (From Marina.com) note the cows on the baechRossbeg Pier (From Marina.com) You can see the seaweed from up high too!Rossbeg Beach:- Photo Credit Séamas Johnston
I have decided that perfect is the enemy of good, and I need to give up on the idea that I should write lengthy blogs posts, as I end up writing nothing! So here goes,
Two grey scale paintings
One of the many great things about being back in West Donegal is that I can paint much larger paintings as my art studio is much bigger here than in Derry. So I now have two on the go!
Donegal Greyscale #1
These are both painted in acrylic paint. I find it easier to make adjustment in the value/tones in acrylic before I move onto a layer of oil as a final layer. Acrylic can act as a foundation layer for oil, but not the other way around. I had forgotten how physically tiring painting a large painting is. My arms are tired!
Donegal Greyscale #2
If you want to know about Greyscaling and why I have adopted this technique since moving to Ireland please see my post “Adventures In Acrylic Paint”
Bloody Foreland is one of my favourite locations in Donegal. It is one of the wildest, windiest and most beautiful places I have been. The light is sharp and clear. You feel healthier for breathing the air here.
House on Cnoc Fola
The wind is always blowing. It is very remote and feels a bit like the edge of the known-world.
A derelict house, Bloody Foreland
The name Bloody Foreland (Cnoc Fola in Irish means Hill of Blood) does not to refer to some past battle that took place here in mythic times, but intense red hue of the rocks at sunset. The Irish language dominates here.
Folklore records that Balor, the one-eyed supernatural warlord was eventually slain by his grandson Lugh Lámh Fhada on the slopes of Cnoc Fola. Indeed, some say that the tide of blood which flowed from Balor’s evil eye stained the hillside and gave it its name.
Bloody Foreland, Donegal
I particularly like the incredible stone walls, made of massive granite boulders, that snake across the hills here. They date from the 1890s. They suggest to me a landscape where stones were plentiful and labour cheap. It is also the sort of place where writers come to get away from the modern world and think about writing. Dylan Thomas, travelled to An Port, further south to write poetry, but left without paying his bills.
Old Farm Buildings, Bloddy Foreland
Bloody Foreland, also makes a refreshing contrast to the slopes of Brinlack and Derrybeg, round the corner, which are heavily peppered with larger modern houses and bungalows from the era of “Bungalow Bliss“.
Houses on Bloody Foreland, Donegal
This is the first time that I have been able to paint Ireland whilst in Ireland. Previously, I have worked from my photos back in Wales. Now I think that being surrounded by these colours all the time is affecting my work in a different way.
I am experimenting a little with less detail and letting my under painting show through more – to give a greater sense of the roughness of the landscape here. I am feeling my way. I don’t know how my paintings will develop in the future, but not knowing is a sort of freedom from painting the same thing in the same sort of way.
Here’s my summer newsletter. I am shutting up shop for a month from 20th June to 20th July. All going well, we will be safely installed and open for business (online at least) in Donegal by mid-July. I am already longing to get back to my painting routine. I can’t quite believe that after being ground so long by my broken leg and the pandemic that we will actually move house/studio to another country by then. It’s a huge step! Fingers crossed it all goes smoothly!
I love the Donegal islands for their peace and quiet. Oh, the relative absence of cars, the abundance of nature but I particularly love their houses. You may have noticed that I painted quite a few of them, lately; lovely long strings of houses.
Across to Inishbofin SOLD
I love their simple clean lines. I enjoy the old-style aesthetic. In Donegal, houses were whitewashed and woodwork was painted red. You still see a few houses like this. Sometimes you might see one with a thatched roof. Usually, their thatch has been replaced with tiled roofs.
Traditional Donegal House (with a thatched roof)
When is a house a cottage? When it’s small and old and hand-built by its inhabitant, I suppose. In England, the term cottage originates from the Anglo-Saxon term for the peasant or “cottar”, in Irish the word for these houses is “teachin” or “teach beag” which means small house. You can watch a short film on how to say “teach” in Irish here, you may think that word looks like an English word, but it’s pronounced very differently in Irish.
Cottages literally grew out of the landscape that surrounded them. It stands to reason that in the past homes were built from local materials. If the stones and wood had to be carried by donkey or man-power it wasn’t likely to come from very far away. Stone would predominantly be used in coastal and rocky areas, muddy clay in the midlands and even turf in boggy areas.
Cottages came in different sizes; from the tiny laborer’s cottage or Bothán Scóir (a one-roomed house with mud floors and often not even a window); the byre dwelling (a slightly larger cottage that was shared with the animals) to the thatched mansions – two-storey thatched farmhouses that were often extended from single-storey cottages as the occupants become wealthier.
