Peter Brown NEAC

'Peter Brown NEAC: 'Painting the Thames'

for the Artist Magazine, December 2004 issue

It was at the end of March 2003 when James Kayll at W.H.Pattersons suggested to me the subject for my next show. I had just done my second exhibition of Oxford and Cambridge and I had my heart set on London for the next one. “What about ‘Along the Thames’” he said. I immediately loved the idea. I know I am not the first to have taken on this subject but like all ‘over done’ subjects, there is a reason they are so popular – because they are so good.
It is the variety that makes it so exciting from its rural beginnings its course through Oxford and the market towns below to our more industrial towns of Reading and Maidenhead onto Windsor and the suburbs of London and into the heart of the capital. At the time of writing the rest I have yet to discover (Greenwich to Gravesend).

After working on various commissions that I had been delaying until the end of the last show, it was not until 14th November 2003 that I started. I decided to keep a diary of sorts which I have to say in places is amusing but in the main is simply a list of mileages and explanations of how cold it is. Eight months, one abandoned house move a birth, a christening, a change of dealer and an extra 30,000 miles on the clock of my neglected Mondeo and I have 43 oil paintings. They map a journey of seasons, weather and a small evolution in my painting as opposed to a linear progression along the Thames path. I started at Lechlade and Buscot but soon leapt to Charing Cross for a couple of days before returning to Wallingford and Abingdon. Then I would try Richmond and back out to Windsor, then Hammersmith to Henley and so on. I could never work to a rigid pan. I work on site and in the weather I am given so where I work on a particular day is very much down to the previous day’s weather forecast. Most paintings take more than one sitting usually 5 so there is a lot of effort involved in returning to a spot when the light is right. I can remember one mad morning driving around a roundabout outside Abingdon because the light was not right ‘dilemma’-ing “should I drive to Hammersmith to work on the overcast one or should I stay here (the forecast was sunny spells)”. I bought a road atlas and a Double Decker from a garage and eventually decided that I should stay – I was painting by 9am at last. It brightened up and I made the right choice. I think.

I work mainly on small canvases in winter (10 x 20; 12 x 15) due to the cold and wind it is hard to stay relaxed and concentrate for more than two or three hours. “Battersea Bridge from Tremorne Gardens” was done between hail showers. The light was constantly changing. I decided to adopt a light that struck me and worked the sky and water at the same time. I altered these over time as I worked on the bridge and banks, running to the car for the hail storms. The weather was mad and so was the way I did the painting: Stop, start, no plan just trying to capture a moment or the feeling of this transcient weather. I just tried to concentrate look and be as objective and true as I could. Looking at it Five months later, I think it worked.

The light I really love is grey, either rain or fog or just overcast. Not just for painting, when I am in the park with the kids too. I hate being in the house with sun light pouring through the window. This may be something to do with a feeling of guilt I get that I should be out side capturing it in charcoal. I find it unsettling, distracting and confusing. It creates offensive contrasts that interrupts and fragments planes. Grey light gives uniformity and subtlety and allows objects their own order and space. Fog is the epitome of this. It does more than allows things to sit down and not jump up at you. It makes them sit down. I love the way it represses and simplifies form. Having said this to me it does not flatten things. It does the opposite. Its tangible atmosphere orders the space engulfing distance gradually. In the fog paintings I feel I control colour more while trying to be as true to the subject as possible where as in bright sunny paintings I am at the mercy of local colour. I think this is why artists paint so much contre-jour – the foggy silhouettes allowing you to look into them and discover colour by trial and error. By adding blue or orange to reach a tone and colour that seems right. I had started to gravitate towards these more workable lights (contre-jour) when I suddenly thought that perhaps I was doing it because it was easier. I always used to paint and draw with the sun behind me, the light doing all those things that I have just been whinging about. So I stayed at Windsor until the sun moved around and painted “Morning Windsor Castle” – “That’s more like it Browny” I said to myself on the drive home as I studied it in the rear view mirror on the passenger seat next to me.
As the year moved on and the seasons moved on I gravitated more to London. I had decided that the most important thing was to paint what inspired me the most and that I should not worry about doggedly tracking the course of the river. I was to control this show not the Thames. When I reached Albert Bridge then I was happy to indulge myself. I had been impressed by Hammersmith Bridge but this one blew me away. Though I am now the grand old age of 37 and I have plenty of friends and business in London, I actually do not know the city very well and am constantly being surprised by it. Albert Bridge is perfect. I loved dealing with the white. I remember sitting on an NEAC selection panel and one of the artists reeling when he saw a painting where white had been used direct from the tube. While I am not sure that there is anything inherently wrong with this, I have noticed myself considering white much more ever since. I have always mixed white finding the likes of Flake White too harsh on its own. The iron work on the bridge allowed me to really use white taking it from cream to cool blue and green. You have to get away from looking at things in terms of their literal explanations (clouds are white, the paint work is white etc..) and assess objects visually, ordering them in tone and colour. Albert Bridge hurls these differences at you. In this light the bridge stands out so brightly from the ‘white’ clouds behind that you would be a fool not to realise that they are closer to grey than white. The bright whites on the bridge in the painting include a fair amount of raw sienna. Painting something the size of “Spring Albert Bridge” was great. I had to go with the flow regarding the ever changing light. Looking at this painting now I see I have got the light fairly even across the canvas. That is to say it is fairly close to a moment in time with all the shadows pointing in a similar direction etc.. Very often I will tackle most paintings of this size by going along with the different light as the sun moves across the sky during the day. This to me is what makes plein air painting so unique. It is all about standing there and experiencing it over a period of time day after day. You become more involved with the landscape. You get to know the road sweepers, the café owners, the residents etc.. and you get to know your subject. In terms of getting the light right, I attempt to paint the same parts of a view at corresponding times to previous sittings. So generally a painting can represent say a three hour period of the day.

