I am a Jazz enthusiast. As many of you know, I had a former career as a concert pianist; I no longer play concerts, though I continue to teach. My field is classical piano, which some see as a restricting genre (it is not). It might come as a surprise though, to learn of my passion for Jazz, but to me, the correlation between the free flights of the imagination inherent in creating abstract art, and the magnificently incandescent improvisations epitomised by, say, John Coltrane or Ornette Coleman seems obvious. John Coltrane Jazz is one of those art forms which, thankfully, tends to rebel against definition. Look up online attempts at defining the genre, and the results are laughably reductionist. At the core of Jazz is something so intense, powerful and wide-ranging, that it really does not matter what 'makes it' Jazz. An exceptional musician colleague of mine, a former student of Nadia Boulanger, was an ardent devotee of J.S Bach, Richard Strauss, Wagner, Schumann and Brahms; he was also heavily into Led Zeppelin. Jazz, however, he found 'sleazy', a point of view I have never understood. Perhaps its freedom disturbed him. Jazz is certainly not for everyone. I also remember discussing with one of my own piano students, her study of Miles Davis' KIND OF BLUE in her music classes at school. “Too much improvisation”, she said. I still smile at this statement, which was superbly honest, to say the least! People still fret though, about what Jazz is. I read recently of a conversation between two jazz musicians which was interrupted by a rude bystander. The interloper demanded to know 'what jazz is'. One of the musicians responded “If you don't know, don't ask”. This, I feel, gets to the heart of the matter. What about Art? What makes something Art? What makes something 'Not Art'? I have been urged to write about this subject. I don't want to. I do not wish to add my “two-penn'orth” to a discussion that has already been thrashed to death. I have my views, but they shift, flow and get bigger, and nobody needs my 'definition of the day'. I found myself thinking about the question today when reading the poet Brian Patten's PROSE POEM TOWARDS A DEFINITION OF ITSELF. Mr Patten writes: “When in public poetry should take off its clothes and wave to the nearest person in sight; it should be seen in the company of thieves and lovers rather than that of journalists and publishers. On sighting mathematicians it should unhook the algebra from their minds and replace it with poetry; on sighting poets it should unhook poetry from their minds and replace it with algebra: it should touch those people who despise being touched...it should not pretend to be a clerk or a librarian. It is the eventual sameness of contradictions...Poetry is the astronaut stepping for the first time into liquid space.” Patten, writing about his prose-poem, has stated (much as I have done above, regarding my shifting views on what constitutes Art) “Since the poem was written, I've not changed my mind about it, only now I think Poetry is about even more things.” So, if I may borrow this lovely piece of writing to illustrate my thoughts about Art today, I will simply substitute the word 'Art' for the word 'Poetry', and thank Mr Patten for his extremely thought-provoking writing which I first read in 1978. To finish, here is my newest painting, which people generally seem to like. A KISS OF PEACE - Haydn Dickenson 2023 Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

Some of you know that I have not been in a good 'headspace' recently. I have a few issues going on at present, in addition to a physical injury that has laid me somewhat low. Fortunately, I have managed to keep painting, not always possible during hard times. You may also have noticed the absence of a July Newsletter on this blog. I had anticipated some big news to tell this month, but it has not happened. Today, without any hint of flippancy, I want to talk about fruit. As the son of an artist mother who sowed within me the seeds of a passion for art, I have always been deeply drawn to the still life paintings of Paul Cézanne. Even as a boy, the artist's style in these pictures gave me a tactile sensation inside which persists to this day when I look at them. STILL LIFE WITH A CURTAIN. Paul Cézanne, c 1898 The fecund fruit, the white cloth that is flowingly rumpled while also seeming bizarrely static, the lovely jug with its blowsy flowers, the curtain with its design reminiscent of Cézanne's beloved Provence hills, the perspective that is vertiginously off-kilter; all these elements coalesce in a heady cocktail of bucolic sensuality. How could an artist not be beguiled and seduced by fruit? Real fruit that is, not the prostituted wax-doused simulacra that sit on supermarket shelves, but ripe, rotund, proud and fragrant specimens, bursting with the sun's sweetness. One of my favourite paintings in the Tate Modern, London is Picasso's DISH OF PEARS (1936). DISH OF PEARS - PABLO PICASSO, 1936 DISH