The Green Party is now a racist endeavour

 I am not a supporter of the Green Party - so why am I commenting on its policies?  Because I'm also not an anti-Semitic racist; and one has to stand by one's principles, in a world in which principles can be so readily discarded.

The Green Party's annual conference has been taken over by the anti-Semites who came into Labour, under Jeremy Corbyn's period - for the record, I don't think that Jeremy Corbyn himself is any kind of racist or anti-Semite.  But Labour was infiltrated in his time by pseudo-revolutionary sects of one kind or other, and like the Greens' leader today, he was too weak in yielding to them.  

There are almost as many evil, stupid, and deluded people on the political left as there are on the right: but the leftist element has a tendency to cloud its prejudices in the mists of virtue - claiming to be against racism, while expressing blatantly racist opinions.  Zac Polanski should have saved the energy he's expending  in the Holborn and St Pancras by election to shape his party so that it may become, in time, ready for government.  As it is, he is now handicapped by a policy resolution which is blatant in its racism.  He has to repudiate it.  

Zionism was the cause which led to the establishment of  a Jewish state in the area of the Middle East in which Judaism was already a prominent feature, and had firm historical roots.  We all surely know why Jews felt it necessary to return to their traditional home - they were being exterminated by design just about everywhere else.  Now the Green Party's official position is that they are to be driven out of that state as well.  That is just not a position which any British political party should be advocating.  I never thought  I'd see any mainstream British political party endorse crude - and ignorant - anti-Semitism. I have friends in the  Green Party - well: I had.  I'd hate to lose them - but this is a step way too far from any principle I hold dear. 

The Elgin Marbles

 The visit to this country - in fact a return to its place of construction - of the Bayeux Tapestry has somehow sparked a conversation about returning the Elgin Marbles, purchased from the Ottoman Empire in (I believe) 1816, by the Earl of Elgin.  That debate, if it can be called that, crops up every 5 years or so.  "I  want my marbles back," said the then  Greek Minister of Culture, Melina Mercouri, on a visit to  London.   The present Prime Minister wrote a piece years ago recommending their return; so did Boris Johnson, who later changed what passed for his mind.

And now, Sir Simon Jenkins, the Guardian's last remaining  centre-right columnist, has called for their return, in a Guardian article today.

Well we're all  entitled to an opinion (an arguable proposition, given the opinions some people have, but we'll let that stand): so  here's mine.  Were it not for Lord Elgin's purchase, it's perfectly possible, and likely, that the Marbles  would no longer exist.  The Turkish Ottomans didn't want them, appreciate them, or care for them.  Nonetheless, the Ottomans weren't Greek - modern Greece has long wanted to reunite the Marbles with the remains of the Parthenon, from which they were taken.    There's no  doubt that they would care for them at least as well as the British Museum, which presently houses them. 

I last saw the Marbles at least 60 years ago; my attachment to them is not, therefore, strong.  I'd return them - I see all the arguments against: they're safe where they are, probably more people see them than would if they were returned to Greece; once you start examing the provenance of articles held in museums, and not only in  Britain, you're on a vertiginously slippery slope.  All of that is true - at  least, the second part is arguable - there is a dedicated museum next to the Parthenon site which is visited by many people, and would probably attract many more if the marbles were present.  

But they really aren't ours - and they'd mean so much more in situ, and not only to the Greeks. Frankly, I doubt that many people in the UK would give a damn'; whereas, or so it seems, the Greeks really want them back.  So sending them where they'd be truly valued, not only by museum managers and historians, but by a large swathe of the population, just seems like the right thing to do; it might even  help Greece's fragile economy, without harming ours.  It would also bring an end to the endless round of speculation, campaigning, spilled ink - it would help our relationship with Greece (which, granted, is not a major partner of ours in economic terms) and, trumping all of that, it'd be the right thing to do.

So - let's do it?  