In Donegal “direct entry” houses were typical, where the front door open directly into the room with the fireplace. The most popular form of cottage is that with the living area at the center with the hearth fireplace and a bedroom on either end.
The fireplace or hearth usually formed of stone and located at the center of the house with a bedroom behind it to further absorb the heat. Most families lived in a single room.
Traditional large fireplace (Kerrytown, Donegal)
Interior of cottage with family. Aran Islands, Co. Galway, c. 1900
Note the bed by the fire
In rural Ireland, they did not usually own the land it stood on. This is why landlords could evict tenants for non-payment of rent (usually, if they wanted to replace people with more profitable sheep), even those the occupants had built those houses themselves. In the case of John George Adair of Gleanveagh, he had the houses pulled down after the tenants were thrown out! This was common eviction practice. Anyone who has seen the excellent film Black 47 will know that this practice, could and did, lead to the death of old and frail tenants in winter.
Over to the Rosses (Donegal, Ireland) SOLD
Houses were designed through necessity. The general rule was that the front door of the cottage faced south, to shelter the house from the prevailing westerly winds. Windows were small in order to retain heat in the winter and to keep cool in the summer. Ground floor windows usually faced to the south, not on the gable ends.
Meadow Cottage – note the first-floor window in the gable end
There were often small windows on the first floor of the gable walls where there were loft accommodations. The walls of a cottage were typically about 600mm thick to support the roof and beams, this led to the attractive deep window reveals found in most cottages.
Cottage with outhouse (Gweedore)
You may have noticed that many old Irish houses are not one single unified block, but are made up of several extensions, a kitchen at the back, an extra room to the side. Homes were enlarged when money was available. Often this money was earnt far away from home as hardship forced family members to look for seasonal work far away in Derry, Tyrone or even in Scotland.
A House on Gola SOLD
Modern houses in Donegal, like modern houses in most places, are comfortable, spacious with plenty of windows. Older people, here as elsewhere, I suspect prefer bungalows for their lack of stairs.
New Houses, Letterkenny, Donegal
Yet, there is still a space for the old style. On Cruit Island there is a holiday village of new-build holiday homes in the “old” style.
They are single story with thatched roofs but they are large, comfortable, and furnished with wooden rocking chairs, and folksy bedspreads. They also have a beach a stone’s throw away. Obviously, there are real old houses you can stay in on Cruit Island too.
Donegal thatched cottage #2 SOLD
I sometimes wonder if I am painting a “fake” version of Ireland. I am giving the impression that all of Donegal is covered in little quaint white houses? It isn’t, but they are there. Especially in the Rosses and on the islands. Not all of the houses are quaint in North-West Ireland; the “bungalow blight” that affects parts of Donegal has been commented on by others. I suppose I am drawn to the clean lines of the old houses.
On the Way to Arranmore (SOLD)
This is a theme I have explored in a different context, previously. A couple of years ago I explored the “Hollowed Community” of Brynmill and painted the Edwardian terraces that surround my home in Swansea. I was also interested in a lost community. The old way of life (pre-internet) that is fast vanishing, where your neighbors lived next to you for years, not for weeks or just the summer months.
I am delighted to have sold “Koei 1509”, a painting of a South African cow, to a collector in Oxfordshire, England. The painting was based on a photograph by talented photographer Herman von Bon, who generously allowed me to use his image. Herman photographs the South African landscape along with its people and animals. I particular like his wildlife photography.
Koei 1509
I like cows. I love all animals. I come from a family of animal lovers. I get pleasure from just looking at animals. I really enjoy painting them but I find it hard to part with my animal paintings.
Cows are the reason why I stopped eating meat a long time ago. When I was a post-graduate student at Cardiff University in the 1990s I spent a day cycling along the the flat marsh road that lies between Cardiff and Newport. It’s about 10 miles. On my way back, I stopped at a gate for a rest. I group of curious youngsters, Fresians, came up to gate to investigate me. They were cautious but seemed to egg each other on to come closer and stick out their noses to me. They amused me. I thought they were funny and sweet.
I stood for quite a while looking at them. Listening to them breathe. Cows have intelligent eyes. Big brown eyes. They weren’t essentially any different from the many animals my family had kept as pets over the years; cats, dogs and rabbits. Suddenly the thought came to me “I eat you and your friends”. I felt awful. Very guilty.
It felt very unnecessary. I don’t need to eat meat. So I decided to stop. I’d been thinking about for for some time. People sometimes ask why I am a vegetarian and I could mention things such as the cruelty of factory farming, the environmental cost but I have never felt comfortable eating sentient creatures. I always felt a hypocrite for eating Sunday roast, no matter how tasty it was.
