contemporary art gallery Arundel West Sussex UK
tel: +44 1903 885323
Open Tues-Sat 11-4. Sun 12-4
Shelagh Wilson
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Chalk, flint, clay, shore -
artists working in Sussex
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The inspiration for these works started out on a very large piece of Fabriano paper - about 10 feet by 6 feet. Shelagh made marks, limiting herself to using beautifully sharpened pencils, really concentrating on the feel of the pencil on the paper and the nature of the marks she was making. It was a deliberately slow, thoughtful process. After several days the paper was covered and she then tore it carefully into pieces and collaged these on to a new, large piece of paper.
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Shelagh had no preconceived ideas when she started her mark making. it was only towards the end of covering the first piece of paper that she started to think about woodlands, wilderness, the awakening of primeval landscapes, and the seethe of life that exists in these places. As she collaged the torn pieces, images started to emerge and Shelagh followed the lines and shapes of the marks to lead her towards more recognisable images which were then layered with oil bars, very aged newspapers and bits of lichen. Using mark making, tearing, juxtaposing and layering, Shelagh's work has continued to develop.
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"What to put in the spaces between the trees and plants is a preoccupation as I reflect upon the moving air and what floats and drifts in it: particles of leaf and bark, teeny bits of feather, a fraction of a leaf skeleton, the tiniest shavings of stone, weeny shards of snail shell, snips of leaf veins, desiccated petals, empty seed husks light as a ladybird's wing - a flummery of teeny, weeny pieces floating, whirling, pirouetting, drifting ascending, sweep across warm air speckled with pinheads of pollen. A curdle of little histories, end notes of seasons, faded papery swansongs. Just as in the wilderness, ideas float and pirouette in my mind, tumbling, drifting, settling on the page."
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Two of Shelagh's works were selected for the National Open Art exhibition November 2016, in The Mercers' Hall in London.
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Wing beats soughing seed blessings Pencils, acrylics, oil bars
Optimism spooling against an immensity of sky Pencils, acrylics, oil bars
The soft hush of pollen sundering Pencils and acrylics
Unfurling wings on the threshold of dawn Pencils, acrylics, oil bars
Hatching Pencils and oil bars SOLD
Brooding on snowdrops under a blue moon Pencils and oil bars
The silent hum of Spring's wing-beats Pencils, acrylic, oil bars SOLD
Unfurling, winging, singing in the blossoming Pencils, oil bars
A merry welter of wafery shards, slivers and shavings Pencils, oil bars
Pulsing trajectories pop and fizz Pencils, oil bar
Winter collection
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Landscapes
"These little paintings emerged after drawing for 20 minutes a day to see what would emerge from my sub-conscious - an exercise encouraged by Andrzej Jackowski. He advocates this as a way to "access the unconscious" and "to tap into patterns of underlying thinking." He assured those of us in his class that images would be waiting - and he was right. After a few sessions I found myself using oil bars to juxtapose and layer colour, eventually recognizing that the colours I made were those of the landscapes where I had grown up in Northern Ireland - teals, mosses, burnt sepias, slates and heathery mauves.
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These initial sketchbook experiments grew to encompass memories of the farmhouse where I had lived. At first I didn't realise what the little white houses with few windows and sometimes no doors, which had crept into my work were, but they were compelling. I eventually realised that they were symbols of the house where I had spent my childhood and where my father had died after living there for fifty years.
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I am also inspired by the poetry of Seamus Heaney who lived locally and who recommended that you should "trust the feel of what rubbed treasure your hands have known" and that is what I have tried to do here. Thus these paintings are repositories for my emotional responses to the treasure I have gleaned from Irish landscapes."
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Reaching for a blue, ripening stillness Mixed media
Autumn earth sighs moist peaty breath Mixed media
Tarrying by the buttery gorse in the thickening dusk Mixed media
Listening to the whir of velvety wing-beats Mixed media
Filled with the seethe and sigh of shimmery, glassy light Mixed media
The small boat of late autumn golds Mixed media
The moon spills a snowdrop constellation Mixed media
Wending home through a sibilance of scribbled grass Mixed media