Moving towards the centre I loved painting the embankment near Lambeth and then Westminster. I moved away from the river when I reached Pimlico painting the wonderful Lupus Street and moving away again to paint Whitehall, lunching with my brother-in-law in the houses of parliament in all my painting attire (very exciting). When I made it to the Millenium Bridge I have to say I was a little disappointed to discover that while its position is superb offering fantastic views up steam and down on the bend, these views are obscured by the vast cabling supporting the structure along its sides. I managed one 10 x 20 looking towards Tower Bridge by tip toeing and crouching. It would seem this bridge is a piece of architecture rather obsessed with itself. Well that would be fair to say if it was not for the stunning view it offers towards Saint Paul’s. I found this so exciting. The spanking new Aluminium Bridge, reflecting sunlight like snow, looks almost as if it leads right up to the foot of the cathedral. I could not decide whether to paint this with the ramp going back down to the embankment or simply from the top so I did both. While at Hammersmith Bridge two policemen ran a computer check on me in case I was a bomber. Here I was interviewed by the BBC who were doing a vox pops on the Swiss Rey Tower. I do not think they managed to find one passer by who disapproved. I think we all thought we were being very alternative by saying ‘actually I rather like it’. There were a few problems painting on the Millenium Bridge. I was often engulfed by large school groups but it was the joggers that really did it. You are aware of a jogger from the second they land on the bridge to the second their last foot leaves when you can eventually try to apply that carefully mixed colour to the canvas in a degree more of certainty.
I am now at Tower Bridge (returning to Marlow Rowing Club every now and then) and am looking forward to discovering Greenwhich and on to the vast skies of Gravesend. That is what people have told me about Gravesend. ‘Vast skies’ to me means very boring landscape. We shall see.

Peter’s show consisting of 40 – 50 oil paintings will be held at Messums, 8 Cork Street, London, W1S 3LJ from 17th November to 4th December 2004. Telephone 020 7437 5545.
Catalogues available on request price £10 incl. p&p. The entire show can be seen at www.messums.com.
Peter is a member of the New English Art Club: www.neac.co.uk

Ilustrations:

“Battersea Bridge from Tremorne Gardens” 10 x 20 inches oil on canvas
“Morning Windsor Castle” 10 x 15 inches oil on canvas
“Spring, Albert Bridge” 24 x 36 inches oil on canvas
“St Paul’s From The Millenium Bridge” 20 x 25 inches oil on canvas
“Westminster Embankment” 20 x 40 inches oil on canvas
“Winter’s Day, Hammersmith Bridge” 12 x 15 inches oil on canvas
“Teddington Lock Footbridge” 20 x 16 inches oil on canvas
“Molesey Lock” 10 x 20 inches oil on canvas

preview the exhibition