WINTER BLUES

It's hard to explain, to you faithful few followers of this blog, why I haven't posted to it in a month.  I suppose the reason is that I had nothing I wanted to tell anyone about.  How can I explain how I feel, after all the elation and hopeful anticipation of a month ago, about the fact that not a single painting has been sold from the Catterline exhibition?  It's difficult to satisfactorily explain, even to myself, how, after eighteen months of producing my best work, and about £2000 of expenditure, my paintings have attracted not a single buyer at a venue where I sold nearly half of the artworks just four years ago.  I can't really explain it, but its's a fact I have to accept, get used to, live with and get over.


That fact, coupled with the seasonal lack of daylight hours to work with, means that my output is at almost as low a level as my general morale, and it's difficult to write creatively in my current situation too.  On several occasions during the past four weeks, I have sat down with a blank sheet of paper in front of me, waiting in vain for the clouds to lift and reveal the welcome apparition of some kindly muse to inspire a decent piece of prose.  The page remained obstinately blank.


A wintry gloom has thus descended over the Tait Gallery, and I've been doing my best to fight it.  I have a full order book, and the first of these commissions, of the motor boat Njördr, is shown above.  The second, of a steam drifter leaving Fraserburgh harbour, is nearing completion, and there are two or three more in the pipeline.  I just wish there were more hours of daylight to help speed up the process, but that, along with the weather, which has been quite fierce at times lately, is something else I just have to live with.


Domestic duties have been major consumers of time, of course, and my mother is giving me the usual anxious moments.  At 95, she's getting a bit worn out, and won't be able to stay on her own much longer.  Strange how we've never really thought of her as old until this last year or so!  Her home, at Whiteness, has withstood all of the winter storms so far, although the front gate has suffered quite a bit of damage, and I found the glass pane from one of the lean-to greenhouse skylights lying, apparently intact, on the floor.  This has happened very recently, and the resultant hole has been boarded up to await a more permanent repair in the new year.  Bits of the ornamental garden blockwork, carried out over many creative hours by my late father in the 1970s and 1980s, have been falling off, and I found what would have made a substantial potful of rabbit stew (had I been as good a shot with a two-two as my late brother-in-law Rob) playing chase-me-catch-me around the borders, which have been woefully neglected over the past few years anyway.  As soon as I appeared in the garden, the bunnies bolted over or through the ramshackle drystone dykes and under gates, only to return, no doubt, within an hour of my departure.  I found myself missing my beloved old grey cat - no rabbit dared come near the garden when she was around!


I held the last of my four pre-Christmas Saturday stalls at the Toll Clock centre yesterday, and I sold a few items as usual, although my takings were down on the previous three Saturdays.  The fact that there's always been a few quid heading bankwards over the last month has taken the sting out of the complete financial failure of the Catterline exhibition so far.


It's back to the easel tomorrow for me, hopefully to complete the Fraserburgh painting by Friday, when I head for Whiteness to do my duty as kitchen flunkie for the Christmas dinner at mother's.  My sister has promised me some sticky toffee pudding for afters - now that'll be worth doing a bit of hard labour for!  Have a happy and peacerful Christmas!

CATTERLINE HANGING PARTY AND REUNION!

The last time I hung an exhibition in the Creel Inn at Catterline, it was in the new year of 2008.  I held out no high hopes for sales success, as this was the "graveyard shift", a term I use to describe that time of year when people's spare cash balance is at its lowest after the festive season.  Nevertheless the event sold well, and I was anxious to see how another show at the back end of a year would fare (although we are now in an economic recession).  In 2011 I received my opportunity to do just that, and this year's display was duly hung last Monday (7th November).  I await developments with eagerly bated breath.

One thing that was certainly different this year was the hanging party.  In 2008 this consisted of my nephew Kenneth Halcrow and myself, and I am glad that he was there again this year to lend his considerable skills and enthusiasm to the process.  But this time, some of my childhood friends had decided to make a reunion of it too!

Back in the 1960s, I stayed in the Shetland community of Sandwick, and I travelled daily to and from the Anderson Educational Institute (now the Anderson High) in Lerwick, on the school bus, accompanied by Colin Stove, Robin Barclay and Kenny Bull, who all lived in the same part of the same parish as I did.  Now renowned in their chosen professional fields of physics, haematology and architecture, all married with grown-up families and on the point of retirement, they had decided to combine a reunion with making up a hanging party for my exhibition at the Creel Inn.  I'm very glad they did.  Along with my sister, who had provided the transport for the artworks from Shetland, and her friend Joe Irvine, we all took up residence at the Ship Inn, Stonehaven, last Sunday afternoon.  The weather was unbelievably fine for early November, and there followed two evenings and an intervening day that I won't forget - ever.

