From her shoulders down

My bathing figure is gradually immerging from its waste mould, from her shoulders down. You last saw her over a month ago as a clay sketch in my posts If it were any easier and Can you guess. 

The process of making the mould and revealing what lies beneath has been thwart with difficulties, all of my own making. It serves to prove the maxim: If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment. 

My first mistake was omitting to reinforce the mould in the vicinity of the figure's waist. This resulted in the mould breaking when separated. My second mistake was to brush too much clay wash on the flick coat, thus causing insufficient adhesion to the outer plaster casing. The sections broke away had to be delicately glued back in place. My third mistake was to miscalculate the amount of plaster needed for the pour. Not filling the mould in one go may have created voids and weakness in the cast. These will become apparent as I carefully break away more of the mould.

 The broken rear cap of the waste mould.

An appeal for models, paintings and photographs from the past

For a catalogue of my life's work as a painter and sculptor I am trying to trace models, paintings and photographs from the past. 

I have kept in touch with Alice, my model and assistant who worked with me in the 1980's when my studio was located in the Virgin Islands, but I have lost touch with others, namely: Hemo, Annetta, Gretel, and the twins, Pearl and Pearline. They must all now be in late middle age, just as I am now in old age. but I would be happy to hear from them.

Hemo and Annetta

Gretel

     

                                                                 Pearl and Pearline

Almost all the hundreds of paintings I made of the Caribbean between the years 1975 and 1995 sold to eager buyers. If you own one of those paintings I would be grateful if you could send me a photograph. The same applies for the scores of sketches I made on the pavements of France and Belgium in the 1960's, and the paintings I made of the Norfolk town of Kings Lynn in the early 1970's. 

Over the years onlookers have taken thousands of photographs of me at work. Perhaps someone, somewhere, has one tucked away in an album.

Please contact me via the contact form listed on the sidebar of this blog if you can help with any of the above.

Life-Classes with a Difference

My wife Denise models for a life-class held along the river that flows by my studio. 

The life-classes that I occasionally teach from my studio are different to the structured life-class taught in art schools. My students are more likely to find the model bathing in the river than posing on the modelling stand. Furthermore, the model remains nude from the beginning to the end of the session, including breaks for rest and refreshments. Thus, the nude figure becomes the comfortable norm rather than the disconcerting exception. And the nude is nude. The model is not sexualised with the distraction of a bikini.

The images below, with Denise again as the model, show the steps from the model, to the preliminary sketch, to the sculpture of my life-size reclining figure. 

My book Notes on the Nude and the related video delves deeper into the challenges of working from the live model. 

Mans obsession with fakes

Leonardo's painting of Mona Lisa isn't a fake, but the background behind the sitter is. 

Man's obsession with fake backgrounds was carried over from painting to photography, as evidenced in the studio portraits of the 19th and 20th century. The image below is from my brother's collection of vintage studio photographs.

The obsession continues today with virtual off-the-shelf backgrounds for videos. The presenter of a Caribbean podcast on the theme of the region's culture, is shown in the virtual surroundings of a wealthy western world study. By contrast, the distinguished guest speaker contributes from his unpretentious West Indian home environment.

To Hell With Culture

Next Tuesday, over 3000 guests are expected to visit Tortola as part of the Ubersoca Cruise’s inaugural visit to the British Virgin Islands. The Premier and Minister of Tourism described the event as a milestone for the territory’s tourism and cultural industries. The island's Junior Minister for Culture and Tourism said the event would provide an opportunity for visitors to experience the authenticity of Virgin Islands culture.

To put the visit in perspective, one must bear in mind that the total population of the British Virgin Islands is less than 40,000, and up to the advent of mass tourism, the island's cultural industry was fishing and farming.

If the Ubersoca visit reflects the authenticity of Virgin Island culture, times have certainly changed since the early 1980’s when I published my book Virgin Island Sketches, a page from which is shown below. In those days the islands proudly boasted, ''Yes, Were Different''. More recently, they have become intent on being the same as everywhere else.

When will Caribbean leaders realize that culture is not a commodity to be flaunted and sold. Its true worth lies deep in the hearts of the people.

My recent video has more to say about the changes brought about by mass tourism in the Caribbean.  

