[click on image to see detail]
on back of painting:
“Watcher at the Pointer” “Fog on the Island” “Bird Watcher” egg tempera. Tom Forrestall. March 2011.
in the studio I hit a wall with this shape, so I went back to nature. ie: Hartland’s point and there with the blank panel and India ink, the crooked road was made straight. On site, there are endless possibilities for this shape or any shape…Take any reasonable shape back to the nature and you’ll be astonished how well it works. It’s another great test for the creative dynamics of the shapes and it wins. A few more words on the shapes. Walk through your own rooms or an art gallery, one looks from the boundaries to define what they’re looking at. one sees the shape before it’s subject. 99% of the time it’s a rectangle. In truth, the shape is a boring convention that should be tossed out of the painting 99% of the time. Now the artist can be liberated from the numbing uncreative rectangle. the shape then becomes the artist’ creation. That leads them to a total creation. the rectangle is like of those damn dictators who will go on ruling with an iron fist until someone screams out “enough is enough…be gone with you”. Well, I’ve been screaming it out for 50 years but nobody pays any attention. “A voice crying out in the wilderness.” Enough said! In 1956 Alex Colville taught me the basics of painting in egg tempera. there was to it something most riveting. I took to it and while it would be several years until I could get back at it in a big way (early 1960s) it stayed with me. Today it is my studio medium of choice and been so for almost 50 years. it has never disappointed or let me down. With each new painting, adventure unfolds more and more of itself. Its delicate beautiful luminosity, its mystique, its permanence, its history, its all visible brushstrokes, its simplicity…even its limitations. All endear egg tempera to me. it si the most satisfying of all the mediums I’ve worked with. Hartland’s point and Devil’s Island is just a short drive from my home/studio. I’m always amazed how so close to the city it is but how few go there. At the mouth of Halifax Harbour it is windswept and batter by the North Atlantic. Making it all a rugged place of great beauty and solitude.