Hereford Red (Sold)
Many of my university friends were veggies but I didn’t like many vegetables (potatoes and peas was about it for many years) and I wasn’t sure what I would eat. To be honest, I was lazy. I had to learn to cook vegetarian meals. I started with a lot of pesto and pasta. A friend of mine recommended a Rose Elliot cook book and I painstakingly read the recipes (there were no photos in the book) and I eventually learnt a few recipes off by heart. It was a bit of a slog but I felt much better for it, physically and mentally.
Although I don’t think that I paint cows all that often, they have added up over the years. I love Hereford cattle in particular. I was born in that English county and I love the russet red of their coats. You don’t see that many of them on Gower.
Punk Cow (SOLD)
I seems to have painted Frisians the most – probably because I like the contrast of their black and white coats.
Gower Cow (SOLD)
Gower Cow
I never paint “generic” cows. These are all real cows. All individuals. I found Gower Cow on the slopes of Cefn Bryn at the Penmaen end. She was chewing the cud with a small group of friends.
Grazing at Pwll Du
The cow at Pwll Du was also with a group of friends, small herd I suppose, who came out of the undergrowth and started grazing on the grass by the stream at Pwll Du.
Lady Muck
Writing this post got me thinking about the History of the cow in Art. There’s a lot to it so I have decided to save that for my next post.
When I get hold of an idea I can get quite obsessive about it. Lately, it’s been early morning light. I think it sprang from a post I wrote about transposing some of the techniques I used for my “Urban Minimal” project to what I only half-jokingly called “Rural Minimal”. I think that my rural Gower houses did fulfil the spirit of “Rural Minimal” but it got me think about shadows. Now, shadows were my first love. They still are. It’s hard to find any painting of mine without blue/mauve/purple/brown shadows. I go through tubes of Lukas 1862 Mauve at a steady rate. Many of my Gower woodland paintings used early morning winter light.
[wpecpp name=”Enchanted Wood Large Print ” price=”45″ align=”left”]
And why do I love shadows so much? It’s because they act as a foil to the light. The orange next to the dark mauve positively leaps off the canvas. Perhaps, its a cheap way of thrilling the viewer? I am always very impressed by artists who capture a gloomy or overcast landscape. Plein Air painters prefer overcast conditions because they are more constant and American artist, Jeremy Sams, demonstrates this really well in his painting. He says “The good thing about painting on an overcast day is that you don’t have to chase shadows. The light remains very constant and my acrylic paints stay wet for a good long while.”
Jeremy Sam’s Plein Air Study
However, I love shadows. They make a composition interesting and dynamic. So, anyway, the post about Rural Minimal got me thinking about shadows in rural settings. I realised that because I have been focusing on my Gower Walks and working to bus timetables that I was mostly walking in the late morning and finishing up in the early afternoon. I was becoming increasing frustrated that my lovely walks weren’t inspiring the sort of paintings I like to make. The light wasn’t right. Midday light, especially in the summer, has a tendency to bleach out the details. This is what shadows “do”, they show us the details of the landscape.
Light Shadow (SOLD)
I have always been a morning person. Each morning is like a fresh start to me. What ever happened yesterday, last night is gone.To be honest, I think that have always done my best work by 11 am. When I was writing my PhD thesis, many years ago, I’d do my best writing between at 8 and 11 am. To be honest, most of the work I did after 11 am was fact checking (this was in the days before the interest when you had to look things up in books) and faffing, but I’d dutifully stay at my desk til 5 pm.
Bernard Street Bus Stop (Back of Brynmill Launderette) SOLD
So I decided that I need to seek out early morning light on Gower. This long spell of hot weather meant that morning skies were often (but not always) clear. That meant getting up early. I have been dragging myself out of bed just after sunrise. It’s summer and the sun rises just after 5 am in here Wales. It is painful getting up that early but once I have had a cup of coffee I can face the outside world, just about.
The first time I drove down to Three Cliffs Bay, 6 miles away, I was so tired that I actually forgot my camera! I felt so stupid but I got back in my car and drove back home to fetch the darn thing, delaying my “start” by 30 minutes.
Pobbles Bay after 8am
Compare the light and shadows to yesterday morning (when I remembered my camera) and actually got there for about 6.30am.
Pobbles Bay 6.30 am
It’s different. Not necessarily better, just different. Do you know what, it doesn’t matter. I like both conditions. The changing tides always also variety and interest. Summer Morning light has a beautiful rich quality to it and I like seeing how it changes, the shadows shorten, darken, light break over the cliffs, as the morning progresses. I have sat down on the cliff tops and watch the light change.