OF PEARS - PABLO PICASSO, Detail 1 DISH OF PEARS - PABLO PICASSO, Detail 2 Properly and pedantically, the accompanying dish of apples that is also in the picture should be acknowledged in the title, but who cares. I adore this painting, with its probably-bone-handled-knife stuck upright to the left of the dish (reminding me of the table knives of my childhood), the pears that seem to have eyes, the glorious lozenges of the crockery's shape, the defining cream mass with which Picasso triumphantly encases the fruit, and last but by no means least the quasi-baroque swirls with which the artist has adorned the wonderful frame. I risk the ignominy of the alarm's shriek every time I strain across the gallery wire, in order to shiver with pleasure at Picasso's handling of the paint at close sight in this deeply sensual canvas. Fruit is symbolic. It contains the seeds that usher in progeny. If one is so inclined, one might view that symbolic fruit as sinful. I am not so inclined. Fruit is perfumed, soft, swelling and ripe. It entices. It rewards with its tactile splendour, its sweet flavour, its nutrition and its healing properties. Fruit provides the artist with inspiration for Still Lifes that are alive with Real Life. Look at the intense movement that Van Gogh brings to his pears in the 'not-so-Still-Life' below; the background that sweeps up and to the left, the fruits that seem to swirl and jostle, strangely amorphous, but with that characteristic twisted stem of the 'Williams' Pear; and every one of them kissed by the sun. The mass of richness resembles a litter of kittens, freshly born. STILL LIFE WITH PEARS - Vincent Van Gogh, 1887-8 To finish, let us take the post-digestive tonic of a lemon, in the magnificent hands of Henri Matisse; luscious, acid-sweet, accompanied by a shining spoon and a cooling glass. STILL LIFE WITH LEMON - Henri Matisse 1917 “Art is a fruit that grows in man, like a fruit on a plant, or a child in its mother's womb.” Hans Arp. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

No, not me – I passed the half-century a long time ago, but this blog; in a few posts' time we'll have reached 50 together! Thank you all so much for your support, and please keep sharing the site. Apologies once again for a recent slight scaling-back on posts, and on their content. I'm in a slightly strange head-space at present with some personal issues going on, and I don't currently have the appetite for deep and searching writings of the type that I was at least trying to achieve a few weeks and months ago. Today then, I would simply like to offer another new painting; this is I'M LISTENING, a 102 x 76 cm oil painting on deep edge canvas. I'M LISTENING - Haydn Dickenson 2023 Astute readers will recognise a significant resemblance to CONFINEMENT, one of my favourites of the recent 30 x 25 cm 'Spatial' series. CONFINEMENT - Haydn Dickenson 2023 You may remember that a very prominent gallery has recently admired my small 'spatial' series and advised me to 'go bigger' with it. One metre tall or wide has always been a favourite size for me so I plunged in, albeit with a little trepidation at embarking on something I usually avoid like the plague – basing a new painting on a former one. I'M LISTENING does indeed represent a transmogrification or even a metempsychosis of the former small painting, CONFINEMENT, into something markedly different. I feel quite strongly about how it is different but please, let me not put words into your mouths, dear readers! Tell me! No July newsletter yet – sorry once again; there is really no news. My representatives' new website is nearly ready but still not quite. Once it's alive and alight there will be lots to tell. Meanwhile https://www.iologies.com/ - no prizes for spotting bits of me all over that front page! Have a beautiful start to what will hopefully be a long and happy summer. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

As you all know, I like to keep posts coming on a roughly weekly basis, sometimes even more enthusiastically even than that! Here's one for tonight then but, with apologies, its just a first airing of a new painting I completed this evening; it's a very muggy 30 degrees here in the south of England – I love it, but it's still a shock to the system for us Brits. Too hot to write about anything deep tonight! After a visit to a prominent gallery in the Cotswolds a couple of weeks ago, feedback from there indicated that I should persist with my ongoing series of 30 x 25 cm paintings with a view to possible inclusion in an upcoming exhibition. So, here is the latest in that series. SUNDAY GRIBOUILLAGE - Haydn Dickenson 2023 I'm currently exploring spatial relationships within confines; shapes that are both sensual and rotund yet somewhat constrained, sectors of colour that balance cool with heated, and that rub shoulders but sometimes don't quite touch. I'd love some reactions to this painting – a few of you are brilliant at bouncing back impressions and so on, so please don't stop! Oh, and you can still buy OUT ON THEE, SEEMING at the Woburn Gallery, which has described the painting as “extremely impactful”.https://www.woburnartgallery.co.uk/index.php?page=product&id=1344 Off to water my tomatoes now! Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