The evenings were largely of reminiscence of the Shetland of half-a-century ago, over drinks and meals at the Ship Inn.  Just before 9 o'clock on Monday morning, I mustered the troops and off we set, in a little convoy of cars, to Catterline, to find that my nephew had arrived from Aberdeen before us.  Two of the paintings had been slightly damaged, one in transit and the other during the framing process, but hasty repairs were made to one and an arrangement made about repairs to the other (for which I will shoulder the repair and delivery costs, should anyone wish to buy it).  The hanging process was finished by midday, and we all gravitated down to the area around the tiny harbour to enjoy the sights and sounds of this spectacular scene on a beautiful day, before meeting up again at the Salutation Hotel at Inverbervie for some lunch.

In the afternoon, we went our separate ways.  Mary and Joe took the most energetic option of a walk from our Stonehaven hotel to Dunnottar Castle.  Robin Barclay and I took a trip down to Tod Head lighthouse in his 4x4 - I'd always fancied going there (what is it about lighthouses that seems to draw people towards them?).  My nephew Kenneth went back to Aberdeen, while Colin and Kenny had other work to attend to.  We all met up at the Ship Inn again in the evening for more laughter and libation, although this was no wild drinking party.  It was all a bit reminiscent of "Last of the Summer Wine" (who of us fits which of Roy Clarke's characters I'll leave to your speculation!).

The next morning, the weather had changed from brilliant sunshine to dull, damp and windy, which it remained for the rest of my mainland excursion.  My plans had had to be changed as, unbeknown to me, the Creel Inn is now closed to business on Mondays and Tuesdays during the winter, with effect from this year.  This meant that I could no longer meet anyone there on Tuesday, either press or public, and I suddenly found myself with nothing to do that day.  With the rest of the party having gone that morning after breakfast, either home or to attend to business elsewhere, Mary and I took a run over to Banchory, which has changed beyond recognition in the forty years or so since I was there last.  It is a massive private housing estate now, and the old town centre was unapproachable that day due to roadworks.   We found a big garden centre on the edge of town, and had a plate of cock-a-leekie soup and a roll in the cafeteria there, before heading back to drop me at Stonehaven, as Mary had to catch the boat back to Shetland that night.

So there I was, on my own, in a grey, damp and miserable-looking Stonehaven.  I popped over to the Marine Hotel to give them a couple of posters, and had a pint of amber nectar while I was there - it would have been frightfully bad manners to come out without buying anything!  My brother and nephew joined me for a couple of beers in the evening, back at the Ship Inn.  The fun and sunshine of the previous day were now mere memories, but who knows what significance I'll attach to them over the coming years?  I already know that days like Monday 7th November 2011 don't come by that often.  Treasure the memory, Jim!

On Wednesday, feeling slightly hung over, I checked out of the Ship Inn and took a taxi down to Catterline for the only "opening hours" of the exhibition which I will be able to be present for.  The weather was cloudy, chilly and windy, and only one family trurned up for lunch that day.  Then Joe Irvine, who had been visiting his son in Oban, picked me up from the Creel Inn and drove me up to Aberdeen, where the boat back to Lerwick and home awaited me.  My trip had ended in something of an anti-climax, but the exhibition has been left, like a stake-net, to attract (and hopefully entrap) buyers over the next two months.  I won't know the extent of the harvest until after Christmas.

In the meantime, I have a full order book to attend to.....

THE LION, THE SWAN AND THE GIFT OF YOUTH

The title of this post might sound a bit C S Lewis-ish, but it stems from a rough English translation of the names of the three ships featured in this week's featured painting.  This is the last of the new works I've managed to complete for this year's Catterline exhibition (I hope it's completed!).  I still have a bit to do on tarting up one of my old tall ship paintings, and I hope to get this done tomorrow.  If I don't manage it, this one will probably not be making the journey south, as I would like to get a new frame on it for the occasion, and it'll have to dry before going to the framer.

My able assistant-cum-driver and I will be hitting the high seas next Saturday evening, and I hope the seas are not high enough to cause similar problems to those encountered by the ferries earlier this past week.

The ships featured in the painting above are, on the left, the Dutch topsail schooner "Wylde Swan", the 3-masted Dutch topsail schooner "Gulden Leeuw" (Golden Lion) on the right, and, in between, the Polish full-rigger "Dar Mlodziezy" (Gift of Youth") receding into the gloom which attended the departure of these ships from Lerwick in late July.

Dutch ships dominated the 'A' class of vessels in this year's Tall Ships Race, and the "Wylde Swan" was  one of the most interesting of these.  She is owned by the same organisation which brought the brigantine "Swan van Makkum" to these islands for the 1999 event, and subsequently sold that vessel to Italian owners.  The "new" boat was actually built as a steamship in Germany in 1920, and she has also operated under the Norwegian flag, before being acquired by her present owners, who have converted her into the impressive two-masted topsail schooner which graced Lerwick harbour in July.

Equally interesting, and also originally a steamship, is the "Gulden Leeuw", which was built as the Danish oceanographic research ship "Dana" in 1937.  I remember admiring the sleek lines of this grey-painted ship when she called at Lerwick in this capacity during the 1960s.  However, I would never then have dreamt of seeing her return in 2011, rigged as a three-masted topsail schooner, with a fully-square-rigged foremast.

