Q. How do you start your day?
I usually have a coffee in my garden before I head to the studio, reading or just listening to a podcast. I’ll photograph plants or take a video of bees and butterflies sometimes I also arrange small dioramas, like composing pieces of plants and grass with snails and stones, arranged in a composition I might want to use in future works. Once in France I photographed a bright pink spider eating a butterfly! Nature scenes like that are very inspiring to me but I find rather a lot of interesting things like that occurring in my own garden, like recently a caterpillar being skinned alive by ants and a slug eating a worm. After a bit of quiet time having my coffee on the grass, it’s off to the studio.
Q. What is your earliest memory of any painting?
I remember very vividly seeing ‘The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah’ by John Martin at The Laing Art Gallery in Newcastle. As a child it felt absolutely huge and terrifying probably because of that intensity I was completely absorbed by it. But my first memory of a painting was probably a printed replica of a JH Lynch’s ‘Nymph’ painting that hung at my Grandad’s house. As a 3-4 year old I remember thinking the forests looked magical and dark, but it makes sense that a child would highlight those aspects of the image.
Q. How did you discover lacquerware?
I discovered European lacquer when I was made Painter Stainer’s Decorative Surface fellow at the City & Guilds of London Art School in 2018. The Painters Stainer’s as well as the City and Guilds Art School saw the need for the upkeep of traditional decorative techniques as the declining numbers of practitioners has resulted into the problem of these skills no longer being passed down the way they once were. I was introduced to Japanning by Hugi Hicyilmaz and instantly fell in love with the technique, as I observed that my style when it comes to two dimensional surfaces, was acutely complemented by the aesthetic properties of the practice and I think it opened up a well of creativity and inspiration that I knew was there, but hadn’t found how to use. Things just easily fell into place for me … it’s like something just clicked and my work felt more defined and exciting.
Q. What is the quality you like the most about it?
I would say that the thing I like most about it is the way the pieces subtly change with the light throughout the day. The best time to look at them perhaps is sunset because the richness of the gold reflects the vibrant orange tones of the sun, lighting up the details of the piece, giving them a warm and very beautiful shine. But I would have to say that my personal favourite is night time. The gold has an ethereal glow when it is dark. It looks almost paranormal. The depth of the black sharpens the contrast and the glow of the gold leaf, makes each piece look like a polished gemstone.
Q. What is the biggest challenge?
I find the biggest challenge is the incredibly laborious process of board prepping, with long hours of sanding and trying to get the painted layers even. Each piece has up to 25-30 layers of lacquer, which needs to be sanded between layers to prevent large raises lines of the brush. Some days it can become a rather meditative experience as you spend hours interacting and building up these surfaces, sensitive to different weathers, reacting to the atmosphere and even the marks left by the paintbrush affect the overall materiality of the final product… but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t mostly tedious labour.
Q. What is the narrative you are trying to convey in the works?
Historically Sottobosco paintings were often responses to scientific and philosophical discoveries of the time, which to me make the works very exciting, and it’s certainly something I had in mind when approaching my own practice. My works intend to zoom into the insect level world like a magnifying glass, mirroring our own society, with so much harmony and beauty to be witnessed, as well as addressing issues about our environment, our role in it and even the philosophical dilemmas of having to face death and suffering. Art has often depicted the environment and time – my work addresses issues regarding the deterioration of flora and fauna reflective of our own current environmental crisis. So in my approach I depict birds and insects falling from the skies in a horror movie-esque way, showing the environmental conflict we currently face, but always in a fairy tale-like atmosphere, perhaps as a way to package my discourse in a visual language that is accessible and universally recognised, with visual references indicating a sense of nostalgia, literary storytelling and symbolically charged. I commonly emphasise certain elements in my compositions, such as plants, insects and fruits, historical symbols used within politics, science, technology, religion, folklore and literature that could take the meaning of a variety of different things, allowing the viewer to create their own stories.
Q. The scenes look very English or European but the technique is Japanese, historically, was there English lacquerware as well as that from the Far East, or are you the first English lacquer artist?!
Although the technique imitates Asian lacquer work, Japanning is a European technique which was brought to Britain during the 17th century to keep up with the demand for Asian lacquer work, Historically the English imitation lacquer work made was mimicking eastern themes or copying eastern designs, using European lacquer to replicate the characteristics of Asian products highly popular throughout Europe at the time. There was a book written called ‘A Treatise of Japanning and Varnishing’ by John Stalker and George Parker, which was filled with templates of images and recipes as a manual for people to use on the japanning technique. Today japanning is only practiced in conservation, which is why it is on the Radcliffe list of Endangered Crafts. I have not come across anyone so far using the technique as an art form but maybe I’ve just not heard of them yet. I know people who know how to do the technique but have tried to look for other’s that share the practice in a fine art context but I’ve been unsuccessful at finding one as of yet!
Q. If money and time were no objects, what kind of work would you make?
I would like to make something immersive, where you feel like you’re completely in a world like Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirrored rooms. If they weren’t as beautiful as they already are I would like to do it in a cathedral like St. Paul’s, Santa Maria del Fiore or Notre Dame where I could fill the walls with forest scenes and the whole ceiling would be birds in the night sky, the inside of the domes japanned with images of the planets orbiting around a huge golden sun like a planetarium.