The British artist Tracey Emin has always been a polarising figure. It is not my intention to offer any kind of general critique on Emin's work here; in my opinion though, she is currently producing her very best work. Of late, huge paintings and drawings, loosely and dramatically figurative, with bags of negative space (you all know I love that!) and expressive drips, the whole being discreetly and minimally framed, are the powerful order of the day. Tracey, a cancer survivor, seems to have acquired a new wisdom and depth which is infusing her work in a most exciting way. I begin by writing about Tracey Emin because of a post which I saw recently on her Instagram page, in which she wrote: “I enjoyed painting...(last night )...I could have carried on all night but I probably would have ended up painting over everything I'd done. Everything looks so different in the morning. That's why, even in my darkest moments, I knew if I could just wait, life would change”. It is the word 'Change' that set me thinking; change in life and change in art. I have always loved and embraced change – though this statement might baffle some people who see me as someone who has singularly failed to free himself from certain limiting facets of life. OK – they have a point, to a degree. I have hinted at certain habitual and learned patterns of behaviour - with which I am engaged in active combat - in paintings such as CONFINEMENT (2023). I stand my ground however and maintain that, in multiple complex ways, I revel in things being in a state of flux. Come on – in 2015 I even staged an exhibition at the Queen's Park Arts Centre, Aylesbury, UK, which I entitled STILLNESS IN FLUX! I love paradoxes, incidentally. STILLNESS IN FLUX - Haydn Dickenson at QPC, Aylesbury, September-October 2015 Stasis is anathema to me. My paintings usually embody a flowing element, as does the evolution of my style in its various meanderings. LA JOUISSANCE - Haydn Dickenson (2019) I have always feared arriving at a state in my painting life at which I might sit still, and seem to onlookers to be making the same picture over and over again. Mentioning no names, I believe there exist both ancient precedents and current incidences of many such creative stalemates in the art world at large. Some individuals have sought to label my work with tags such as 'phases' (I dislike the dismissive, transitory implication of the word) or as 'periods', as if such and such a modus operandi were never to be revisited – 'just a passing phase'. The reality is, however, that many common elements, symbols, and allusions permeate my canvases, persisting, surfacing and resurfacing across time. Portals are evident, windows, layers, levels of composition and of tone, shapes whether craggy or suggestively rounded, colour masses both vibrant and neutral, marks whether linear (please, not 'geometric'!) and gesturally sensual, the natural world, an urban cacophony. One might understand the references that come and go in my pictures as being akin to the myriad differing ripples in a lake made by, say, a pebble, a rock, or a leaf breaching its surface; or the effect of a gentle breeze on its glassy mirror as against that of violent rain or a thunderstorm. Yes, my painting style changes superficially, shifts, flows in time. Is that what perplexes those who suggest that my voice is restless, that it doesn't park itself in a safe space? Surely that is a good thing! FACE UP TO THE FACTS - Haydn Dickenson (2019) SHE THAT COMES LATE TO THE DANCE - Haydn Dickenson (2021) UNTITLED - Haydn Dickenson (2017) Collectors of my work frequently remark on how a painting in their possession looks different on a different day. This is one of the marvellous gifts that abstract art brings to the viewer – a suggestion, an allusion, a ghost of an image, a feeling evoked by colour juxtaposition and composition which is fleeting, evanescent, and which transmogrifies capriciously according to ambient light. What we see one day, we might be impervious to the next. If we conform too much to a single path, the gamut of expression becomes restricted. Pure abstraction, in its infinite flux, casts boundaries and limits asunder. From the Buddhist concept of Annica, we learn that nothing is permanent anyway, that all is subject to change. The idea that an artist's output might best languish in some commercial 'sweet-spot' seems awfully complacent to me. Isn't it highly desirable that a painter should surprise you, not necessarily by going completely 'off-piste' in a way that could suggest a lack of substance or an over-eclectic mind, but by presenting recurrent themes in a way that make us think, and question? LILA SAYS - Haydn Dickenson (2023) Helen Frankenthaler stated that “Every canvas is a journey all its own”. To that I would add that the journey never ends. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

