East End

 

The neon sign of the Duke of Wellington in Spitalfields draws the eye as you cross Commercial Street. Yet even though the pub is situated on the corner of a busy road, it is a peaceful backwater, a station of calm.

 

When I moved to London in 1972, I encountered fruit and vegetable stalls outside tube stations for the first time. On a wet January morning in Leytonstone, I saw this shop across the road where the produce glowed through the gloom like a beacon, a scene enhanced by the young man sitting in front, oblivious of the cold, concerned only with his phone.

 

This is a well-known local landmark on Wanstead Flats. I have built the composition in horizontal bands to frame the silhouette of the church, just hinting at the lights of the garage on Alderbrook Road that appears in another painting in my exhibition. Set during the brief lull of twilight, the pale violet sky and a visible moon conjure a quiet moment of transition.

 

This is Woodgrange Road, Forest Gate, on a freezing February night. I was impressed by the contrast between the cold glare of the seafood market and the deep tones of the winter sky. I employed the wet pavement, reflecting the competing blue neon and LED lights, to evoke the mood of an East London street in winter.

 

A mother raises her hands encouragingly at her small child bravely tackling a ride for the first time. Three times a year, I am drawn to the bright lights of the fair on Wanstead Flats, unable to resist the temptation to bring order and permanence to the chaos and transience. Painting any fairground scene involves uniting a plethora of colours, light sources and interlocking shapes and forms that appear indistinguishable at first glance. For me, if the painting is to work, all these elements must hang together.

 

My task here was to create of a satisfying composition, encompassing the expanse of white-painted brickwork work on the right, and I sought to resolve this by placing a man seated on the wall. The warm blue and orange tones of the shop emphasise the contrast with the cool whites above and greys in the foreground.

 

Opposite these houses lies the beginning of Epping Forest in the form of Wanstead Flats. This yellow house and its companion caught my attention, while out walking one cold November evening, as a mecca of warmth and comfort just the other side of the road from the Flats.

 

Snow is rare in London with a few exceptional years, 1979 being the most notable in my memory. I have not done many paintings depicting snow, although I have always been fascinated by the transformation and magic wrought by its fall. December 2024 was exceptionally cold and the Wanstead Flats were transformed briefly into a wonderland, particularly at night – most magical just before darkness fell when the snow illuminating the Flats was balanced by the glow in the sky and the lights of surrounding houses.