ART
VICTORIA CROWE
IMAGES: ©VICTORIA CROWE, COURTESY OF THE SCOTTISH GALLERY.
E LEFT: Still Point of The Turning Year, screenprint. ABOVE: Victoria Crowe. BELOW: City Evening, monotype.
Winter blues Victoria Crowe has always been drawn to northern landscapes and the liminal effects of fading light, but a residency in Orkney last year presented her with new challenges, says Mary Miers
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scottishfield.co.uk
scottishfield.co.uk
ver since Victoria Crowe captivated audiences with her exhibition A Shepherd’s Life at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery in 2000, it has been impossible not to think of her work when contemplating a frosty Borders hillside. The Royal Scottish Academician is a highly regarded portraitist and painter of meditative still lifes and interiors, but it’s her poetic studies of landscape and the natural world that are among her best known works. Particularly memorable are her winter trees – all ‘contortions, twists, frizzles of twigs’, as the Shetland poet Christine de Luca describes them in Garden Full of Snow – their elegantly patterned forms assuming an almost spiritual symbolism in her quiet, luminous compositions.
One particularly beautiful oil painting, Considered Silence, views a stand of limes or beeches through a window at dusk, bare branches traceried against a snowfield suffused in a blueish glow. What better image for the front cover of Peter Davidson’s literary study of twilight, The Last of the Light (2015)? The artist and writer admire each other’s work and the theme of Victoria’s new exhibition reflects their mutual interests. Low Winter Light, which opens at The Scottish Gallery on 30 November, includes some of her tree paintings made during the bitter days of last December and January. She views the landscape through sunlight refracted from a frost splintered window or through a tangle of branches against an orange glow. A screenprint, Border Hill, brilliantly captures the broken textures and marled blues and whites of snowpatched fields in fading light. An ancient sycamore seen against a rising moon is depicted using the combined techniques of woodblock, screenprint and lithograph. Last year, Victoria returned to another of Peter’s books, The Idea of North (2015), when she took up an artist’s residency far from her familiar territory of the Pentlands and Venice and travelled to the far northwest of Orkney. No trees on the salt-bitten grasslands of Birsay. ‘Just line, line, line and the unfolding drama of the sky... everything was on this horizontal plane. The contrast was just what I’d hoped for,’ she says, explaining how, usually, her compositions are vertical, with trees and other objects in front of the space and the sky ‘never the main event’. In this ancient, layered landscape, with its flattened planes and vast seas and skies, she relished the challenge of conveying the atmosphere and ‘sense of elemental timelessness’. She stayed in a small studio hut overlooking the sea, 97