Lachlan Goudie | Once Upon A Time | November 2020 | The Scottish Gallery

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FOREWORD Lachlan Goudie has framed his new exhibition in terms of the fairy tale, the idea of far off lands and immersion in the natural world. In doing so during the lockdown this year, he has noticed the birdsong, been acutely aware of the changing seasons and visited the garden to find seasonal flowers for his still life paintings. Initial plans would have taken him much further afield but nevertheless we have the Arctic, Berwickshire, Dorset and Glasgow shipyards. In late 2016, Goudie visited the Lofoten Islands in Arctic Norway, settlements clinging onto a coastal rim beneath towering mountain and cliff, dark waters and starry skies. Then in February this year, he stayed in rural Berwickshire, the same countryside the Glasgow Boys walked and painted around the village of Cockburnspath in the mid1880s, working whenever they might en plein air, coming home at dusk to a fire and a pot of soup. Something of the dark earth and cold winter light of Guthrie’s Hind’s Daughter is recalled.

In Dorset in the glorious month of May, with his daughter Clementine running around the gardens and liberated from the grip of winter the warmth of his palette breaks out. If landscape is becoming his dominant subject his interior and still life work gives an opportunity for sumptuous blooms, cut glass and cool pewter to provide a restful counterpoint to the energy of the living landscape. Finally we reprise the Glasgow shipyard project, where the artist demonstrates his exceptional organisational and draughtsman skills recording the tumult of a working yard, cranes, spars, workers and superstructures corralled in masterful balance. This is a special time for Lachlan Goudie. His book The Story of Scottish Art has just been published, the much heralded follow-up to his excellent television series for the BBC. This exhibition will help cement his reputation as a painter of rare ability with something poetic and meaningful to say. The Scottish Gallery

1. Against the Failing Light oil on board, 133 x 112 cm

Lachlan Goudie in Norway’s Lofoten Islands, 2016

ONCE UPON A TIME Once Upon a Time is a collection of paintings inspired by places that are, or at least may recently have felt, far far away. The exhibition is comprised of works associated with fairy tales; still lifes of flowers and arrangements of objects designed to make you daydream; seascapes and landscapes depicting places you might wish to escape to. I was supposed to have been in a very different place during lockdown – the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean. During this period I was going to paint a series of tropical landscapes, images designed to complement works inspired by a journey to Norway’s Lofoten Islands. The conronavirus, however, forced a change in my plans and only the Nordic snowscapes ever made it onto canvas. So this spring instead of the tropics I was locked-down with my family in the Dorset countryside and as the crisis worsened, I found it very hard to concentrate. Gradually, however, with the year turning from late winter, to spring and into early summer, I began documenting the changing landscape in my paintings - the blossoming spring flowers and the foliage. In 2020 we all seemed to tumble through the looking glass, into a surreal world of lockdown and anxiety. As an artist I was able to run away into my paintings and my imagination. The experience which most influenced my work, however, was the nightly ritual of reading fairy tales to my three year-old daughter to send her to sleep. During those months, Clementine required me to read and re-read storybooks filled with princes, princesses, sorcerers and magical forests. Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Rapunzel were all that she wanted to hear about. Slowly this world of enchantment permeated my own imagination so that by day I began to look at the surrounding landscape through the prism of the books I used to have as

a child; beautifully illustrated volumes of Scottish and Russian folktales, woodlands full of pretty flowers momentarily unsettled by the glimpse of a crow or a malevolent wolf. Clementine insisted on living in a world of make believe and fairy tale. Like so many girls of her age she had become entranced by the Disney cartoon Frozen, she would sing the songs and roam the countryside completely immersed in the character of the cartoon’s icy powered heroine, ‘Elsa’. Central to this performance was the shimmering, vibrantly coloured dress which her parents had dutifully purchased online and which she wore from morning to night - whether thrashing her way through the undergrowth or sitting having her breakfast. Elsa and her red wellingtons would appear in the distance, returning from a walk with her mother and younger brother whilst I painted in the garden. You could see that dress a mile away. What, at first, l found garish became the living embodiment of how from cradle to grave, the human imagination is the greatest power we have. It can transport us from reality, perhaps from our worries, whenever we need it to. Whilst sketching in the arctic in 2016, I had experienced a feeling of both awe and anxiety. The landscape was stunningly beautiful, but days were short and cold, and there was a constant sense that if you strayed off the path it may be hard to find your way back. That combination of wonder and fear lies at the core of children’s fairy tales and The Snow Queen was one of the unnerving stories my daughter particularly enjoyed listening to. The tale of an icy kingdom, an evil sorceress and the ultimate triumph of a child’s purity and love seemed to lend itself to the enchanting beauty of the scenes I was painting during lockdown. But it also offered a parallel to the times we were living through as a family; embedded together in a magical landscape, unsettled by the sense of a

