PAP

26/06 The Bath Prize has morphed into the Bristol Prize, but the premise is the same and the location I've been given to paint is ... Welsh Back. A tree-lined (in part) cobbled street with riverside restaurants and houseboats galore it's got a lot going for it so why am I painting this pug ugly office building? It's even got a big 'To Let' sign so there's not even a chance of selling it to an occupier. Why indeed, Mr Passerby? The answer lies over 30 years ago, before this building was here, when there was a construction that actually went with the surroundings, when it was Mail Marketing (Bristol) Ltd - a company owned and founded by my Gran and where, as a child, me and my family would drop in on occasion to visit said Gran, where I had my first holiday job stuffing envelopes, where I worked with my brother one summer staying in some flat in Clifton and drinking beer and Umbongo.

Both Gran and building are long gone now, but not forgotten and so here I stand painting this pug ugly office building. Is that okay? WELL, IS IT MR PASSERBY?!! IS THAT A SATISFACTORY ENOUGH EXPLANATION FOR YOU!!!

Huh, sorry, where was I, ah yes, the Bristol Prize and how this might not be my year ...

PAPping in Porthleven

 

 

The Bath Prize Plein Air Painting Prize - a week B&B for 2 in Porthleven with studio facilities: Fantastic!

 

The reality doesn't quite live up to expectation as Yolanda couldn't come and the weather for the week is looking pretty rubbish. That said, it's still a week in Cornwall with free lodging and let's quit with the whinging [steady, let's not totally break with tradition] and get on with it:

 

12/05/13 pt1 - I set the alarm for 5.30 planning an early start - what was I thinking? It's a god awful time and there isn't any sun so I go back to sleep. I do find myself standing painting by the harbour at 7.30 which is still pretty impressive. It's all a bit different - grey skies (well not that), bobbing boats and constantly moving water and .... dammit, I've misjudged the temperature. It's fine to start, but then the wind picks up and it's bitter. [Think about the cooked breakfast, think about the cooked breakfast.] I think about the cooked breakfast and I just about make it to the end. Throughout it all I'm worried it's going pear shaped, but in the end it doesn't turn out so bad.

 

I make it back for the well earned (!?) cooked breakfast (although it turns out you can have it any time before 2 in the afternoon, which is more accomodating that your usual b&b). Sausage (am I still allowed sausage?), bacon (I'm sure there was something about bacon), fried egg (let's not start on that) and toast - every day for a week? - what the hell. 

 

Gallery Artist Scoops Prize!

The Big One

The Big One

Space Invaders

Pap Pap

Richard

TBP days 4&5

Day 3 and I think it's coming together - I'm committed now to the Theatre being the only painted building and maybe it will work and maybe it won't. I repair the figures as best I can - damn, but it's hard to paint people walking around. I'm standing in front of a pub courtyard and every morning the landlord is there clearing up. He seems to know everyone that walks past, but today he's not so happy, cos a seagull has just shat all over him. There, but for the grace of God, goes my painting ...

Day 4 - the end - it was pretty well finished yesterday, but I've arranged to meet Rodney, the big issue seller, to take some photos for a portrait. Lots of positive comments about the painting, but I don't know whether they realise that this is it:

Rodney turns up and I take a few snaps - it's going to be an interesting portrait.

Back in the studio:

TBP Days 2 & 3

Progress is slow - dogged by delivery vans and slow moving cloud I soldier on. But how far? Should I paint the other buildings in?

I do the yellow lines and cock up a couple of figures, but is it enough?

Arty angst aside I become acquainted with Rodney Willis, Big Issue salesman extraordinaire (preferred pitch being the bench opposite the Pasty shop). He's got a big bushy beard and a grizzled face and he's amenable to sitting for a portrait - all promising for the pre{faces} project.

Also bump into the dad of the 13 year old genius painter I met down Great Pulteney Street. His sons career is going from strength to strength - just like mine! .... heh heh ...

3rd person - photographer guy who sells promo shots of Bath takes some snaps. Who knows, might be good - maybe lead to something, but hold on, shouldn't I have given him my card so I can get a mention. As it is I'm just some anonymous painter guy. Just the back of my head at that. Idiot.

Here we go again ...