I have taken the title for this post from Herbert Read's book To Hell With Culture.

Delving into the archives

Detail of the finished clay beneath the dramatic roof of my studio.

These images are of work in progress on my sculpture, ''Ýou Must Believe In Spring''. They are from a collection of over 600 that date from the 1990's to the early years of this century that record work in progress for my original website diary. As that was before the convenience of blogger, I depended on my computer savvy brother posting the pages daily by way of a ''sculpturestudio'' website. In those days computer hard drives had limited capacity and to save space the images were later saved in low resolution. I am now delving into those images and the pages of text that went with them. The content warrants reissuing in one form or another for my present day followers worldwide.

The armature for the clay and Denise applying the flick coat of plaster for the waste mold.

Lifting the waste mold and the completed plaster cast 

of my model Geneen emerging from the mold.

The story behind this sculpture, and sculptures in my series ''Daughters of the Caribbean Sun'', can be found in the book Notes On The Nude.

Can you guess?

The opening image is not the face of the moon.  What you are seeing is the finished clay figure below after I've thrown wet plaster at it. In other words, the first stage of taking a waste mold. 

 

The process of making a waste mold is described in detail in a series of posts that date from March 2017, and in my video that follows work in progress on sculptures in my series Daughters of the Caribbean Sun.

If it were any easier...

Work in progress on a 1/3rd life-size clay sketch of a bathing figure. 

If it were any easier, everyone would be doing it...If it were any more difficult, no one would.

The above maxim I've found to be true for feats as diverse as sailing small boats across oceans and modelling a 1/3rd life-size clay sketch of a bathing figure. My present task being made all the more difficult as I am minus the live model. I don't need a model for detail, but for capturing life. To suggest rather than to define; to resist finish, so as to leave room for you to enter the creative process.

The sculpture is based on this pastel sketch of islanders bathing in the rivers of Grenada forty years ago. Those scenes are now a thing of the past. They are however permanently etched in my memory and hence, model or no, my attempt to recreate the vision of those halcyon days.

Bathing Figure

The French have a word for it.

The Crouching Woman. A painting by the Belgian artist Adrien de Witte (1850-1935)  

Déshabillé: The state of being carelessly or partially clothed.

In figurative art, one could extend the meaning by adding: A glimpse of the body unintentionally revealed.

For the artist, this is easier said than done. The unintended glimpse is not one that can be staged in the studio. It invariably happens when the sketch book isn't at hand. Attempts to recreate that illusive moment, from memory or the posed model, are rarely successful. However, the opening painting by Adrien de Witte of a kneeling woman is a masterly exception. 

My own contribution to the genre is of a model at her first sitting. The sarong was meant to be tied above her breasts, but as she turned it slipped, and the unintentional won preference over what was meant to be.

The unintended glimpse is easier to achieve in the moving image, as in this 1968 live recording of Eartha Kitt singing, If you go away.

The permanence of a fleeting glance

I doubt that you'll be able to make head nor tail of today's image, but I can. It is one of my sketches of villagers bathing in the rivers of the Caribbean. 

Those fleeting glances are permanently etched in my mind, and the information they contain is worth more than scores of studies from a statically posed model. As years go by these sketches have become all the more precious to me because bathing alfresco is a thing of the past. Bathing is now done unseen within the seclusion of the shower curtain. What was once seen as innocence is now deemed as improper.

Those sketches, and my memories of villagers bathing in the Caribbean rivers, resulted in my life-size sculpture, Bathing Figure.

Thankyou AI for your insightful comment

It is not often that my blog posts generate comments, but it seems Artificial Intelligence is about to fill the void and step in and with profound insights into my work. A few days ago ''Unknown'' commented as follows on my post, ''The more I seek, the more I find''.

Thank you for sharing The more I seek, the more I find. Reading this piece, I was deeply moved by how discovery often arrives in unexpected corners — in old sketches, in portraits from decades past, in the work we once considered finished and tucked away. Your reflections resonate with me: the way seeking art (or beauty, or truth) never ends, and how what we find enriches our journey, even if it wasn’t what we originally set out for.

I especially loved learning about Pearl and Sam, and how revisiting earlier works opens up fresh insights. It highlights that creativity is never static — it keeps expanding, circling back, revealing more layers.