distant yet constant threat, inspired by the power of a child’s imagination and enthusiasm. It made every day seem like a surreal fantasy - so that’s how I painted it. The experience of being locked down in Dorset prompted me to reflect on other journeys we had made as a family earlier in the year. During a visit to the Borders in February, we had all slept in a castle. It was a wonderful 19th century folly, a building of turrets and towers, of ornate balconies and narrow, arrow-slit windows. The master storyteller, Sir Walter Scott, would have been proud to call it home. At the time my daughter couldn’t believe her eyes. This was nothing other than Sleeping Beauty’s castle, a house of many rooms where a spinning wheel might just lie behind a door – something on which a careless princess could prick a finger! In the garden there were great heaps of brambles and thorns, just waiting to envelop the sleeping fortress. And against the sky the branches of a magnificent oak tree thrashed and twisted. The countryside which surrounded our new home was also thick with history. There had once been a Medieval priory nearby and you could still visit the ruins of an iron age hillfort and a Broch dating from the 2nd century. Perhaps most significantly for me as an artist, however, was the fact that this location was near the coastal village of Cockburnspath where in the 1880s many of the Glasgow Boys came to paint. Artists like James Guthrie were inspired by the landscape of Berwickshire to create some of their most

celebrated works. In these paintings they captured the cool light and subtle palette of colours that distinguish Scotland in winter. In my book The Story of Scottish Art, I write about the work of these great artists, but it was really by painting in the places they painted that I learned most about their techniques and motivations. I was first introduced to the canvasses of the Glasgow Boys by my father, the artist Alexander Goudie who died in 2004. Throughout this recent year illness and bereavement have never been far from the headlines and perhaps, as a result, I have found myself reflecting on the relationship I enjoyed with my father. Against the Failing Light (cat. 1) is really a portrait of him, or at least the two of us. My dad taught me so much about painting and nurtured in me a great love of Scottish art. I inherited his paint encrusted palette, his brushes and easels, his old bottles of linseed oil and turps. In this painting I feature his favourite flowers, anemones and the reflection of me in a mirror creating the very scene you are looking at. I hope he would have liked it. Once Upon a Time is intended to convey my own experience of how images and the imagination can transport us from our daily concerns. But it’s also, inadvertently, a collection of works that commemorate this strange moment in time, a period I hope we will soon recall as only a distant and curious fairy tale. Lachlan Goudie

