Being an independent artist can be difficult but I'm going to tell you why you…
I wanted to paint a picture of how art could be interpreted. Some look and admire whilst some delve in deeper. I am that person and with that, I want to figure out a story out of three painting pieces by three different artists from Studio 73.
Kimbal Bumstead’s ‘Camberwell Unmapping Fragment CA12’
I see colour and the colours are inviting. The gloss and varnished finishes are inviting too. I’m mesmerised by the simplicity and yet the piece is so bold. It reminds me of sand. Sand from around the world. Sand from the dryest desert or sand from the red sea. The sun is illuminating as it captures light across all of its peculiar angles. The blue comes across like a dagger of the ocean just manoeuvring its way into the piece.
I imagine a lot of light and exposure with hints of nature dispersed around me. A natural environment like the beach or on the small shores of the Thames. It explains so much yet so little. Perhaps it’s a walk in the city with the night lights and the buzzing stars whilst you sip some coffee from a long day. You sit on a bench in an empty park, awaiting for oncomers to share the sunlight. Sometimes it rains but people still share the sentimental memory of what it felt like on their skin.
It’s different. It’s shaped differently and the colours entwine together in a unique way. A juxtaposition of colour and shape as well as texture. How all things in life create an immersive experience. The brightness and beauty merging into one piece. It’s a story of its own kind. Perhaps many stories all at once. A book full of short stories that all seem to make sense and all seem to relate to each other.
Jackie Clark’s ‘Train Window. Vauxhall, London. 28/3/20’
Living in London comes with many stories of its own. You learn about its history as you pass signs that describe what happened to that church in the 1800s and you learn about some locals that you stumble across in a queue for your daily cappuccino. A wintry morning begins and you’re on a train to Kingston upon Thames from Waterloo. There’s a sense of tranquillity as you look forward to the calm river’s noise and a familiar bustle that the city provides.
Hazey and eery, the clouds lay low and everyone’s coats try to keep them warm. Sat on a seat by yourself, you look out and there are some buildings, established bars and a view of central’s brightness. Vauxhall shows its colours. The beige, the light and the grey. Even though the cold puts some off, you find yourself at peace and paint a picture in your mind.
As you leave the platform to continue the journey, the rails become blurry as the yellow sets off. Apartment buildings with people on their balconies blur out too and the river sets off into the distance. An oil painting with intricate detail holds a story we all could read and listen to. It’s immersive and nonetheless, simple.
Priscilla Watkin’s ‘Mojo’
Holiday, at last. Sand between my toes. Each granule is being felt. The busy streets and busy hours have finally come to this. Peace. I dive right in as the water, submerging and becoming water myself. It’s freeing and important. I wanted a sense of escape from all things busy at least just for a little while.
I bathe in the dark blue then into the light. The sun reflects off the water as I scurry off into the deep end. It’s warmer and the sun circulates around my skin. Breathe in, breathe out. The ocean is truly a painting. The reefs are rough and colourful, the sand wishes and washes around and fishes play in between the motions. I feel alive.
Pleasant swimming leads to relaxation in the pool where although other beings share the space, the freedom is still there, announcing itself. The light reflects off the water as it patiently moves between the surfaces. It’s detailed and fascinating. It really is a painting and the darkness and light create an infinitely blue piece. Happy all at once and happy when I leave. I will return again and again and will never stop returning.