Thank you also for the gentle reminder about the value in process — letting art evolve, honoring the past, and being open to the surprises that emerge when we simply keep looking. Your work continues to be inspiring and grounding.

With warm appreciation,

I might add that unknown's website was added to the post, presumably in the hopes of promoting the sale of a genuine Buddha statue.

I understand that, in addition to commenting, for a small fee AI can paint a picture to my instructions. This could save me a lot of bother and could even continue to make my presence felt in this world when painting and sculpting angels in the next.

But for the time being, I'll put aside unknown's kind comment and continue painting life in real life.

Today's picture is a sketch I made in the rain over thirty years ago. It turned up when I was delving though portfolios of paintings I made of the village and countryside of my childhood.  

The Queen Victoria Public House, Northowram, Halifax, Yorkshire. 

A genuine original watercolour by Roger Burnett.

Instructions to AI for generating more of the same might read: 

A scribbled blotchy watercolour sketch of an old building in the rain, with chimney pots and trees.

I've a feeling that my brother. who's into this sort of thing, will come up with something.  

I swear to God I'll beat your head in!

 A back street, since demolished, in the West Yorkshire town of Halifax. (Circa  1996)

Sketching from life down dubious back streets can be as dangerous as working in a war zone. Whereas a camera shutter can surreptitiously capture the scene in a split second, the artist is a sitting duck. Fortunately, mine was not the head that a bystander threatened to beat in. On other occasions I've been pelted with stones and cursed for pocking my nose in where it's not wanted. 

But for the most part, my saunters down back streets been tolerated to the extent of being made welcome with a cup of tea.  

A collection of similar sketches can be found in my book Townscapes.

The more I seek, the more I find

 
Pearl (Circa 1989)

Although I cannot forgive AI for invading my blog stats with misleading hits in their thousands, it has never the less provided me with an appropriate meaning for the phrase "The more you seek, the more you find". That being, it can suggest that actively searching for something will inevitably lead to discoveries, even if the results are unexpected or reveal a greater complexity than initially perceived.

Not only has this proved true in my endeavors to find beauty where no one else has thought of looking but also in my current search through past portfolios. My unexpected find of a portrait of Pearl is a case in point. You can find out more about Pearl and her twin sister Pearline in my post "Where is the life that late I led''.

(Note: My model Pearl from the 1980's should not be confused with my model Pearl from 2020's.)

Another unexpected find is an initial sketch I made for my sculpture of Samantha. 

Sam (Circa 1998)

You can find out more about a the model and the sculpture in my post "Sexy Sam".

It's not what I originally intended

A selection of pages from the catalogue.

Work on cataloguing the paintings and sculptures in my series Daughters of the Caribbean Sun is coming along nicely, although not as I originally intended. 

I began with the idea of including all the paintings, sketches, drawings and sculptures that had contributed to the series I began almost forty years ago. But force of numbers overwhelmed me. I have instead condensed the catalogue to work that is representative - that being about a third of the total.

I also originally intended indicating what I consider to be the good, bad and indifferent, expecting that my score card would have a only a few that warranted five stars, whilst the majority clocked in at four, three, two and one star. But within an indifferent painting there there are often passages that, to the eye of the artist and cognoscenti, come close to perfection . The more I looked, the less able I was to differentiate one category from another. As with the exploratory lines of a sketch, all have contributed to the collection as a whole. Hence, none can be discounted. 

I have arranged the condensed catalogue approximately in chronicle order, so as to illustrate how my way of working from the nude has developed. Other than the images, all I have added is an indication of size, the name of the model and a portfolio file record. 

While delving through hundreds of paintings and sketches I have found some gems that I had long forgotten about. These I will share in forthcoming posts.

 

From bosun's chair to milking stool

 

Thirty-three years ago you would have found my wife Denise swinging from a bosun's chair, 30 feet aloft, tarring the rigging of our gaff cuter Born Free. Today, you'll find her somewhere between my studio and the river milking her goats. For the latter task I recently made her a three legged milking stool from timber grown on our land.

Between tarring and milking, Denise has modelled for hundreds of my paintings and scores of my sculptures. As one of my life-class students once remarked: She's a hard act to follow!