I often get asked (I’m sure most artists do) how long a painting takes. There’s no clear answer as sometimes they’re quick, sometimes I’m painting several at once so I keep coming back to something, sometimes paintings go through a progression and don’t end up where you thought they would. And then sometimes there are paintings that are just PIGS!
I have loved the whole process of the Cleveland Way exhibition. Obviously the trail and the drawing were an absolute joy. And then, once I began painting, I felt I was bounding along and working on several at once. When I was working like this it was usually images from the same day as I had a strong sense of the place and the light. I was ahead of schedule – there was going to be time for the map and the book! I realise that I have a terrible habit during any project: if a goal seems too achievable then I add extra unachievable goals. It’s like the end point scares me and I don’t want to get there yet.
All of a sudden I got to Whitby and I just STALLED.
I had planned three Whitby pieces. A little one of the beach huts as you enter Whitby from the North. A painting of the Whitby Lighthouse as you head out towards Robin Hoods Bay along the cliffs. And then a large one of all of the best bits of Whitby – like the Calderdale patchwork. I’d been doodling it in my sketchbook and it looked like this (left):
And then I re-jigged it (right) as I was concerned it looked too contrived with everything out of order. By the way, I enlarge my sketches on the printer and transfer them using graphite paper. That’s what’s happening on the second drawing here.
I’d got quite a long way into the details before I realised it didn’t feel right. The Royal Crescent was planned to curve around to the right in the bottom half. The coloured tiles at the bottom were going to be little beach huts.
I often think of a Beryl Cook quote that goes something like, “Once I’ve finished a painting I put it away until it learns to behave“. I put it away, but it would not behave. Next it went through a birds eye view phase with the Royal Crescent from above. I didn’t photograph this stage as I was getting thoroughly cross and a little panicky at this point. But here’s a little scribble of the gist:
And then there was this stage which definitely wasn’t right. I decided to hide it away and move on to Robin Hood’s Bay, but I couldn’t get the colours right there either. There was stuff going on at home too, and when I’m sad I loose my sense of colour.
Nancyann, my right hand woman in the Linden Mill studio, decided that we needed a trip to the coast. She dropped me in Robin Hoods Bay and I ran to Whitby. It was a day of bright sun and high contrasts. The greens were super greens and the sea was sparkly. Nancyann and I met up and ate fish and chips in the sunshine, watching very carefully for thieving gulls (they work in pairs).
When I got back to the studio it was like someone had turned the lights up and I decided the only thing to do was drastic re-designing! So I cut it up… The image on the left is paint on cellophane. I often do this with a risky manoeuvre! The foreground progressively gets more light and spring-like.
I’m happy with it now! I always liked the light on the sea, which is why I couldn’t abandon it.
Whitby Whale Bones – (started 12th February. Finished 12th April! 2026).
Inks, acrylics, gouache, gold leaf, gold thread, a scalpel, patience, a trip to the seaside and fish and chips on the pier.
This is one of 25 paintings heading to Chantry House Gallery for my exhibition ‘Painting the Cleveland Way’ which opens on Saturday May 2nd 2026 at 10am.
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