Early Morning, Three Cliffs (SOLD) (Oil on Linen canvas, 80×60 cm, unframed)
I like seeing nature first thing. I like seeing the dew. In this very dry summer it’s a godsend. The grass on rolling fairways of Pennard golf course has turned the colour of straw except for the patches where the dew collects in the morning. There it’s a fresh green. Walking down towards the sea, along the sandy path by the golf course, I often see the white tails of wild rabbits dashing into the undergrowth. Their numbers in the UK have fallen in recent decades but thankfully, there seem to be plenty on Gower.
Welsh Wild Rabbit
Free-range cows roam the cliffs of Pennard and South Gate as well as the valley next to Three Cliffs Bay. They are usually busily eating the grass they can find down in the marshy valley or in the shadows of the thorny gorse bushes, or even in the Golf Club car park before the golfers arrive!
Cow at Pennard
Cows chewing the cud (mid morning) and cows at work, eating grass (early morning).
I delight in the long shadows and the reflections at low tide. How the reflected light is more golden than the light on the rocky cliffs.
Three Cliffs Reflections (SOLD Oil on Linen canvas , 80x50cm, unframed)
At high tide the colours all change again.
I have got up early and visited Rhossili, Penmaen and Three Cliffs Bay six times in the past fortnight. This includes the morning I thought the light cloud would clear but instead it thickened. A passing Jack Russell was photographed, as well as the rabbit above. So, I sat down and sketched.
I will keep going until this weather goes off, while may well be very soon. I will be working from this research for quite a while after it has clouded over again.
A while back, last June in fact, I read an excellent blog post by American artist Luann Udell entitled “How Long Did It Take You To Make That?” in which she discusses all time-consuming processes and skill that go into creating her pieces. It occurred to me that while the actual time it takes to paint my work may take anything from one to three days, depending on the size of the canvas, the actual thinking, planning, gestation, waiting for the weather and preparation takes a lot longer. I should also include in that waiting for the seasons to change. Just yesterday I was remarking to my husband that the heather was starting to flower and so another visit to Rhossili Downs would be in order soon. Nothing stays the same in nature, or in life! My job is to observe and attempt to capture some of those fleeting changes.
Enquiries about Commission Always Welcome – Find out more here
I have been asked to be a curator for Artfinder.com. This means I will put together an art collection for the online gallery http://www.artfinder.com. I am very excited and honoured by this chance. I have been represented by Artfinder since 2013 and I have sold 599 works through them. The site has grown and grown over the years and now represents over 10,000 artists.
It’s not the biggest site out there but for several years its been the best one for independent artists. I’ll explain why.
Each artist is given a lot of control over their own page or “store front”. You can directly upload photos of your paintings to the site without waiting for an administrator to approve it. You can also directly contact collectors through their messaging system, rather than through the administrator. This makes customer care a whole lot easier.
There are many very talented artists on the site but the increase in the sheer number of artists has made it more and more difficult to be “seen”. So being a curator for the day is my chance to bring attention to the many excellent and talented artists on the site.
As a teenager I used to fantasizing about having the chance to do a supermarket sweep. I used to think about where I would direct my trolley and what to sweep into the trolley in less than three minutes. Funny, how that has no appeal to me these days although, I do like to get in and out of the supermarket in a short amount of time as possible! Twenty minutes, in and out and I am happy.
This is going to take a bit longer than that!
Andrew Reid Wildman
So I have my chance to “sweep” about 150 artworks into my basket or collection. I am very excited by this. Over the years I have book marked and pinned artworks that have caught my eye and here’s my chance to show them off to the world. I try not to think too much about it. There are some artists who spring to mind immediately like Jane Kell and Andrew Reid Wildman, whom I know I want to have in the collection and others I have to look in my bookmarked collection to remind myself of their names, and a few who present themselves to me as I look through the new art on the site.
Snehal Page
James Earley
I have largely gone with works that highlight colour and light such as Snehal Page’s vivid oil portraits and Sri Rao’s colorful landscapes.
There many artists’ who skill with the paint brush has me in awe especially people like James Earley and Abi Whitlock.
One hundred and fifty painting may seem like a lot but it isn’t. I want to include as many artists as I can with out the collection becoming too “bity”. So some artists get as many as 4 paintings but other only one. I am hoping that the choices I have made will tempt collectors to click on their names and take note and “follow” them or even better buy their work/s. I believe that art is about a conversation between the artists and the viewer.
John Kerr
I say conversation, but I believe that good art provokes an emotional reaction in the viewer; whether it is joy at the remembrance of a summer’s day at the seaside, or empathy with the humanity in another’s face or posture.
James Henry Johnston
As viewers we invest a lot of energy in choosing our favourites, we follow their progress and want them to do well. I am only the 5th artist (I think) who has been asked to put together a collection but I am hoping this a successful collection and other artists are asked to do the same thing.
If you wish to view the whole collection, you can see it here