Landscape in one colour

 

That colour being Davy's Grey - you expect it to be like Payne's Grey, but it isn't: it is, as you see, a dullish green - but offers a wide range of tones, from dark to scarcely visible.  Looking at a painting by one Michael  Hanrahan, I saw this in his abstract shapes - sketched it, looked away, and when I looked back, I couldn't see it again.  But I got it, and it will serve as my study for a larger painting (this is around A5, in my L'oeil watercolour sketchbook).   The bird/flying saucer at top right is in fact just a mark on the scanner screen - but I thought I'd leave it.  A) laziness, B) it just seems to belong there. 

The destroyed portrait

 This is a portrait commissioned by  Andy Corley, which he asked me to do as quickly as I could.  In the circumstances, I chose acrylic, and from a combination of sketches and photographs - it was difficult for him to sit for me in person.

He was happy with it; and perhaps I learned why he'd wanted it quickly, because some time after it was completed, he was found dead in his flat.    He had wanted something to be remembered by.

A pity, then, that his landlord or family, I'm not sure which, threw it into a skip when the flat was cleared.  I know no more than that - it's just possible, though I think unlikely, that someone retrieved it.  But the fact is that it can no longer be found - so its destruction is the most likely outcome; something that meant a lot to Andy would, you'd have thought, mean something to those who were closest to him.  Maybe they weren't as close as he'd thought.

I'll do another version, out of respect for him.  By the way, I know it's not a Rembrandt: but it IS what he wanted.  That should have counted for something, shouldn't it? 

A couple of charcoal and Indian inky-bits

 

Liquid charcoal, plus added hard charcoal work.

A but if black and white from various dates: liquid charcoal, plus dry; pure charcoal, with notes for painting; and charcoal plus water plus Indian ink, applied with cocktail stick, wrong end of a match, and dip pen. 

Roy Hattersley

 Another good Yorkshireman gone.  I invited him to speak to the Annual  Dinner of the Isle of Wight Labour Party - when we still had these  things; wish we still had.  We'd endured difficult times, and I wanted the boost which he would give to us: and  he did.... I never  expected him  to accept our invitation, but - he and his then wife turned up and spoke to us, enabled by a bottle or two; it made a great deal of difference, as he must have known it would.  It put us back in  the centre of the Labour movement, where we'd always belonged; and our vote clambered upwards, through difficult but at least less impossible times: he knew that the future did not  lie with revolutionary slogans and impossible  demands.  God  knows we've slumped back again since  then: but we'd never have made the progress we did in subsequent years but for the support of Roy Hattersley and Sir Gerald Kaufman - who also went out of his way to re-establish our reputation as a non-revolutionary but still socialist party.  I  could only wish that our politicians these days had their intelligence, articulacy, realism - and approachability.  

The great David Hockney and Roy Hattersely were very different people; but both of them inspired me in their very different ways, and both are a great loss - the one to art, the other to our politics.   And Gawd bless  the both of them.

David Hockney

 I posted this on the  Guardian's  comment page, and shared it with Painters Online: it's  not that I think any words of mine deserve repetition, but it's as near as I can come to a memorial tribute to the greatest British artist of our time.

Well, I knew it had to happen - he fought back from a stroke a few years ago, but physically had been on a long decline; as an artist however, he could still surprise you (and how he revelled in it, quietly chuckling away as he took a long drag on a cigarette). What I valued about him was that he was never obedient - to rules of painting, societal expectations, received opinion; but he didn't break rules just for the sake of breaking them: he was never so predictable. Though he used modern methods and equipment, he still valued traditional techniques, as witness his comment that acrylic paint is often at its best when used for glazing, the application of transparent colours over opacity - an ancient technique, one facilitated by the fast-drying medium.