I told you: big, bold and splashy and boo yah (again, that exclamation that I never really say) something or other ... [I've totally lost the track of where I was going with this line]. Big, oh yes, big - it's the biggest painting I've ever done plein air - 4 feet wide and it acts like a sail as I walk into town. This would probably be fine if the wind was with me, but it isn't, so it just annoys me.

It's early in the morning - ostensibly this is because the sun will cover the face of the theatre in a lovely warm glow, but it also suits the need to minimise my exposure to ridicule. I'm standing in front of the outside seating area of a pub and anytime after 11.00 I'm likely to have a crowd of drinkers behind me who may, or may not, appreciate what I'm trying to do.

That said, it's good to be back outside painting again and after the initial nerves when the painting is just a load of sploshes, as soon as I can see that it's going to look alright I start to enjoy myself. Just until my back starts aching from my funny angle - canvas must be at an angle as well as the drips have gone sideways ...

It's a start.

Back in the studio:

Return of The Bath Prize

For some reason the grey paint wasn't going on flat on this one, so I've resorted to putting a pattern on the background. Not sure it quite works, but it's done now.


On the plein air front, the Bath Prize has once again raised it's ugly head. After last years abysmal performance (although I still like the paintings I put in) I don't hold out much hope, but, hey ho, here we go ...

I get given (is that good English?!) the Theatre Royal/ Saw Close as a mandatory location to paint. It's somewhere I've never managed to capture satisfactorily before so I spend today trying out views/angles. Check out the following:


It's gonna be long and skinny and exciting with lots of brush strokes and stuff and boo ya! in ya face Bath Prize painter people!

I'll start painting next week (weather permitting!).

Cheese and Pickle

Thursday 01/10/09

Didn't get much sleep again. No weird dreams to report, must be work stuff nagging me or maybe I'm getting worked up about the bath prize. Mistake - got to be laid back about these things, we've been here before.

It's lunch time and I'm sitting in the common room at the studios eating my cheese and pickle sandwich. I look down at the dry brown bread in my hand with distaste and I suddenly realise that I'm bored of cheese and pickle. I force the last of it down regardless, before setting out to paint.

I walk up to the Royal Crescent. There are lots of exciting yellow lines to paint, but it's all too obvious and would say something that I don't intend. Further on and after a good deal of deliberation I set up outside the Marlborough Tavern to paint Julian Road. It's a perfect spot - lots of yellow line action and a big STOP in the foreground. At least it would have been the perfect spot if it wasn't for the wafting aromas - cooking followed by pooh followed by cooking followed by pooh. It's not good and the cheese and pickle is coming back to haunt me.

I balls up the yellow lines and writing in the foreground, but it's okay as I can sort them next time. I leave out the blue sky - ha - no blue for me in my gritty urban landscapes. Grey a plenty though in the vari-coloured roadsurface.

A young woman has a nosey at what I'm painting, she says something, but that's not the point. To speak she has to take out this dummy that she's sucking. I don't know and I don't ask and it doesn't help my nausea. I can't take it any more and I pack up.

Later and it dawns on me that it is the 1st October. Ten years to the day that I started painting. Ten years. That's a lot of paintings. That is also a lot of cheese and pickle sandwiches.

Friday 02/10/2009

The sun comes out briefly in the morning and I get a bit more of my yellow line painting done (still not finished).

I resort to finishing the Sydney Buildings painting in the studio - messing about with the road until I'm happy with it.

Despite myself I start to look forward to the announcement of the winner for the Bath Prize tonight. I must Be Cool. I must not Be Drunk.

Later and I'm shaking the mayor's hand as we pose for photographs, because cor blimey guv, I've only gone and won second prize, and he turns to me and says, "Why did you choose to paint Southgate?" .....

I gently point out that we didn't have a choice of location and that was the point of the competition. Reminder of what it looks like:

Later still and I've had a few too many to drink (but it's okay because it's after the event) and I remember that I haven't done my self portrait line drawing. I do it and it's a bit wobbly, but then again, so am I.

P.S. One more (and probably the last) Thailand painting:

Mental

Thursday 24/09/09

"That's mental!" exclaims a young man.

"F**k that, man!" exclaims another younger man. (Comma very important.) The other kids he is with laugh, so he swears loudly again.