The death has recently been announced of the French painter Françoise Gilot, at the age of 101. Françoise Gilot STILL LIFE WITH FLOWERS AND CHERRIES - Françoise Gilot (1979) Readers will know of my interest in female artists and, more particularly, those whose careers have been overshadowed by those of their husbands, lovers and male siblings. Françoise Gilot was case in point, being a Muse and lover of Pablo Picasso between 1943 and 1953 and bearing two of his children, Paloma and Claude. Like me, Gilot was taught first by her mother who encouraged the young Françoise to draw in ink rather than pencil so as not to become dependent on the eraser! Though her time with Picasso led her, temporarily, to align somewhat to cubism, she developed her own style after dissociating from him, producing work of a uniquely dynamic power and bold lyricism. ON THE WAY - Françoise Gilot (2004) It seems that Picasso's inflated ego felt threatened by and resentful of the success of his lover and Muse, as he refused to attend Françoise's first solo exhibition in 1952, while they were still together. It is said, furthermore, that he subsequently attempted to block dealers from representing her work. Françoise Gilot then, is one in a long line of superb female artists who have lived and worked in the shadow of their partners. Witness Elaine de Kooning (wife of Willem de Kooning) and Lee Krasner (wife of Jackson Pollock), both magnificently represented in the exhibition ACTION, GESTURE, PAINT which I attended at the Whitechapel Gallery in London last month. Gwen John was eclipsed by both her brother, Augustus John and by her husband, Auguste Rodin. Sonia Delauney, wife of Robert, fared better; the couple succeeded in a maintaining an artistic symbiosis. It is to be hoped that Françoise Gilot's passing will bring a renaissance of interest in her remarkable work. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

I am not known, usually, for blowing it – my own trumpet, that is! Today though, I decided to do so in a gentle way, perhaps a little like Miles Davis, muted, à la 'Kind of Blue'. This is because, with apologies, I have not posted an article for more than two weeks, which is both remiss of me, and unusual. In truth, I have had a few stresses in my personal life and have not felt like writing. Today then, I will simply show you a few of my recent small paintings together with some brief observations along the way. My name is not particularly associated with smaller pieces, but it has been a joy working on this series – amounting to six or seven so far – in response to a format suggestion by my representatives, Iologies Fine Art. All are in Oil Paint on Canvas, some with added other media; all are 30 x 25 cm in unframed size. All will soon be offered for sale framed. Most recent is POINT OF VIEW. This piece pleases me greatly. The rich blues of varying tones are laden in fairly thick impasto (in relation to the small canvas size), lightened by airily delicate purple. A unifying element in my body of work is the reference to portals, gateways, doors or windows through which one looks towards something beyond, often - temporarily - being unable to pass through. Confinement is a frequent and powerful theme. POINT OF VIEW - Haydn Dickenson 2023 POINT OF VIEW joins, stylistically, with another piece in this series, A&S GRIBOUILLAGE. Painted during a happy time - the visit of some family members earlier this year - the mood feels lighter in this picture, though the central portal is dark as night. A&S GRIBOUILLAGE - Haydn Dickenson 2023 GET MY POINT? feels buoyant and unconstrained. My three-year-old granddaughter, adorably and perceptively advised me on when this painting was finished! GET MY POINT? - Haydn Dickenson 2023 OUT ON THEE, SEEMING, with its titular quotation from Shakespeare, crackles with energy,. It is currently on show and available for purchase at the Woburn Gallery, Woburn, Bedfordshire, UK. https://www.woburnartgallery.co.uk/ OUT ON THEE, SEEMING - Haydn Dickenson 2023 Finally for today, CONFINEMENT addresses the theme mentioned above, but with a positivity that I find as uplifting to look at as it was empowering to create. This painting has received much favourable reaction. CONFINEMENT - Haydn Dickenson 2023 Continued thanks and appreciation go out to all my subscribers. Please don't hesitate to share the site among friends. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

