Recent Autumn Sketches.
The presence of cadmium red in my recent work aligns closely with my practice of drawing inspiration from seasonal transitions. As a dedicated outdoor swimmer, I experience the nuanced changes in the landscape firsthand, from the shifts in temperature of lochs and seas to the evolving foliage surrounding them. Autumn, in particular, unveils a brief but dazzling display of warm, vibrant colours—an ephemeral phenomenon that stands apart from other times of the year.
Grey Loch surrounded by firey foliage taken just before my swim last weekend.
Reviewing my memories through Google Photos, which offers a nostalgic "Timehop" over the past decade, consistently reveals my recurring fascination with this intoxicating red hue. While my work generally gravitates towards a palette of greens, blues, and browns—echoing the natural tones of water—this red often appears fleetingly in sketches but seldom translates into finished pieces. As a friend recently observed on our drive home from a restorative swim, the fiery hues of autumn leaves seem to last for only a few weeks before giving way to winter’s protracted grey pall. This fleeting brilliance may explain why my attachment to cadmium red is so brief, fading as quickly as the season itself.
Quick Watercolour sketch in my sketchbook from 2022
Reflecting further on my relationship with this colour, it assumes a more symbolic role. I recall a self-portrait taken in late October 2018, holding my newborn while wearing a cadmium red jumper. Pale with exhaustion, I was navigating the depths of postpartum fatigue. The day prior, I had walked through the Botanic Gardens, where vivid Acer leaves lay scattered on damp, charcoal tarmac, their intensity momentarily reigniting a creative spark within me, even amidst hormonal turbulence and sleep deprivation. Wearing the red jumper the following day was a conscious effort to sustain that fleeting spark, though it could not entirely silence the cries or shift my perspective at the time. With hindsight, however, I recognise it as a quiet symbol of resilience and the ability to overcome.
Connie with her second child October 2018
My autumn swims evoke similar sensations. Immersing myself in lochs framed by heather-clad hills and rust-hued leaves, I am reminded of basic colour theory’s complementary relationship between blue and orange, creating an instant sense of joy and harmony. The connection extends to Goethe’s 1810 theory of colour, wherein the German poet-philosopher identified yellow and blue as primary opposites—light versus darkness—fostering both emotional and rational connections to these hues. My draw towards cadmium red is thus both visceral and intellectually grounded.
Section of a new painting, working title 'Fire on the Horizon' Nov 2024
This resonance was evident again this morning, as a red sun rose over Glasgow after weeks of persistent grey—a spark of brightness piercing through the gloom. Perhaps it is in moments of low spirits that one becomes acutely aware of fleeting joy and its previous absence.
Red Sun rises over Glasgow
Inspired by these reflections, I am eager to incorporate this vibrant red into my finished works. A dominant hue that evokes passion, warmth, love, and intensity, cadmium red serves to create balance within my paintings. As we move deeper into winter, my intention is to harness its power to kindle moments of brightness and joy.
コメント