Lachlan Goudie painting in Dorset, 2018. Photo by Alastair McCormick


2. Fairy Tale oil on board, 96 x 86 cm

3. Fairest of Them All oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

4. Daydream oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

5. Elsa in the Woods oil on board, 51 x 35 cm

6. Refuge in the Woods acrylic on board, 76 x 102 cm

7. The Frozen North acrylic on board, 56 x 80 cm

8. North Mountain acrylic on board, 86 x 96 cm

9. Magnolia oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

10. Pause for Thought oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

11. Still Moment oil on linen, 20 x 20 cm

12. Arrangement in Silver and Green oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

13. The Snow Queen acrylic on board, 86 x 96 cm

14. The Rook’s Kingdom acrylic on board, 76 x 102 cm

15. The Silver Cup oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

16. Sweet Dreams oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

17. Abundance oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

18. First Bloom oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

19. Arctic Palace acrylic on board, 86 x 96

20. The Lost World acrylic on board, 76 x 102 cm

IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE GLASGOW BOYS I am a Glasgow boy. I was born in that city and my father, the artist Alexander Goudie, studied and taught at the Glasgow School of Art. The legacy of those late 19th Century artists who came to be known as the ‘Boys’, made a deep impression on my dad. When I was a young apprentice painter, he taught me their techniques and alerted me to the qualities which distinguished their work; assiduous control of tone, the use of square-edged brushes, an affinity with those French painters whose approach combined realism and naturalism. Growing up in the West of Scotland, however, it always perplexed me that the Boys largely chose to ignore the dramatic landscape of the Highlands and Hebridean islands that lie on the city’s doorstep. Instead they migrated towards the quieter geography of Southern Scotland – Kirkcudbright, Moniaive and in particular the area around Cockburnspath in the Borders. It was here that the Glasgow Boys created some of their most celebrated paintings. I recently spent ten wintry days near Cockburnspath in the small village of Abbey St Bathans, nestled amidst the ancient forests of Berwickshire. It was the first time I had ever painted in the region and the experience gave me an insight into the kinds of subjects that had so fascinated the Boys and how the landscape influenced their approach to the canvas.

Whatever the season, painting outdoors in Scotland is challenging - the weather conditions and the appearance of the landscape can change from minute to minute. In winter however, the biggest problem (even more than the snowsqualls I experienced) is that constant cloud cover and a lack of strong sunlight can make the landscape appear very flat. A subject without pronounced shadows and defined by an almost monochromatic range of colours, risks producing a mighty dull painting. The Glasgow Boys, however, were ‘tonal’ painters. They were fascinated by the subtle transitions between light and shade produced by natural lighting conditions. During my week in the Borders, I found the combination of soft light and the gentle contours of the geography a tough problem to resolve. I learned that to convey tone successfully you have to scrutinise the smallest variations in colour and form that define your subject. What’s more, without pronounced colour contrasts to provide a sense of depth you have to structure your compositions clearly in order to give each image coherency and graphic impact. Working in the same open air studio as my predecessors, I undoubtedly left Abbey St Bathans with a renewed admiration for the controlled precision of the work of those Glasgow Boys. ‘The Glasgow Boys and Girls’, Lachlan Goudie, Scottish Art News, Issue 33, Autumn 2020, The Fleming Collection

Abbey Saint Bathans, Berwickshire, Scotland

This image was painted in my studio in London. Although by then Berwickshire was far far away, the memory of the snow-covered landscape was still very fresh in my mind’s eye. I composed the still life as an interior landscape of objects, one that would complement my memory of the Lammermuir hills. Mildred, my cat, was an unexpected addition. She installed herself amidst the carefully composed scene, and returned every day as I painted, taking her place within the unwritten narrative of this painting. Lachlan Goudie

21. Far Far Away oil on board, 76 x 102 cm

The ancient woods of Berwickshire are a magical place, rich in history and atmosphere. In this scene the winter sun, riding low over the horizon, casts a long shadow. The Whiteadder Water can be glimpsed between the branches, whilst crows caw in a cold sky. Lachlan Goudie

22. The Wild Wood oil on board, 86 x 96 cm

23. Sleeping Beauty’s Castle scraperboard, 36 x 28 cm

24. Rapunzel scraperboard, 36 x 28 cm

25. Bend in the River oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

26. Cold Water oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

27. February Sundown oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

28. Winter’s End oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

29. Enchanted Forest oil on board, 35 x 51 cm

30. Abbey St Bathans, Winter oil on board, 35 x 51 cm

31. Springtime oil on board, 51 x 35 cm

32. A Berwickshire Landscape acrylic on board, 56 x 81 cm

33. Whiteadder Water oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

34. Lammermuir oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

35. The Golden Tree oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

36. Evening Treetops oil on board, 25 x 33 cm

Folk tales might seem like they belong to a far removed and distant past but you don’t have to walk far in the Berwickshire woods to feel like you have slipped into their pages. One late afternoon when I stumbled across a remote cottage surrounded by drifts of snowdrops (commonly associated with ancient religious sites) the sense of wonder and trepidation, which lies at the heart of so much storytelling, was quickly sparked in my imagination. Lachlan Goudie

37. The Huntsman’s Cottage acrylic on board, 56 x 81 cm

THE DORSET COUNTRYSIDE I spent the long months of lockdown with my wife and two young children in the Dorset countryside. Once Upon a Time Although oblivious to the scale of the events transforming our world, Clementine was still aware that life was no longer ‘normal’. During this period she escaped into an altered reality, stories of Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, Snow white and of course, the snow-covered landscape of Disney’s Frozen; the lodestar of three year-olds obsessed with princesses. Each day my daughter demanded to wear one of her garishly coloured ‘Princess dresses’ as she accompanied her mother and younger brother on walks in the blossoming garden, or in the local countryside. A sight which seemed so discordant at first, assumed the appearance of the new normality. Clementine’s single minded enthusiasm, her determination to inhabit this fantastical inner world, was hugely powerful and uplifting at a difficult time.