Look out at the night sky and, if you are like me, be humbled and grounded by the vastness and majesty that you drink in with your eyes; be acutely and gloriously aware of the insignificance of absolutely everything that we do on this earth, in the face of the overwhelming grandeur of the universe. Van Gogh caught the monumental power of such an instant in one of his most justly famous paintings, STARRY NIGHT (1889), created during a period intense mental anguish. STARRY NIGHT - Vincent van Gogh (1889) There is a popular myth that the stars we see in our night sky are already dead, that they have burnt out. Though stars can and do perish, almost every star that we see is still alive. The more massive the star, the shorter is its life span. 'Our' sun, however, can continue to fuse hydrogen for some ten billion years. Some very small stars may survive for up to a trillion years. In the face of this, our fretting about the longevity of artworks emerges as a laughable vanity. We worry and stress about archival art materials, about the risk of pigments fading, of varnish cracking, of frames falling apart; all valid concerns of course, with regard to the few generations during which a painting will be appreciated before natural disintegration inevitably intervenes, but worth putting into perspective nonetheless. As my readers know, I have invited suggestions in a previous post https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/any-requests , for topics suitable for future blog posts. This invitation, incidentally, still stands if any of you have ideas! With my invitation in mind, my brother-in-law recently told me of a 1990's American comedy-drama series, "Northern Exposure” apparently something of a cult production which, as well as providing off-beat entertainment, predicted later social and lifestyle trends including that of the iPhone generation, citing “the self-affirming power of a new toy”. A fish-out-of-water story in which a New York doctor is sent to practise in rural Alaska, the scenario of Northern Exposure expands to focus on other eccentric local characters in the village. In one episode the owner of the local bar is seen relaxing beside a painting of a cottage. Crucially, the picture is a 'painting by numbers', an abominable genre by any stretch of the imagination, though arguably less egregious than the current iniquity of AI 'art'. In the scene, the bar owner is mocked by a patron, for displaying the monstrosity on his wall. Another local, the DJ at the bar, known for his regular discourse on philosophical and intellectual subjects, wisely suggests that the painting should be burnt while - more significantly - using this pronouncement to argue that the ultimate point of the creation of Art is its eventual destruction. Pondering on this scene and on the natural degradation of works of art as mentioned above, I began to reflect upon the significant number of artists who have sought a dramatic hastening of the process, destroying their work in gestures which, whether grand or casual, may be argued to be making way for subsequent greater glories of artistic creation. The crop is sown in the field, so to speak, it flowers, bears fruit and is harvested, after which its spent leaves and roots are ploughed back into the soil to make way for, and to nourish, a successive crop. In my article, THE VISUAL ARTS AND PERMANENCE https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/the-visual-arts-and-permanence , I discussed a point raised by another of my readers that, for the artist, a painting may embody “an alarming degree of permanence which, once expressed, cannot be escaped”. The British artist Banksy famously confronted this subject in 2018 when, the moment after his 2004 painting GIRL WITH BALLOON was sold at auction for $1.8 million, the canvas was witnessed by a dumbfounded house, falling through its frame and shredding. By instigating this unprecedented gesture, Banksy invited us to consider the subject of permanence in art while simultaneously adding hugely to the painting's value. The shredded version went on to sell for over $24 million. GIRL WITH BALLOON - Banksy (2004) The title WATER LILIES is such an iconic one in the relation to the great impressionist painter Claude Monet that we tend to think of one picture that is very familiar to us; it is easy to forget that the painting or paintings we might know best are part of an extensive series. Around two hundred and fifty Water Lily paintings by Monet exist; less well-known is that Monet slashed and destroyed at least thirty more. More recently and over several decades, Gerhard Richter has annihilated over sixty of his canvases deemed by him to be sub-standard. After the death of Francis Bacon in 1992, one hundred or so slashed canvases were discovered at his London studio. Bacon was well-known during his lifetime for practising destruction; he admitted that many of the ruined pieces were among his best, regretting their loss. GORILLA WITH MICROPHONES - Francis Bacon (slashed by the artist) - Collection Dublin City Gallery - copyright The Estate of Francis Bacon - DACS London Let me finish this article on a more positive and regenerative note, by looking at two stories. Firstly, there is the account of a visit that Robert Rauschenberg made to Willem de Kooning's studio in 1953. Rauschenberg had