Both meant in a good way. Or at least that's what I thought at the time. Reading it cold, though, gives me doubts.

Someone mentions that my picture is in the local paper, so later, I can't resist and I pick up a copy. It's an article about THE bath prize. It's good to be included in the pre show publicity (announcement of winner next week), but the write up doesn't give me hope. It's all about the wonderful sights of Bath and look some artist has painting Pulteney Bridge and another has painted the Abbey. Oh yes and another has done Lansdown Crescent and there's a view of the classic georgian terraces of Camden. And what's this one at the bottom - ah, yes, some eejit has painted some plastic barriers next to the southgate shopping centre - sure fire winner.

Friday 25/09/09

I've lost all control and given myself over totally to the yellow line thing.

Probably doesn't need me to say anything.

Probably best not to - only going to dig myself in deeper.

Apart from, 'it's not finished yet.'

But that just sounds like an excuse.

Ah well.

That old self doubt thing

Wednesday 01/07/09

Chucked out of the Threadneedle Prize and with paintings not selling on the gallery wall and whaddayano - whammo - Doubt creeps up on me and slaps me in the mush. Good old Doubt - you know you can count on him. Why did I even write that on the painting? What's with that rubbishy edge thing? That old Doubt - he know's all the right questions to stick the knife in.

So, on Sunday, it was the big reveal for THE BATH PRIZE (where the organisers tell you which bit of Bath you've got to paint for the competition). Now, bearing in mind the blurb ("designed to stimulate new work celebrating the glory of a World Heritage City") I'm expecting Pulteney Bridge maybe, or the Royal Crescent, or maybe just somewhere where a tourist would choose to go. HA! No, my designated painting assignment is ... wait for it ... Southgate Shopping Centre!?!?

What? But I thought ... but, ...

Still, I have to laugh - I don't mind the subject - it's an opportunity to get all WW, but all the same, it's a bit of a curve ball.

So, Southgate Shopping Centre and Doubt - a pretty heady cocktail. I spend the afternoon prepping the board, (so there's no painting to post) with the big D gnawing away at me.

In the evening it's the fabled Brain of Bath quiz and I'm on one of the teams. Get that. I don't answer many questions, but I do learn some stuff. Not least of all is the fact that the memory doesn't function better on beer and the last few rounds I'm a definite liability. I still can't believe I got Thin Lizzy and Led Zepplin muddled up. Damn - once that bugger Doubt starts messing with you.

Thursday 02/07/09

I wake up in a blinding light of revelation. I've sweated out the big D in a fever of humidity and tangled sheets and it all becomes so obvious. The Southgate Shopping Centre. The big unfinished building site at the bottom of town - it's perfect for the unfinished painting look. Finished on one side and getting lost in nothingness (or maybe a few pencil lines) on the left. Can you see it? Can you see what I did there?

Also - good things about the place I am painting:

1. Shadey (again);
2. Only one person asks me if I'm Peter Brown;
3. A little girl peers around the pillar I'm standing next to and asks me lots of painting questions: do you paint the buildings? do you paint everything? they can be tricksey can't they? I have to stop painting and lean down to talk to her, but she's sweet and I make the effort. Her mum comes out of the bus station and the girl says, 'look mummy a painter', but mummy's got other things on her mind and drags her away.
4. A guy comes up and says he is the project manager for the development and that they might be interested in the painting. He even gives me a card. The developers are called 'Multi'. I've painted a lot of pictures in Bath, but it takes a painting of Southgate Shopping Centre to get my best lead on a sale - go figure. Let's hope the Man from Multi, he say yeah.

Bad things:

1. Can't stand exactly where I want without constantly opening the automatic door to the bus station behind me;
2. It's a long way from the Studio so it's quite a hike to get here;
3. A group of builders start talking to me, just as I get some sweat in my eyes. With both my hands full I can't do anything about it. They're asking me questions and I'm trying to answer, but I can't really think about anything other than the fact that I look like I'm crying.

Friday 03/07/09

It's windy today, which makes me Mr Grumpy from Grumpleton. I don't seem to move the painting on very much which makes me even more sour. I don't make eye contact with anyone. I didn't get where I am today by making eye contact with anyone.