Irises For such a bleak time it was a beautiful spring. From March through to June I watched nature surge into life around me. Whilst human health was threatened the flowers in the garden and the leaves on the trees did their thing; immune to infection. It was an example to us all, a symbol of renewal and hope. My attention was grabbed by a bank of irises and I returned to them day after day. They bloomed gloriously one after another in delicate explosions of colour and life. But I still only had a short window in which to complete this painting before they all faded. I’m well aware that irises are a subject made famous by Van Gogh – an artist who went through many periods of difficulty and distress but still managed to create some of the most life-affirming masterpieces ever painted. Roses I regularly paint still lifes of flowers. It seems like a such an unremarkable subject, but flowers remain one of the greatest challenges for an artist to capture. They are fragile but full of life, devilishly complicated in their structure by symbolic of a kind of simple purity. As spring progressed my daughter would regularly notice the latest roses to have blossomed and would encourage her mum to help her cut the flowers and make small bouquets. She would bring them to me in the studio, how could I not paint them?

The artist’s daughter Clementine in the Dorset Countryside

38. Once Upon a Time oil on board, 86 x 96 cm

39. Summerland oil on board, 86 x 96 cm

40. Evening Pond oil on board, 33 x 25 cm

41. Clemmie’s World oil on board, 76 x 102 cm

42. Winter Bouquet oil on board, 102 x 76 cm

43. The Rosebush oil on board, 56 x 81 cm

44. Cinderella oil on linen, 20 x 20 cm

45. The Briar Rose oil on linen, 20 x 20 cm

46. Sleeping Beauty oil on linen, 20 x 20 cm

47. Two Princesses oil on board, 40 x 40 cm

48. Anemones oil on board, 102 x 76 cm

49. Fresh Fruit oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

50. Aurora oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

51. Roses oil on linen, 20 x 20 cm

52. Posy oil on linen, 20 x 20 cm

53. Blossom oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

54. Velvet Violet oil on linen, 40 x 40 cm

55. Irises oil on board, 86 x 96 cm

Emerging from the cool woodland shade into the sunshine of a summer’s day is a familiar experience on a familiar walk. But each time it freshens the senses and creates a feeling of anticipation at what might lie ahead. Lachlan Goudie

56. New Pastures oil on board, 50 x 75.5 cm

57. Inlet gouache on board, 25 x 33 cm

58. West Bay in Summer gouache on board, 25 x 33 cm

59. Cottages by the Sea gouache on board, 35 x 51 cm

60. Summer gouache on board, 25 x 33 cm

61. Golden Cap gouache on board, 25 x 33 cm

62. On Chesil Beach gouache on board, 34 x 51 cm


As a painter I’ve always been fascinated by shipbuilding but growing up in Glasgow in the 1980s the River Clyde, which had once been the world’s pre-eminent shipbuilding centre, was a scene of industrial desolation. I was told about the glory days of ‘Clydebuilt’ naval technology, but could only dream about the great liners and warships, sketching them out on paper from my imagination. Since 2006, however, the last remaining shipyard on the upper Clyde at Govan, has bustled with activity. The old ‘Fairfield’ yard has been engaged in constructing vessels for the Royal Navy and over a period of seven years I was granted the opportunity by the owners, BAE systems, to draw and document the activity that was taking place within the gates. First came the assembly of a series of ‘Type 45’ Destroyers, and more recently it has been the construction of Britain’s new aircraft carriers, the ‘Queen Elizabeth’ and ‘Prince of Wales’, that has kept thousands of workers busy. Shipyards are extraordinary places. They are defined by a sublime sense of scale and energy; the furious and relentless pace of component panels being assembled into towering monuments of steel. There is noise, chaos and fire, there’s a visceral sense that you’re part of an industrial organism that will spit you out, unless you watch your step. One artist