been interested for some time in the idea of art created through erasure, experimenting with his own work to this end. He wanted, however, what he considered a more significant piece to work with, obtaining from a reluctant de Kooning a drawing which he was permitted to erase. This Rauschenberg did, over the course of a couple of months. The piece conveys an extremely touching fragility, a little like a antique photographic print that has faded beyond recognition in years of sunlight, the print now being deceased as are its subjects. ERASED DE KOONING DRAWING - 1953. Robert Rauschenberg The second story is of Jasper Johns, he whose lunches Andy Warhol praised so highly in one beautiful interview, when the interviewer tried unsuccessfully to encourage Warhol to comment on Johns' paintings. Over the course of several years until 1954, Jasper Johns destroyed all his work, later claiming with some regret that it had been time “to stop being an artist”. The expunging of his entire corpus, the wiping-clean of his intellectual blackboard became a creative catalyst for Johns, who experienced an artistic renaissance, beginning again from zero and going on to produce his defining work. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

Many years ago, during a particularly difficult time in my life, I embarked on a course of hypnotherapy. I remember my therapist, when she was putting me 'under', asking me to imagine stepping onto a descending escalator and going “down, down, down”. I still find this a most persuasive image, and I think of it often. While I wouldn't pretend that the act of painting is fully akin to a state of hypnosis, there do seem to me to be some similarities. Hypnosis means mystery, the unknown (at least consciously), discovery, revelation, catharsis. I have referred before, in these articles, to the image of opening a door which is the act of transcending the blankness of the canvas, of going beyond it into releasing the first mark, of becoming one with the nascent work. I am reminded of how my great piano teacher Peter Feuchtwanger instilled in his disciples the need to make movements at the piano without premeditation. In this way, the player would become one with the instrument, there would be no superfluous motion, and all unnecessary physical tension would be released. Abstract painting is no different; there must be no constraints, and as little as possible should be preordained. A STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION - Haydn Dickenson (2021) “Down, down, down” the metaphorical escalator I went while sitting in my therapist's chair nearly twenty years ago. Reminiscent of this experience is that 'opening of the door' into the altered state which I enter when painting. A degree of trance is achieved, during which I am relatively unaware of external stimuli, and am guided by the emerging painting rather than in charge of it. As an artist and a human, one is always growing. I never wish to stand still in my Art. Art is a mirror, and it is a journey. One of my favourite poems is “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost, from which I quote: “The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep” BUT I HAVE PROMISES TO KEEP - Haydn Dickenson (2015) Sometimes I descend that escalator; on other occasions I walk, 'with miles to go...' into those deep woods, full of wonder, full of discovery, full of the unexpected. Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

Each time I paint, I am conscious of how the act, the process, the sensations and the outcome are never the same. Recently I have been starting to paint in the late afternoon, going into the evening; today I went into the studio in the early morning and the energy was different, and disturbingly so. I was diffident, cautious and shy in my gestures where, the previous three evenings, my mark making had been confident and authoritative; strange perhaps as, in general, I tend to be a 'morning-person'. I began to reflect on the stages through which I travel on the journey that takes place with the canvas as its highway. The author Lailah Gifty Akita has written: “Life is in different stages. Every stage of life is the foundation for the next stage of life. Every stage of life must be fully lived.” The same is true of a painting. I always love the first marks that I make on a canvas. I long to keep them. Since I was a child I have been drawn to the glorious unfinished work left to us by Cézanne - still lifes and Provence-scented landscapes which murmur their fresh fragrance to the viewer as if the artist had just left the room. I often feel this way about the earliest phases of my own paintings, when shapes have been roughly indicated in thin sepia or burnt sienna paint, or in graphite lines, unburdened by subsequent marks which have the potential to emerge as over-thought or pre-meditated. WORK IN PROGRESS - Detail Day 2 I crave to leave the painting thus, enjoying its elements of Zen-like immediacy, but