This is the first of my three contributions to the annual Open Eye Gallery Christmas Small Scale show – all pieces being 21x15cm. It's a composite of two locations, not very far apart, in the Pas de Calais. The sky and the central wood are from near Longuevillette, and the more distant features are from further up the road. The landscape is very typical of the area, but I wanted to fix it unmistakeably in France, so – short of erecting a flagpole and raising a tricolore – I plonked a yellow Citroën 2CV in the field.
Technique-wise – the sky involved much atmospheric stippling (with a thinned Stand Oil medium), and a lot of fine fading on-and-off with a small cloth-covered pad. The tiny car was, while not a nightmare, quite tricky to do - needing close work with a fine pointy brush and magnifying glass – but I think I've got away with it.
I'm absolutely not a car buff, the 2CV – or 'deux chevaux' – is instantly recognisable, even to me. It's a classic, akin to the Volkswagen beetle, and mass produced at about the same time. Like the VW Beetle, it was designed as an affordable popular car for the masses. However, as France is a largely rural country the 2CV was designed primarily for getting farmers and their produce reliably to markets along country roads and rough tracks. One design criterion was that drivers should be 'able to transport eggs across a freshly ploughed field without breakage'. The car was produced for over forty years from many different factories – including one in Slough, England. Indeed, the Royal Navy bought some for the Marine Commandos – the 2CV being light enough for helicopter transport and robust enough to cope with jungle tracks (I'm assuming during the 1950's Malayan Emergency). Which surprised me.
I had meant to draw a line under the Open Eye show quite firmly this month. That exhibition, with nineteen pieces in total, is done now (two of the small sky paintings sold. Which is nice, but could've been better) but such was the unusually low footfall that the gallery are giving the November painters (Tom Mabon, Paul Barnes, and myself) a combined extension in the back room for December. There will be fewer paintings each, but I'm certainly not complaining.
There was also an unexpected addition to the show in the form of a poem, written by Morna Burdon. She's an actor, writer, poet, and director, who is also one of our upstairs neighbours. I'd invited her along on the first Saturday, and she wrote this poem about the work and being in the gallery that afternoon. I thought it was marvellous. Here it is, titled and signed, and spaced as in the original -
The gallery thought it was wonderful, and had it printed out and put on the wall. The 'child's body' refers to the figure in 'Landscape with Shadows' (which was added to bulk the show out). She really gets what the paintings are about, and I think the poem greatly added to the room.
Which has taken us a long way away from a car in a misty field in Northern France.
