Torre Abbey: The 6 ft Paintings. Pt. 2
Part 2: Bringing the Vision to Life
As the days have passed, I’ve found myself both invigorated and daunted by the task at hand. It wasn’t until this week—at the end of January, with the March 16th deadline looming—that I began to feel a cautious optimism about completing these works on time and allowing enough time for them to dry. While I can’t say I’m entirely satisfied with them yet, each painting has started to take shape.
The Second Painting: A View of Nature
The second painting, a view from one of the Abbey’s windows, feels more naturalistic and immersive. Here, I’m working to draw the viewer into the scene, using the interplay of light and shadow to guide their gaze. This piece has come together with less worry; there’s a freedom in capturing the verdant aspects of nature.
The First Painting: Complexity in the Dining Hall
In contrast, the first painting—set in the Abbey’s dining hall—has presented far more challenges. The scene is layered with intricate details: a richly patterned rug, small items strewn across tables, and gilded frames on the walls. Mirrors in the room reflect the space itself and the window featured in the second painting.
In my interpretation, the mirrors serve as portals, merging the present with an imagined future where unchecked nature begins to dominate. The composition needed a focal point beyond an empty chair, so I added a badger—a keystone species in thriving habitats. This addition underscores the jeopardy of nature’s unchecked effects on a building like Torre Abbey, while also celebrating the possibilities of symbiosis and the richness of conserved habitats when handled with care.
The Abbey’s restoration project inspired this concept. Standing amidst centuries of history, I’m acutely aware of how fragile and impermanent these spaces are without intervention. The mirrors in the dining hall became a metaphor for this fleetingness, reflecting not just the room’s opulence but also the inevitability of nature reclaiming the space if left untended.
Finding My Rhythm
Unlike open air painting, where the subject is directly in front of me and I can lose myself in observation, these pieces require me to construct a world in my mind. For instance, the water flowing into the room and meeting the rug is an imaginative reinterpretation, with organic motifs beginning to dissolve into the water. I’ve spent many hours wrestling with how to balance the clarity of the rug’s design with the free-flowing natural elements, aiming to convey the tension between order and decay.
The process of working on such a large scale continues to challenge my habits. Being outdoors in front of a subject is energizing, and time seems to pass effortlessly. In the studio, standing at the canvas surrounded by my studies and references, I’ve had to focus and push through my sometimes sporadic discipline - or lack thereof. I’ve also had to ensure that no area is completed too far ahead of another, maintaining a balance across the canvas. There’s a constant push and pull as I step back to assess the work, striving to preserve the coherence of the overall composition.
I’m starting to look forward to how these paintings will look at the Abbey. The void where they’ll hang, alongside the ancient wall, creates an unusual correspondence with the scenes they depict, which are based just a few paces away. As far as I know, nothing quite like this has been done here before.
Lessons Learned So Far
This residency has been a test of patience, problem-solving, and my ability to see something through on this scale. The planning and studies can sometimes sap enthusiasm before a painting is finished. To counter this, I’ve deliberately left some ideas unresolved, to be worked out as the painting progresses. This approach is risky but keeps the process engaging and allows the paintings to evolve organically.
While I’ve struggled with the complexity of the dining hall scene, it has also stretched my abilities. I’m beginning to appreciate the process for what it is. Producing work over such a long period demands discipline. While having a deadline isn’t ideal—because the work could go through many more stages before being truly complete—it removes the temptation to endlessly revise. It will be interesting to see how this work shapes my future projects; the process always leaves room for improvement and exploration.
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