This will probably be my last post before my trip to the mainland.  My thanks must go to Cecil Hughson, who has been framing all the paintings, and to my sister Mary, who has the onerous duty of transporting them and me safely to the Creel Inn, Catterline, for next Monday's hanging.  Thanks to these old friends who have volunteered to help with the hanging of paintings and distribution of posters.  Finally, thanks to all those who have emailed me their good wishes - it is very much appreciated, I assure you.

Have a great fortnight!

FAIR STOOD THE WIND FOR......CATTERLINE?

The last two paintings for the Catterline exhibition are of sailing vessels, and this is the first of these.  It features three of the windjammers which took part in this year's Tall Ships Race.  From left to right, these are the Dutch brig "Morgenster", the barque "Europa" (also Netherlands-registered) and the Norwegian gaff-rigged ketch "Liv".  The painting, on canvas, measures 30" x 20" (as you see, I've never been decimalised!).

Now ALL I have to do is finish the final painting (a 24" x 24" canvas), get these two framed, do the packing of paintings, hanging materials and personal effects, and we're off!  According to the Met Office website, the long-term weather forecast is for unsettled conditions, with gales at times and near-normal temperatures, for early November.  The near-normal temperatures should mean reasonable road conditions for driving on the mainland, but the gales I'm not so keen on, as they can disrupt ferry journeys.  Let's hope that Guy Fawkes night falls on a "day atween wadders", as that's when we're booked to catch the blue canoe for the mainland!

People say I worry too much - maybe they're right!  Have a good week - whatever the weather.

THE "RANDOM HARVEST II"

I finished work on this painting last week.  It is of the Arbroath-registered seiner/trawler "Random Harvest II" rolling along in a freshening south-easterly as she approaches the lee of Lerwick harbour.  She was built by Gerrard Bros. of Arbroath in 1958, was 68 feet long and 50 tons gross and net.  She was owned by a partnership headed by skipper David Teviotdale of Arbroath.

I hope to complete two more paintings, both of tall ships, for the Catterline exhibition, which opens on 8th November at the Creel Inn.  I hope you like the poster at the top of this column.

CHOPPY SEAS

I know I promised to display this painting here three weeks ago, and this only serves to demonstrate the fragile nature of such undertakings.  My excuses seem feeble in the extreme now, as I reflect on what has happened over the period - family matters, a "chest cold" which has been doing the rounds of my native islands and made my life a misery for a fortnight, and, at the same time, trying to keep some kind of painting workrate going, as the Catterline exhibition is being hung five weeks tomorrow.  I still have so much to do in connection with this that it's scaring me practically witless.

I have seen the sample of the exhibition poster which Tay-CAD are producing for me, and it is excellent.  These will be going up in shops, hotels, pubs and eateries around the north-east of Scotland prior to the event.  My framer is busy with my paintings at the moment, fares and accommodation have been booked, and my first grant claim form has been submitted to the SIC's economic development unit for payment.  All extraneous factors seem to be going well, and only the artwork remains to be completed!

While I am struggling to get the last three new artworks finished (and alterations done to some older ones) in time for the Catterline display, the orders are building up too.  I have been promising these potential clients that I'll start work on their artworks before the end of October, and I hope that they keep faith with me meantime.  As someone pointed out to me recently, it's better than having an empty order book, and I suppose there are many artists who would dearly love to have my "problem"!

The painting which illustrates this post is of the Aberdeen trawler "Leswood" heading south-east from Lerwick in choppy weather conditions, with the Bressay lighthouse bearing silent witness to her departure.  I hope to have my portrayal of the Arbroath-registered seiner/trawler "Random Harvest II" ready to illustrate another blog posting this time next week, but, given the broken promises of my last post, I am reluctant to make such a rash definite undertaking!  The last two new works for the Catterline exhibition are of tall ship compositions, and I just hope to have them both ready for the event.  This is dependent on metaphorical fair winds between now and then.  May only gentle zephyrs fill your sails this week!

"GIRL PAT"

This is just to let you know that I am still in the land of the of the living and painting production.  Shown above is my version of the Fraserburgh dual purpose fishing vessel "Girl Pat", rigged for drift-net fishing, approaching Lerwick harbour, with the Bressay Lighthouse coming up to starboard.  This is sheer nostalgia for me, evoking a summer's morning in the 1950s and early 1960s, when scores of these vessels took part in the herring fishery.  Although I was never actually off at the drift-net fishing, I can remember the sights, sounds, and in particular the smell of a busy morning at Lerwick fishmarket, with boats tightly crammed into the pier, landing the silver darlings in baskets onto trucks and bogeys for the short journey to the fishmerchants and curers' stations.

I received good news on Friday, from the Economic Development Unit of Shetland Islands Council, that my exhibition grant application was successful.  This means that my wallet is now going to develop a serious leak, as I make the purchases which I have been putting off until I received the news about the grant.

I've almost finished a painting  of another fishing vessel from the same period as the "Girl Pat".  This is the Aberdeen trawler "Leswood", heading out of lerwick in less summery conditions.  More of that later in the week.  Have a nice one!