Some villages feel like the home of ghosts and shadows, the bright light vanishing into sharp, angular shadows. Only the sound of chickens clucking, the occasional rustle of a tree in a hot breeze break the spell. This work depicts the corner of a village street in the height of summer. It is on a […]Read Post ›
In the early hours, before Paris fully awakens, the road is empty and I am alone. The colours are muted, grey, ochre, pink, like a forest in autumn, the cafés shuttered still. The air is scented with baking bread, with roasting coffee beans. In the background, the Eiffel Tower rises up, touching the sky, This […]Read Post ›
A long walk on hot streets, the smell of tar and London plain. On a corner, a pub, a play of shadow and light, of colour, blue sky and purple stucco. The bricks reflect the light, golden almost. Inside we can seek shade, refreshment, in dark shadow and cosy nooks. The work is rich in […]Read Post ›
The perfect little home, tucked away in a Highland valley, its white walls scented by rhododendron and rose and lilac, its stone moistened by the dew and rain that comes from the peaks. A cosy cottage, the place of dreams, a fireside and stone floor, protective and nurturing, remote, far away. In summer the lavender […]Read Post ›
Texture has been added to create extra depth. The canvas is 0.5 inches deep and can therefore hang without a frame if wished. A favourite spot in Hull, on the edge of Bohemia, the world of red brick and black tile, tenfoots and melting creosote. It’s quiet here, the distant cry of a football game […]Read Post ›
A very hot summer’s day in Upstate New York, a quiet town basks in the heat. A flag hangs silently in the breezeless afternoon. The light is pervasive, powerful, bleaching, purifying. Behind, a café where ice cool milkshakes and sodas await, a slice of peach or cherry pie if wished. The sky is blue, a few clouds scud by.A beautiful piece of […]Read Post ›
A little French shop, a place of delights, of delicious snacks and savory treats. Fresh bread and sweaty cheese, freshly roasted coffee and sugary drinks. There is a nostalgia, a longing for a lost world. The work has realism and detail and it’s full of life, colour and atmosphere. The work is a great souvenir […]Read Post ›
The sound of the Minster bells is loud, throbbing almost, as though the air were alive and the ground vibrating, echoing and awakening childhood memories of half a century earlier. I love it here, my birth town, the place where my life began, the crucible of my earliest consciousness. I went to school here, had […]Read Post ›
A day in Honfleur, golden memories, fleeting happiness. Mid summer, and days of freedom stretch behind and ahead. I wander alone down a street, the heat palpable, dry, and the sound of my steps echoing from white walls. Everywhere is light; bright and clear and pure light, with squares of delicious shadow and shade. Muffled sounds […]Read Post ›
I have long been fascinated by the former British Linen Bank building that somehow survived the destruction of the Gorbals area in Glasgow after the Second World War. Rich with Art Nouveau features, and dating from 1900, the fate of the building is now more certain. I love its tall, slender form, its Glaswegian orangeness, […]Read Post ›
Andrew Reid Wildman, Scottish Artist living in France 
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