George McLeod

Sci-fi sparkle Red Blue Tree by Night with skylight stars - Framed Print

2021

"I am primarily driven by an exploration of colour and form. My objective is to bring an emotional is to bring an emotional element and aesthetic balance to my work." "It came to me in the middle of the night - as these things often do - that to incorporate gold leaf into the finished print would neatly encapsulate some of the elements I am trying to express. Its application would obviously have to be done by hand with all its attendant imperfections and mistakes. Kintsugi - the Japanese art of patching broken ceramics with gold - shares its aesthetic with Wabi Sabi." - Valda Bailey...

Print detail: Painting like photographic print, Printed on Museum Glass and Hand Gilded with Gold leaf in custom made frame. 41 x 57 cm (Framed) Glass Print from Edition of 1/5 Series: Blossom Blizzard (New Print on Glass edition 2022) Shipping: The print on glass would be packed and into wooden crate for artwork protection and shipped with professional art shippers. About the work: "Despite T.S. Eliot's assertion that 'April is the cruellest month', I invariably feel a sudden surge of wellbeing and optimism when the first scent of spring hangs in the air. I know I'm far from alone in this - photographers and artists surely feel that sense of excitement as keenly as any gardener eagerly rifling though their seed packets. Mother Nature, it seems, is handing us our images on a plate. The light is soft and benign, the colours, gentle, and the countryside seems to suddenly be filled with boundless enthusiasm. Quotes such as 'Spring is nature's way of reminding us that every day is worthy of celebration' pop up on social media with unfailing regularity - long before the first cuckoo is heard. This image was taken at Stanmer Park, just outside of Brighton. A blustery day in early April, the air was filled with the sweet smell of April and the profligacy and exuberance of the new growth emerging was inspirational. Blossom-laden branches were everywhere but I concentrated on one small tree that stood apart from the rest. For reasons unclear, its tiny flowers seemed whiter, fluffier, altogether more generous than that of any of its neighbours. It was bitterly cold. The type of cold that can only be experienced when one has left home in overly optimistic clothing, only to realise that the wind chill factor hadn't been accounted for when getting dressed. I struggled on for about half an hour - reluctant to retreat to the warmth of the nearby cafe and the very enticing appeal of a cup of coffee. Fortunately, my inspiration came quickly - as the tiny petals blew around my head and I stood there shivering in all my reckless optimism, I realised it felt like nothing more than being encased in one of those half-domed snow globes. The fiercest blizzard was surely never this intense. I certainly couldn't imagine it ever being this cold. Photographic perfection is not my objective. Its obedient conformity initially attracts, but, for me, leaves little enticement to investigate further. So it was that the tangled complexity of branches and the disparate arrangement of blossom engaged, rather than frustrated my aspirations. By layering image upon image, frame upon frame, I was able to build up the layers of blossom and emphasise the movement of the branches. All photographic images represent a moment in time. The way I make my images combine several. I walked around the tree, back and forth trying to engage with the long-limbed gaucheness of its extended branches. The colour palette needed little intervention; I don't think anybody makes a paint called 'blustery blue' but perhaps they should. This contrasted beautifully with the jade and emerald grass, subsequently overlaid with soft white snowflakes and created, what for me, was a very pleasing and fresh arrangement of seasonal colours." - Valda Bailey

"Burnt Place" - After the fire swept through, the forest was left scorched and barren. The ground is still warm and the unstirring air is thick with the scent of charred wood. Scorched, lifeless pines stand solemn and mournful in the shadows of the Burnt Place. About the Twilight's Path project: "We spend our lives surrounded by the security of possessions, relationships and roles, but our futures hold nothing so substantial; one day we must all enter into true not- knowing - into a dark, unconscious place." Jasper Goodall...

The midsummer full moon casts its pale light over the skeletal remains of a deceased oak. Twilight's Path ‘Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim, borne in heedless hum’ – William Collins (1721–1759), Ode to Evening. "Once in a while (helped by a bit of planning) everything comes together and you take a photograph that feels really satisfying. However much one reads about artists/photographers trying and failing, taking many shots to end up with that one that works, it’s hard to remember. Just keep showing up, keep doing what you do, it won’t always work out, but sometimes things flow and something special can come through." - Jasper Goodall...

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