Q1. What first inspired your practice?

Like most artists, I started painting when I was very young. I did my art foundation at University of Ulster
and completed my studies at Glasgow School of Art. During my first year at University of Ulster in
Belfast, I spent a lot of time drawing still life subjects and frequented the Botanic Gardens to study
flowers and plants. I’ve always been compelled to natural organic forms. In my penultimate year at
Glasgow School of Art I became interested in observational painting and returned to Ireland often. It
was the only place that made me feel creative.

Q2. What has been your background / training and how influential has that subsequently been?

I grew up in a family of artists which has been both a good and bad thing. They have inevitably
influenced me and the amount of importance I place on painting. In my early twenties I began painting
outside with my father. He has never lost enthusiasm to paint and this was quite infectious to be around
growing up. My mother was equally determined in her field of interest and her work ethic rarely
dwindles. Both were and still are serious painters. Painting has always been an essential part of our daily
lives.
In Glasgow, my tutors and contemporaries at GSA were very influential. Contemporary art schools are
often criticised for not offering enough classes, teaching or guidance. I don’t see this as wholly true or a
particularly negative aspect of university. It pushes students to become strong-willed and self-reliant
which is more beneficial in the long run.
Most well directed artists choose their influences carefully. Mine are chosen based on my level of skill,
interest and ability at that time. Creatives can learn a lot from each other, generate ideas, positivity and
energy which prevents stagnancy and repetition in the studio. At this point in my career, I work best
with limited influences and in places where I am undisturbed. Too much stimulation can cloud the mind.
In the past it has misled me from my original intent. Working remotely is the best way I can make
paintings that make sense to me and ultimately work that I want to continue.

Q3. Tell me more about your subject matter and the inspiration for your work?

There are many subjects I would like to paint. It is hard to walk outside here and not develop ideas for
paintings. My ambition to start a piece could be prompted by something as simple as witnessing a
muted blue on a gloomy overcast day or watching golden evening light triumph across otherwise
ordinary fields around me. Every day is different and colour activity vibrantly changes throughout the
seasons. These cycles bring me hope. They reassure me that there will always be inspiration for new
paintings. I feel as though there is a lot ahead of me to learn about oil painting, place and how to
connect the two.
At the moment I only have the technical ability to interpret certain landscapes. There are countless skies
that inspire me but cannot capture. A cirrus sky is perhaps the most beautiful sky of all but impossible to
paint. All subjects and times of day require alternate techniques and methods. Every painter has a
different approach. Perhaps the longer one paints, the more one relies on learnt and developed
formulae practiced over time. I don’t know whether this is a good or bad thing.
18th Century painter Pierre-Henri de Valiennes believed that no artist should spend longer than two
hours on an oil sketch; his argument being that sunsets and sunrises only lasted half an hour. His
paintings possess a clarity comparable to works of Camille Corot. The same demand for freshness is
evident in the work of John Constable. Although Constable experienced periods of self-doubt and at
times lacked objectivity, he never lost desire to learn about nature and transcribe it faithfully in
graphite, charcoal, watercolour and oil paint.
Regarding subject matter for painting; I will always desire to paint places that have stayed in my
memory over time. The longer I live in the countryside, organic forms, atmospheric and elemental
phenomenon become more familiar to me. They grow on my psyche and lend me a spirit, strength and
voice in painting.

Q4. Do you usually work en plein air? Does your work continue in the studio?

No. When I started painting, I believed that the best paintings were painted from life and that focusing
on this would somehow make my work more authentic. On reflection, maybe this was an old-fashioned
and narrow-minded view. It was keeping me from making progress technically. I now accept that in
order to develop skill and knowledge about my medium and subject, I require further support material
such as drawings, notes and photography. I tell myself daily that this is a way forward and by no means a
weakness nor a shortcut. . The studio is an important place of study and revival of empirical data I have
gathered on walks or trips to chosen landscape areas. It is a space to meditate on the memories and
ideas I have formed outdoors. I believe I will return to painting en plein air again as it is a great challenge
and way to learn.

Q5. The quality of gestural mark-making is evident in your practice. Tell me more about the significance
of mark-making processes for you?

Mark making is a form of communication. Just as poets say that poems often start with a few words, a
painting starts with a few marks which the painter chooses to assort in a particular way. After visiting a
new place and creating drawings, I sometimes do not attempt to paint it for months or maybe years. I
enjoy having this control over my subject matter; it reassures me that I am following my own
independent path.
Gestural mark-making is necessary when painting landscapes. Perception of the physical world depends
on light. Mark-making is a means of differentiating between light and form. I have always enjoyed using
different tools and familiarising myself with these so that I can express them clearly. Working on a
slightly larger scale has helped my confidence and ability to recognise ‘successful accidents’ that capture
light in an unconventional or spontaneous way.
Regarding gesture: the more gesture involved, the more meaningful and personal the mark becomes.
Intuitive painting requires daily practice, revision, trial and error. It is difficult to put painting into words,
just as it is difficult to describe why music can evoke certain feelings and memories in us. Both art forms
can make sense of experiences in a beautiful cathartic way. For this reason, I find periods spent away
from the studio bewildering and prefer to stay close to my work.

Q6. Who or what has been your greatest influence as an artist? Which artists most inspire you?