I am conscious that its minimalism is just a little too minimal. I am aware that, instead of piercing clarity and unfettered spontaneity, there is merely a lack of substance; and so, like Hesse's Goldmund, I walk the next leg of the picaresque journey that each painting presents, ready for what may be thrown at me. WORK IN PROGRESS - Detail Day 3 It struck me me this morning, while working further on the current piece, that there are crucial phases in the creation of a picture that are never meant to be seen. Obviously, no mark made on a canvas is ever made in vain and every layer or stratum of paint has a significance. I realised today though, that it is more than that - that it doesn't matter if some intermediary sub-layer is ugly or clumsy, for it is meant to be hidden; perhaps it will contribute to the upper, communicative strata even more, because it is so crude and unformed. Sometimes paintings take weeks, months or even years to complete. For that reason, no one will ever see the marks that I made this morning, though the painting may bear silent witness to them one day! Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

Bridget Riley, now 92 years of age and a doyenne of the British Op Art (Optical Art) movement, has stated: “My work is completed by the viewer”. ORIENT IV ( ), Bridget Riley (1931) The possibility that the viewer can add something, contribute elements via interpretation, even elevate a painting is an idea that absorbs me. We, as artists, are catalysts rather than the issuers of edicts. Abstract art, especially, opens itself to diverse subjective readings. A painting can suggest different things on a different day, according to the prevalent light, season, time of day, or the mood or personal circumstances of the person contemplating it. One of my clients has very generously written: “I commissioned Haydn to paint a canvas for me in Spring 2022. I needed a beautiful, contemporary picture for the living room. The result is so much more that I could have hoped. It fitted my brief wonderfully. The colour is perfect: it conjures a mood of bright, brooding vitality and is a joy to look at. The compositional balance is fabulous. To me it hints at a landscape, tumultuous and deep. The sun appears to glimpse through a stormy sky and is reflected on some form in the mid-ground and possibly, the sea. Every time I look at it, I see something new, like the reflected shapes on the right. Maybe a far-off mountain, caught in the fading sunlight? That said, I love its ambiguity. It isn’t an obvious landscape. In essence it is an exploration of colour, tone, light and shade.” A central preoccupation in my life is the theme of confinement, most particularly relating to the way in which we wish to escape the limitations that confinement brings while finding it hard to break free from the shackles with which we are familiar. My very recent painting, CONFINEMENT, explores this theme. CONFINEMENT - Haydn Dickenson (2023) Oil, Graphite and Conté Crayon on Canvas, 30 x 25 cm unframed In the light of Bridget Riley's persuasive statement as quoted at the head of this article, I invite readers to offer interpretations of/reflections on this small painting. So let's be hearing from you! Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023

In my April newsletter, I announced a new feature for the blog, in the form of occasional articles by guest contributors. Today I am delighted to introduce to you Helen Long, a UK-based ceramicist who produces deeply thought-provoking work, often ethereal and sensual, influenced by human issues, the natural world and by matters highly relevant to our time.** So, over to Helen: When Haydn asked if I would like to contribute to this blog I felt somewhat conflicted. On the one hand I was flattered that he suggested it, but on the other, I was unsure as to what to write. Readers of this blog will not be familiar with my work so an introduction seems appropriate. I work as a ceramicist now, but this is a relatively recent path for me; a second career later in life. I had a long career in the NHS lasting over 35 years, so what inspired me to take up ceramics? In 2014 I heard an interview with David Hockney. (James Naughtie At Home With David Hockney 2014). At 77, he was as busy as ever with the work he loved. He couldn’t envisage ever stopping. It dawned on me that I didn’t feel that way about my job at all. I didn’t love it; I would gladly give it up. After 35 years in the NHS, I wondered exactly when was it that I stopped loving what I did for a living? I envied Hockney his passion for painting. I remembered how I had loved art at school but had not pursued it. Art was a ‘wasted’ subject, I was told by my teachers. For some inexplicable reason, I did what I was told, so art was dropped and forgotten about. Until that interview. That Hockney interview was a turning point for me, at which point I started considering the next stage of my life. I started going to a pottery workshop and