I made that splash precisely a year ago today. And what a year it’s been. I wanted to splash things from a height for a long time. Somehow New Year’s Eve 2019 was the perfect time. I remember stealing into the studio and making two cerise type pinks balanced with an apple green as my flying colours. I laid the large canvas flat on the ground and went upstairs to set up my ammunition.
Then I let fly with the pink, just abandoning myself to luck. It felt great. The darker pink followed, then the green. Once I had no paint left, I walked down to see the results.
The canvas had to stay flat on the ground for another week or so before it was dry enough to hang on the wall. I worked into it slowly over the coming months, in Spring I added a tall yellow shape with wings to lighten it a bit. A few months later, I painted the swath of red at the bottom, which seemed to bring order to the surrounding chaos.
The flower in the top left-hand corner came from working in my lockdown studio, surrounded by flowers. I think their colours seeped into a lot of the paintings osmotically. The linear blue structure at the bottom came from drawings I did while in Berlin.
For me, the splash is like a craziness in a piece of music that is somehow mellowed by an organised slow placement of different forms. It’s a dance of instant chaos and slow, methodical choices. I haven’t splashed paint in this way since, but looking at the video now all these months later, I want to do some more.
Routes are created by choices, taking you to known spaces or surprises. Paintings take many paths. When I start to work on a new canvas, I have no idea where it will go, literally and figuratively. So I take any chance to travel and bring my work with me in whatever form possible, like these paintings I started in Ireland and brought to Italy. I like the (long!) drive to Italy - it’s a great time for …
I don't think you could or should explain any piece of art entirely because it cuts it off from alternative interpretations. What I want to do here is talk about the things that happened around it, the things that pushed it into what it became. It was the largest oil on canvas I painted during my time in Berlin. The video was filmed in my Berlin…
A short video discussing the inspiration for "New Year's Eve Berlin (After Whistler)", one of the large oil paintings I have been working on during my time here in Berlin.
I just walked by this large diptych in a Berlin underground station. I think it reflects that idea of art being all around us. Those gorgeous chocolate browns mixed with cappuccino greys sitting next to its silent neighbour, encased by a smoky green...
Being down the docks in a hot country is like being in a giant open air gallery. It's buzzing with art DNA, sun bleached surfaces, patinas of decay and man made linear marks that are right at home in an abstract painting.
It probably sounds a bit iffy when I say that something came to me in a dream but last night something did. When I walked passed my paintings this morning an image I dreamt about came back to me. I ran over, took up a dirty oil paint brush and sketched it on the back of a canvas. Later, over coffee, I sketched the motif a ...
This is the last of the herringbone linen I got from an old mill in Germany. I first used it in this series of small oil paintings in 2010. I have been wanting to stretch it up for years but somehow never got around to it so I brought it to Italy...
A few weeks ago I worked with Johnny Bugler to create a set of prints that I could paint on to. The idea came to me when I found some etching proofs I had worked on in 2007. I see these etchings as a background, an elaborate canvas. They are an attempt to create the essence of a bit of linen that was laying around the studio for while, picking up colour debris and studio DNA, before being stretched up and becoming a painting. Working on the etching plates...
Paintings are messers with minds of their own. You bring them somewhere, tell them to stay, and then they change direction and become something completely different. They can be stubborn, unhelpful, unyielding, sometimes shy, sometimes grandiose, often self-destructive. Listening to….
It's mad being a painter and at times it’s maddeningly slow. I brought a bunch of new canvases and spent the past while building up layers to get them into my “pool of pieces on the go”. I don’t know yet, but right now it seems like this process might...
When flames and snakes are your neighbours, they can't help but be part of the story. This rough, heavy-duty cotton canvas has been in my studio for probably eight years. It was unprimed, so I spent months applying thin layers of oil paint before it went anywhere. I like the dryness that comes from all that soakage and the roughness of the surface. There were wildfires near the sea, and you could see the glow of orange at night in the distance. I was grappling with a shape similar to the one I am painting here back in Ireland. I tried it again when I got to Italy, but it wasn't until I saw the shape as a flame that it unlocked itself. On some of the smaller landscapes, these flames appeared …