It has changed appropriately over time, often based on my surroundings and health. Initially I was inspired by Joan Eardley for reasons I could not understand at the time. I first saw her work in Edinburgh
before I started oil painting and it made a huge impression on me. She wonderfully captures the aweinspiring feeling of being on the shore and beside crashing waves. As a person she was passionate and
strong-minded. Eardley made life style choices in order to be a better painter. In her thirties she moved
to the coast of Catterline. There she made work free from artistic fads or trends of the central London
belt and developed her own practice. Her paintings were successful in their own right and timeless works of art.
John Constable is equally inspirational for countless reasons. I admire the loyalty he had to his birthplace
and unyielding adoration for English countryside. He was one of the first landscape artists to follow his own vision, reject the academic norms and stop painting generalised depictions of nature. At a time
when landscapes were made to please and conform to preconceived notions of pictorial landscape
painting, he painted black trees, incorporated shadows, melancholy and mood into his oil sketches.
Constable was self-directed and inquisitive which allowed him to experiment and excel. What began as a
humble pursuit led him to commit to large, ambitious compositions done from memory in his studio at the later part of his career. Just as John Constable challenged landscape oil painting, I feel Norman Ackroyd has does the same in etching. His depiction of luminous light and its relationship with land and water is mesmerising. On all
kinds of scales, he powerfully captures rays that seem to come straight from the earth. Silvery, magic moonlight is portrayed in an exquisite and effortless way. His etchings tastefully nod to great celebrated
Romantic paintings and prints of the past. I adore the abstract quality and selective realism of his work.
It reminds us that art can be true to life, portray real sensations and things, but it does not have to depict everything. Ackroyd leaves out irrelevant details and retains the mystery and allure of landscape.

Q7. What is the most challenging element of your practice?

Initially I found it difficult to find a suitable, affordable studio in Glasgow. Many young artists face the
same problem after graduating from art school. I was fortunate that I had exhibitions to work towards in the year after graduation. The Fleming-Wyfold art foundation and Royal Scottish Academy gave me a lot of support and reasons to keep working. This gave me more self-belief and subsequently I allocated a lot of time to developing a studio practice. The most challenging element of my practice now is the physical demand of daily painting. It takes a toll on my body and I find that difficult to accept. Living rurally has helped me overcome this. I have learnt that maintaining a balance is key to consistency. During times of poor physical health, I benefit from reading and drawing. This distance away from the studio can be useful as I often return with ideas anew,
restored incentive and appreciation for paint.

Q8. How do the processes of drawing, print-making and painting relate to each other in your work?

On sunny days, which are rare here, I wake with too much energy and I sometimes go outside and draw
trees. I don’t know if this has served as useful for my painting but believe it improves my memory of the
outdoors just as walking does. It helps me think about different ways I could recreate certain color
relations in paint.
One of my biggest regrets was only taking up etching in my final year. The technician was excellent and I
could have learnt a lot more had I taken up the medium sooner. He was able to make sense of my
drawings and helped me hone my ideas. This is very useful at art school where students have a tendency
to overcomplicate what they doing and become disillusioned and directionless. During this time, I began
to look at artists that resonated with me. Amongst these were Pietro Annigoni, John Constable,
Rembrandt and Norman Ackroyd. I was astounded by their innovative treatment of landscape and
ability to transcribe nature so simply yet powerfully.

Q9. What for you are the desired essential qualities of image-making?

I love setting out with an image in mind which often starts with the sky. Every painter begins with a
certain degree of control and lends some of that over to oil paint in the process of image-making. The
results are a visual representation of that activity; the play between painter and paint. Perhaps this is
what gives each painting a different mood and personality. It is a wonderful thing when a painting can
lighten or darken someones mood.

Q10. How do you see your work relating to tradition and contemporary art practice?

Painting, like any craft requires an amount of study. I enjoy reviewing the work of my 18th and 19th
century predecessors who explored nature and opened up expressive horizons for landscape painting.
However, I have not had the same academic training they have had therefore I choose not to compare
myself to them or my contemporaries. I try not to contextualise my practice too much and let my own
interests and experiences guide me. I hope that this will help me avoid categorization and progress at a
suitable, sustainable pace.

Q11. How do different environments inspire you?

I work best in quiet environments without too much stimulation. Living rurally has given me more time
and energy for work. Nature is proven to relax the brain. It has helped my concentration and ability
clearly assess works. Breaks from the studio are necessary in order to maintain objectivity. There are
simple yet delightful distractions that the countryside has to offer; birds nesting outside my studio and
daily walks to savor the changing aroma of the earth. This time spent outside, walking in all kinds of
conditions has always been an important factor in my life. It is a health-giver and enhances my mood,
memory and curiosity.

Q12. What are the latest developments in your work?

Since moving back to Ireland in 2020, I find it easier to separate from the expectations of others and any
labels previously attached to my work. Like most painters, I experience periods of doubt and
disconnection from my practice. With more time spent here, these become less and less.
I am enjoying working on a slightly larger scale and allowing myself to spend longer resolving paintings.
It requires a different way of handling paint and covering surface area. I sand areas down, use
turpentine washes, glazes, a series of different sized brushes and palette knives. These tools help me
draw the viewers eye to different parts of the painting. I enjoy having this control over my medium. I
now ask others for their opinions and to share what they see in an image. Too often painters do not
express their original intent to or recognise their strengths and weaknesses. In my latest landscapes I
have been working from source material gathered over the last few years. I hope to achieve a balance
between light, darkness, turbulence and calm. Ultimately, I wish for them to capture a transience or
feeling that is true to life and my own experiences as a landscape artist.