 I don't know that his views on the camera obscura really add up, particularly when applied to Vermeer - but his pursuit of that opinion indicated his endless curiosity; and his courage in expressing it. I'm not sure that the book on which he collaborated added much to art history, since by definition its claims could not be proved. The point is, though, that in the end it doesn't matter - artists use tools of all kinds, are fully entitled to, and always have - the point lies in what they do with them; and as he tried everything he could lay hands on, he would have scorned the idea that some expressed at the time that this would have been "cheating", or that it in any way detracted from the reputation of artists who may have benefited from extraneous aids.

A look back to my 75th Birthday

 We had a famiily get together to celebrate my sister-in-law's - shouldn't that be sister's-in-law? - 75th birthday, and mine, which followed it.  

I was presented with painted birthday cards from my great niece, and great nephew - as I'm old, I forget ages; but I think something along the lines of  13, and 9.  Probably completely wrong.  However, they're clearly bent on artistic careers; or at least I hope they are, at least in the sense that they derive as much pleasure and consolation from art as I have for the last 60-plus years.  

So here we are: great nephew's work on the left, great niece's on the right. 

The Guardian, and the Pope

 I am not a Roman Catholic; I'm not even a Christian.  I am a reader of the Guardian - and I felt that their total avoidance of covering the Pope's Easter Message was deplorable.

Leo took the USA's promotion of a war of terror on civilians to pieces - the Guardian perhaps expected that, and saw no news value in it.  Well, shame on  them, and on editor Kath Viner.  The Pope's address was significant, and should have been promoted and celebrated as such.  Instead, we get the usual Guardian sell-out to Hello magazine standards of trashy journalism.

I have - admittedly minimally - supported the Guardian financially for some years now: I have been published in the paper, by a previous editor; I comment regularly on those VERY few articles on which it permits comment - my faith in it was never total.  And now?    I don' t  feel I've anything left in common with it; I don't feel it and I belong in the same company.  My fault, or theirs?  I think it's theirs. 

 Niton under water - my landlady, a carer, cut off by floodwater and can't get home to tend to her dogs (they'll probably just go to sleep and wait; dogs are pragmatists).

Now, Reform - which incidentally my landlady sort of supports: she might be a touch more skeptical now - claims that global climate change is all a hoax.  It's "just weather".  Well, we have had extreme weather before, which perhaps was not linked to climate change (though who knows?), but these extreme events are very unusual in my 75-year long lifetime - and I think it's beyond time that we started worrying about it and taking it seriously.  Even if it were not real, in the sense of it being a new phenomenon, it's certainly causing huge problems worldwide - and frankly: of course it's real.  Surely we can all SEE that?  Wildfires in the south eastern hemisphere,  now creeping into  Europe, already devastating the USA; melting glaciers and ice-caps; flooding - is this all supposed to be benign coincidence?  

I'm not a Green: I'm not impressed by Zac Polanski; but I don't really want to see  my home slide over the cliff, either.  We need to demand concrete, determined, planned action from government in order to protect the very ground on which we so shakily stand.  

Facebook, Computers, and the Whole Damn' Thing!

 I'm out of Facebook after having to buy a new computer: I've spent a month without any computer at all: mine turned up its toes and sought absolution on Christmas Day.  

So - well, there we are.  I've got an Ipad now, which (when I've learned to use it) should help me post better pictures (can't vouch for the artistic quality), I'm frozen out of Facebook for trying to add a third account (contrary to their terms and conditions, which I'd forgotten) when I couldn't get  back into my old accounts.

So Woe, as in Woe, is me!   Oi weh, oi gevalt, dammit.....

I'll just have to feed this blog and seek alternative social media outlets, won't I?  Pay attention, since that's what I'll do - damn' ee, Mr Zuckerberg, and your impenetrable platform, more difficult to get back into than  my bank account, and I hope you suffer the tortures of the damned.

This blog might get a little less art-centred, as I seek an alternative outlet: hold out for it: can you bear the suspense? 

Camera and Computer Problems, but Posting Anyway

 I have two cameras - both elderly. An Olympia compact, and a Nikon Coolpix S220.  Both used to transfer photos to my PC; the latter claims to have done it - but I look (peer would be a better word: I don't see too well, and that doesn't help) and there's damn' all there without so much as knobs on.