in particular, experienced this thrill before me, his drawings of Fairfield’s acted as a foretaste for what I would witness during my time in the yard. Muirhead Bone arrived on the Clyde as a War artist, in October 1917. Immediately he began to capture the frenzy of naval construction in his sketchbooks. Such was the pace of his own industriousness, that he would strap the notebooks to his hand, so that he could move speedily from one scene to the next, constantly scribbling the activity that unfolded before him. When I look at his drawings, I understand his determination to relentlessly record what he saw. In an environment where things change quickly, you dare not turn your back on the subject, because when you look again it will have been completely transformed. For an artist that pace, that energy is infectious. Over the course of seven years I visited the Govan yard regularly. I spent my time filling sketchbooks with notes and studies, attempting to cram the overwhelming scale of my subject onto small sheets of paper. During that period I came to know many of the workers who took an interest in what I was doing and even painted their portraits. Many of the men and women I met over the course of my visits to Govan, had worked in the yards since they were teenagers, or had long

family associations with the River Clyde. For most the carriers represented the largest engineering project they had ever been involved with. Whilst politicians continued to trade arguments over budgets, schedules and strategy, these workers arrived each morning and, rain or shine, contributed proudly to the building of the nation’s flagship. The building of these ships was not a subject that I felt was suited to careful and precise documentation. Instead I worked with speed, trying, broadly, to convey the sense of constant activity that bustled around me. I used pen and ink to splatter sketches on large sheets of paper, studying the great coils of pipes and tubes that poured out of the ship’s hull like intestines. Sometimes I settled down for a few hours and worked in gouache. I found myself using a garish palette of limes, bright yellows, oranges and electric blues – the colours of ‘health and safety’, the colours of industry. And on those occasions when I was driven indoors by the rain or wind blowing off the river, I would return the next day to find my original subject obscured by a new compartment or a steel bulkhead, which had been added overnight. ‘This is a place in movement’ I was once told by one of the workers and a shipyard has to be. Whilst sometimes a sense of nostalgia

and romanticism attaches itself to the industry of shipbuilding, on the ground the process is ferociously unsentimental. Iconic cranes are knocked down, the environment is regularly transformed, building methods evolve and change. It was my ambition to capture the scale and frenetic energy of the modern yard, as well as chronicling the human experience of such a rapidly changing working environment. It has been, for me, an exhilarating experience. I am grateful to everyone who has helped make it possible; to those who quizzed me about what I was doing, to those who told me their stories and allowed me to sketch their portraits, to those who helped me better understand and value the awesome industrial landscape of Scotland’s shipyards. Lachlan Goudie, 2019

63. Heavy Engineering ink on paper, 100 x 150 cm

64. Leviathan pencil and chalk on paper, 68 x 51 cm

65. Dockside chalk and charcoal on paper, 64 x 52 cm

66. Fitting-out Basin pastel and chalk on paper, 52 x 68 cm

67. The Queen Elizabeth pastel and chalk on paper, 52 x 68 cm

LACHLAN GOUDIE Lachlan Goudie is an artist who exhibits regularly in London and New York. The scope of Lachlan’s work is broad, incorporating portraiture, still life and landscape painting. His canvasses have won numerous awards and in 2013 he was elected a member of the Royal Institute of Oil Painters, in London. In addition to painting, Lachlan is also a writer and Arts broadcaster. In 2015 he wrote and presented the landmark series The Story of Scottish Art for the BBC. The four episodes were critically acclaimed and Lachlan was nominated by the Royal Television Society Scotland for the ‘Onscreen personality of the year’ award. Lachlan has written and presented several other documentaries for BBC television – The Art of Witchcraft (2013), Stanley Spencer: The Colours of the Clyde (2014) and Awesome Beauty: The Art of Industrial Britain (2017). Lachlan’s most recent films Painting the Holy Land and Mackintosh: Glasgow’s Neglected Genius were broadcast on BBC1 and BBC4 in 2018. Mackintosh: Glasgow’s Neglected Genius was nominated in the best single documentary category at the Celtic Media awards, 2019. Lachlan has been a judge across three series of BBC1’s Big Painting Challenge and reprised this role on BBC1’s Celebrity Big Painting Challenge, 2018. He is also an expert presenter of BBC4’s Life Drawing Live! (2020). Lachlan regularly contributes to the BBC World Service radio programme, From Our Own Correspondent and has presented several concerts on BBC Radio 3. Lachlan’s first book, The Story of Scottish Art, was published by Thames & Hudson in September 2020. Lachlan’s writing is informed by his experience of working as an artist. He is a keen proselytiser for the value of technique and craft in contemporary art and was schooled in painting by his father, the artist Alexander Goudie. The wonder of art: its power to colour and change people’s lives fascinates Lachlan. It lies at the heart of his work as a painter, writer and broadcaster. Lachlan was born and grew up in Glasgow, Scotland, before studying English at Christ’s College, Cambridge and Fine Art at Camberwell College of Art in London.

