Two artists and the moon

Some of the paintings I'm doing at the moment are of moonlight and clouds, and as I was looking over the web I found these magnificent images by two great artists. The top one is by the Russian born Armenian artist Ivan Aivazovsky and the other is by Johan Christian Dahl. Dahl was a friend of Caspar David Friedrich and spent some time living in Friedrich's house. They have a similar sensibility and Dahl was one of the few people whose company Friedrich enjoyed.

These works demonstrate a sense of truth that transcends mere skill and the light and space within these works are astounding. 

Many examples of Aivazovsky's works can be seen here in Gallery. 

If you google Images for Rohan Dahl Paintings, a gallery of his work will be presented to you.

View of Constantinople by Moonlight, oil on canvas

View of Dresden by Moonlight,1839, oil on canvas, 130 x 78 cm

The church in the centre of the Dahl painting of Dresden is the Frauenkirche. A good friend of mine, Leigh Hobbs, sent me these photos of the church which shows its dramatic history. We see it before WW11, when it was bombed during the War, and after its restoration as it stands today. 

White, Light

Christening Dress #2, 2015, oil on canvas, 102 x 66 cm

I've always loved painting white objects and sometimes I even paint them white if they are a different colour. For me, white is more than the eye can see, it's like a physical reflection of the soul of things. 

When I look at a Christening dress, it's not the religious connection that comes to mind. It suggests  new life, a beginning, and poses the question - what life did that person eventually live?

Still-life has many associations - emotional, symbolic and metaphoric for example -  which shifts the objects portrayed into a realm that is more than physical representation.

Poetry, Painting and the prose of Sue Verney

A Poem inspired by The Waterwheel, a painting by Eric Ravilious
written by Around Dulwich

In July, Michael Baron, a friend of the Dulwich Picture Gallery, arranged for his fellow members of the advanced poetry class at Morely College, with their tutor, Sarah Wardle, to visit the Eric Ravilious exhibition. For some people, particularly those based in North London, this was a their first visit to the gallery - but it is unlikely to be their last.

Ravilious had a close connecting to Morley College as he and his friend Edward Bawden painted murals for the College which sadly were destroyed when the building was bombed in WW2. The exhibition delighted the Morley group and several people wrote poems inspired by their favourite pictures, of which the Waterwheel poem reproduced here is one.

Ravilious's slightly surreal period style perhaps lends itself to this kind of speculation, lin
king as it does distinctive representation with an aura of gentle mysticism. We acknowledge the support of the Raviolis Estate, the Breakneck Museum and Art Gallery (Powys); and the Dulwich Picture Gallery for this marvellous, eye-opening exhibition.

The Waterwheel, 1938, watercolour on paper, 41.5 x 50 cm

Image, courtesy of the Breakneck Gallery and Art Museum

by Sue Verney

A partnership of geology and man

defines the landscape here, downland

hills of smooth serge green, lit by

cloud filled winter sunlight above

the wide valley, with its fast moving

stream circling in an oxbow

with a tributary and narrow dam

feeding the flow to the waterwheel,

a local artisan machine powering

the belt of a knife grinder's stone,

to sharpen tools for carpenter or farm.

A gaggle of geese paddling nearby

are not yet aware of their destiny.

Graphic lines, ancient or man made,

define shapes which appear sealed

in time and space, partly abstracted

implying a life beyond themselves.

Curves suggest melodic expansion,

lyric completion, a cradle of comfort,

or eternal circles like sun or moon,

whereas straight lines point like

swords, or meet with abrupt angles

like the thin skeletal winter trees,

or wooden frame of the waterwheel.

But what delight in texture here - 

Ravilious's wood carving skill

infusing surfaces, shaping

the slightly comic ladle-like

curves and propeller design

of the waterwheel paddles;

and his lithographers latticing

highlights stones, a pathway

furrows on the sage green island,

or ripples on the stream flowing

around it. Above the ground bass

and tenor layers, watercolours

resonate softly and clearly like

English folk songs, with reticent

intensity and optimistic calm,

quietly defying the fascist threat

of the period with an almost

transcendent trust in natural

beauty, national ingenuity,

and the history and mystery

of harmonious design.