So I'm doing my best, and generally losing most of the morning trying to do it.  The following paintings are all oils, two of them on ACF canvases (well worth your investigating ACF) and the long one on a conventional canvas (and it's a respray job: its first iteration didn't work at all, and was God's punishment for trying to work from someone else's photo.

Hoping these will actually work for me and appear here - here they are.  Why don't other people have my problems?  Ah - that'll be because other people invest in decent equipment..... a lesson for us all there, I think...

House on the  hill - ACF canvas and oak frame, oil.

Peering into the depths on the Cripple Path, Niton/Ventnor Undercliff.  Also an oil on ACF canvas. 

One I've shown before, revamped - on Canvas Store long canvas, oil.  

If anyone would like an occasional job, photographing paintings; and/or could help me to build a new website, both at modest cost: apply within.  

Rest in Peace, Andrew Corley

 

These were my preliminary drawings for Andy Corley's portrait.  I'm in two minds about showing the portrait itself - it was personal to him, and I can't ask for his permission to share it, because he died suddenly a few days ago: one of the established characters of Niton, Isle of Wight.  I first met him because we had a fixed Friday routine: every week, at the fish and chip van.  Andy's health  had been in steep decline for some months: every footstep was a struggle; my last words to him were "don't forget your stick next time!": he'd managed the walk from his house to the van, and I wish now I'd stayed to make sure he was able to get back again.  Although he was plainly ill, he was always in good spirits, and none of us expected his death so soon: I don't think he was even quite 65.  I am so glad that I was able to present him with his portrait, and gladder still that he was pleased with it - I don't know what his friends and relataives will think of it, but well: he and I knew what was wanted, and for better or for worse, what he wanted I was able to paint for him.  Andy, I'll miss your rotten jokes, which though rotten still managed to be funny; and your always asking after my health, when yours was so frail.  You were a kind man: there aren't so many of those about in the world that we could afford to lose you. 

I hope that portrait hasn't died with Andy - he wanted it and valued it: I  hope his surviving friends and relatives valued it as well.  Shortly before he died, he told me he'd had a nasty turn when walking into his sitting room and discovering the portrait staring back at him: so I like to think it worked; and - I will post it shortly after all - it's not great work, but it's what he wanted.  And that's the whole point of a portrait. 

Next stages, Work in Progress

 

Work in Progress, the Cripple Path, Niton Undercliff

We were a long way from being finished here, but it shows the build-up so far.  Painted in oil on an ACF Canvas - leaving aside the quality of the painting, the quality of the canvas is superb, and they're a pleasure to paint on.  

The next two stages will follow: just as soon as I can get a decent photograph - having camera trouble, or more probably camera operative trouble.  

Work in Progress

 

An oil in its earliest form, on ACF canvas - a new brand I'm trying out, and very pleased with it so far: it's tight as a drum on its stretchers, and made from a terylene cloth, which gives a smooth or at least not disruptive surface quite like high quality linen - which would be far more expensive; and painted with Michael Harding's Burnt Umber: some will warn you against Burnt Umber because of its tendency to sink - and indeed, it does, which is why I don't use it in upper layers (that and the fact that a mixed brown has more life in it; many ways to mix a deep brown: read my little e-book on the Amazon Kindle Store).  Oil Paint Basics, if you need the reminder: and I'm working on an update which I hope will be possible to make available in physical, paperback form.    

You might notice, in this early version of the painting, a resemblance in the cliff face to one Donald Trump: this is absolutely not intentional, and will be corrected in the final version.  It's very, very easy to paint a face in a rock formation or cloud without intending to: I've done it before: one of my clouds looked a lot like the Honey Monster... 

The trouble with showing a Work in Progress is - you've got to get it right; you can't just hide it away and pretend you'd never made a start on it.  So, with reckless courage - here is Stage 1.