there I found an affinity for clay. I discovered that I loved the way it feels when you work with it, so cool to the touch, so silky and malleable. I found it deeply meditative. Time would evaporate when I was making. My teacher was inspirational and encouraged experimentation. It was she who supported my embryonic notions of taking my learning further. I left the NHS and studied for a degree in ceramics at UCA. I was lucky enough to have inspirational teachers who not only taught me ceramic techniques, but how to think and express myself creatively. Looking back on my course, I can see that my previous career, supporting women with young families, strongly influenced the work I produced. These pieces below; “Altered States” and “Rebirth” both relate to women’s mental health. ALTERED STATES by Helen Long, 2018 (Now part of a permanent collection at Dankook University, Seoul.) This work, completed in my second year, examined the damage that mental illness causes. The elements, which are profiles of faces, in the round, started out whole and were systematically scarred incrementally and eventually destroyed by the action of water on the unfired clay. I was inspired by Sherry Amatenstein, a New York therapist and writer who equated depression to “…drowning, except everyone around you is breathing.” (Amatenstein 2018) RE-BIRTH by Helen Long, 2019 (NFS) “Re-Birth” is a joyful look at the lives of women, reaching their mid-life. The vessels express damage and scarring but from them emerge bright shafts of colour and light, showing a new direction and hope for the future. There is clearly an autobiographical element to this piece. As the distance from my old life grew, the tenor of my work shifted. My love of the natural world and concerns about the destruction of our planet started to find expression in what I made. My graduate work (below, “Stone Circle”) was made in response to conservation efforts in Farnham Heath. The circle, representing a need for a holistic approach to land management. In this work I was clearly influenced by the esteemed Andy Goldsworthy, and by Alan Sonfist, whose site-specific work draws attention to what is being lost in the natural world. STONE CIRCLE, by Helen Long, 2020 (NFS) If I’m honest, there is often a semi-political, or campaigning theme to my work. I am drawn to “Art Activism” as I find it enthralling I and love the controversial. Jason deCaires Taylor is one such artist. His work, ‘Rising Waters’ is a series of sculptures on the seabed designed to highlight the issues of global warming and the destruction of coral reefs. (deCaires Taylor 2020). VICISSITUDES, by Jason deCaires-Taylor, 2006 All Jason's works are dual purposed; as a political statement and , as in this example, an active site for nature to start to colonise with new coral growth. More recent work has continued to focus on the loss of the natural world. In 2022, I created a series called “Soft Vessels”; these are altered, wheel thrown vessels which were a response to the woodland damage wrought by the January storms. These pieces obliquely reference the torn tree stumps left in the tempest’s wake. SOFT VESSEL, 26cm high, by Helen Long, 2022 This year, my work has focussed on the plight of the sea. The oceans of the world are undergoing tumultuous change due to climate change, overfishing and the dumping of plastic waste. Through my work, I hope to inspire others to connect with the ocean and explore the depths of its power and mystery, sparking conversations about the importance of environmental conservation, and to inspire people to make a difference. ROLLING SURF, 35 x 54 cm, by Helen Long, 2023 (Currently on exhibition at INSIGHT at The Base, Greenham Common, Newbury, until 29th May. With this collection, I am attempting to capture the majesty of the ocean's dance creating a sense of movement and evoking wonder. By harnessing the relationship between form and light, I deliver pieces which are both visually beautiful and emotionally evocative. * ************************************************************************ Reading Helen's beautiful piece and looking at the wonderful images of her art, I am moved by the way in which her exquisite work flows and dances with the rhythm of human life and our precious relationship with the planet which is not ours, but in whose environs we are privileged to exist. You can read more about Helen's magnificent work at https://www.helenlongceramics.com/ where you can of course contact her regarding purchase of her work. If you're in the UK (or even if you're not!), why not drop by Helen's current exhibition at https://www.helenlongceramics.com/events Thank you, Helen, for inaugurating the guest spot on my blog so splendidly!** Thank you also, readers, for reading. If you have enjoyed Helen's wonderful article, please take a look at some of mine also, and consider subscribing to and sharing this website. *Copyright Helen Long 2023 **Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2023