PAINTING THE EDGES
I was born close to the sea and for the last forty years or more I’ve lived and worked in the Northern Isles, Orkney and Shetland, where the sea is never far away. My current home and studio face the Atlantic on the westside of the Shetland mainland. I’ve always been inspired by the natural environment seeking to re-present it through my own eyes and usually in the medium of watercolour. In essence watercolour is a microcosm of a watery world, dripping, flowing, settling in pools and drying, leaving a desiccated stain. As it’s basically water coloured with pigment the action of watercolour is far closer to that of the subject it’s depicting than any other medium I know.
I’ve been using this medium for decades to recreate my own response to the natural world, though not in a totally representational way. I use a ‘natural’ colour palette and extract elements of the land- or seascape I consider the more important to build up an image suggesting but not copying. Watercolour also has its own in-built character which demands respect and which I defer to in the painting and drying process. The unpredictable elements of sea and sky and the effects of our changing climate are a constant theme in my paintings using the equally unpredictable medium of watercolour.
I walk the nearby cliffs and coastline almost daily in every kind of weather. For me the sea is irresistible. I see constant change, of light, of colour and most importantly for me, the change in the edges of things. Treeless Shetland provides clean landscape edges which undulate until they reach the sea and break up. There’s a constant flux at that point, edges that are never fixed. Inevitably with the sea it’s almost impossible to ignore that flat edge of the horizon. But get down low at the shore and that edge isn’t clean. The breaking waves create uneven layers of blue, green, grey and brown which then tear up into white surf.
Edges are, for me, the most important element. It’s the layering of watercolour washes that create multiple edges, suggestions of horizons, and other land- and seascape features. The weather and changing seasons impact on the sea so much more than on land. The old Shetlanders knew of this and created so many words to describe the annual changes of light and dark in the weather to indicate when it was safe or just too dangerous to go out on the sea. Their respect for this environment is humbling. It’s a respect we seem to have lost.
Increasingly the weather patterns are changing due to human activity, and these will impact on this environment and how I respond to the landscape. Windier and wetter weather in the North is increasingly likely as the warmer south westerly winds clash with more northerly weather fronts created by a melting Arctic. Perhaps more extreme weather events will be the result. This is both a physical challenge and painting opportunity!
For me there is also the sense of the Sublime, often impossible to put down in paint; standing on the edge facing a stunning sunset or an impending gale. High up on the cliffs there’s a giddying feeling of peril looking into the abyss. And down at sea level there have been moments when I’ve felt the huge oncoming waves could cover me, and the land behind, which can be both frightening and exhilarating. Of course, eventually, it will do just that. But I’ll be long gone.
Peter Davis. September 2023