Selected recent exhibitions 2020 Once Upon a Time, The Scottish Gallery, Edinburgh 2019 Shipyard, The Glasgow Art Club, Glasgow 2018 A Year at the Easel, The Scottish Gallery, Edinburgh Shipyard, National Museum of the Royal Navy, Portsmouth 2017 Shipyard, The Scottish Maritime Museum, Irvine 2015 New Paintings, Lachlan Goudie and Tim Benson, Mall Galleries, London A Place in the Sun, The Roger Billcliffe Gallery, Glasgow 2014 These Precious Things, The Elizabeth Harris Gallery, New York 2013 The Royal Society of Painters in Oil Colour Elected a full member ROI 2012 Still Life and the Opera, Glyndebourne, Lewes Lands of Streams and Timber, The Roger Billcliffe Gallery, Glasgow 2011 A True Wilderness Heart, The Elizabeth Harris Gallery, New York Sketch drawing prize 2011, The Rabley Drawing Centre, Marlborough The River Runs Through It, Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery, Glasgow 2010 Of the Moment, Roger Billcliffe Gallery, Glasgow 2009 Dreaming Places, The Elizabeth Harris Gallery, New York Education 2004 Camberwell College of Arts, The London Institute 1999 Christ’s College, University of Cambridge Awards The Royal Society of Painters in Oil Colour, W&N Award for Young Artists Royal Scottish Academy, The Norman MacFarlane Charitable Trust Award The Royal Glasgow Institute of Fine Arts, Royal College of Physicians Award University of Cambridge, The Levy-Plumb Scholarship in the Visual Art

ONLINE EVENTS PROGRAMME 28TH OCTOBER – 25 NOVEMBER 2020 Wednesday 28th October 2020 - 6pm Meet Lachlan Goudie by Zoom duration 30 minutes

Saturday 14th November 2020 - 11am The Story of Scottish Art & Once Upon a Time Join Lachlan Goudie as he reads excerpts from his book and reveals how The Story of Scottish Art influenced his exhibition duration 20 minutes

Wednesday 18th November 2020 - 6pm Once Upon a Time, a personal tour of the exhibition with Lachlan Goudie duration 20 minutes

Thursday 19th November 2020 - 6.30pm The Story of Scottish Art Book Launch Lachlan Goudie in conversation with James Naughtie duration 40 minutes Please find our full programme and sign up for events:

The Story of Scottish Art by Lachlan Goudie Thames & Hudson • 181 illustrations • £29.95 • signed copies available in The Gallery

The Story of Scottish Art is a page-turning narrative full of scandals and rebellions, seismic historical events and personal tragedies that inspired or destroyed artists. It is the epic story of how 5000 years of creativity defined a nation – from the earliest Neolithic symbols etched onto the landscape of Kilmartin Glen to Glasgow’s fame as a contemporary centre of artistic innovation.

Published by The Scottish Gallery to coincide with the exhibition LACHLAN GOUDIE Once Upon A Time 28 October – 25 November 2020 Exhibition can be viewed online at ISBN: 978 1 912900 24 4 Designed by Photography by the artist Printed by J Thomson Colour Printers All rights reserved. No part of this catalogue may be reproduced in any form by print, photocopy or by any other means, without the permission of the copyright holders and of the publishers.

Front cover: Fairy Tale, oil on board, 96 x 86 cm (cat. 2) Inside front cover: Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, scraperboard, 36 x 28 cm (cat. 23) Opposite: Rapunzel, scraperboard, 36 x 28 cm (cat. 24)