Capturing the Fleeting Light: An Interview with Landscape Painter Richard Pikesley

 

Section I: The Reshaping of Perspective — Foundations of Artistic Philosophy

 

1. You often mention the concept of "seeing the world 'in paint'." It appears that for you, this is no longer merely a method of creation, but rather an internalised instinct. How did this perspective evolve from its origins in simple visual perception into such a profound and foundational artistic philosophy?

 

This does seem to have become a part of how I see the world. With both oil paint and watercolour there is a conscious or unconscious bit of visual imagination that pictures what I see in terms of touches of paint or washes of watercolour. Switching between the two media sometimes feels a bit clunky as it can take a little time to move between visualizing as impasto colour and vapourous watercolour washes,

 

2. The Awakening of Artistic Consciousness Having been immersed in plein air painting since your youth, I am particularly curious about the moment of "artistic awakening." Was there a specific turning point when you realised you were no longer merely depicting the scenery before you, but were instead beginning to deconstruct the world through the logic of brushwork, tonal temperature, and the tactile language of texture?

 

In my first year at art school I was very lucky to receive really good teaching in the rudiments of our craft. This laid down the foundation of core skills around drawing, perspective, tone and colour that a visual artist needs to understand with some fluency. I think I understood early on that making a painting had to be more than copying. Eye, brain and hand work together to produce just one of a myriad of possible images any of which would be true to the subject, so my role is to chart a course through these possibilities and end up with something which is both coherent and altogether mine.

 

3. The Negotiation of Translation: Reality vs. Canvas When you find yourself amidst the dramatic Dorset coastline or its rolling hills, how does your mind navigate the negotiation between the complexities of the "physical scene" and the simplified, structured abstraction of a "composition"? What guides your process of selection and translation during this transition?

 

A lot of this is purely practical, much of it concerned with translating the vastness of nature into the very much reduced scale of paint. A good eye for drawing is the starting point, deciding what view to select and how to place it on the canvas or paper at the correct scale.  I’m often painting contre jour looking straight into very strong light and the range of light from most brilliant down to the deepest shadow needs to be managed tactfully, often compressing tonal steps at one level to allow a more expansive approach elsewhere.

 

4. Internalising the NEAC Tradition You are widely regarded as a guardian of the British figurative tradition. In embracing the essence of the New English Art Club’s (NEAC) commitment to "dynamic observation," how have you managed to steer clear of academic rigidity? Furthermore, how have you cultivated a personal language that feels deeply rooted in tradition, yet possesses a distinctively contemporary vitality?

 

I was elected to membership of the NEAC in my first year out of art school and it took me a while to understand its roots and traditions. The group was formed in around 1885 by a group of English painters who had fallen under the spell of French Impressionism and post-impressionism. They had returned from France to find that the Royal Academy was stuck in a bit of an academic rut and unreceptive to the fresh air and new ideas that these young painters had to offer.  The NEAC has changed a lot over the years but it has kept as a core value the primacy of observation from nature and good drawing. I’ve never been very interested in academic procedures and rules and have preferred to find my own way.

 

Section II: The Practice of the Light-Catcher — Transience and Atmosphere

In your work, light and shadow are not merely cold physical phenomena; they seem more akin to the very soul of the canvas, carrying an indefinable emotional weight.

 

5. The Hunting of "Fleeting Moments"​ You possess an almost obsessive pursuit of those "fleeting moments." What kind of sensory allure does this unrepeatability hold for you? As light and shadow shift rapidly within mere minutes, how do you maintain a balance between high-intensity intuitive response and precise formal control without falling into a rigid depiction of form?

 

I’ve always enjoyed painting at moments when things change. So a landscape which may hold little interest for me comes alive when cloud shadows roll across the land revealing its undulating form. Painting such moments has its challenges, for example I need to note the distinction between a crisp shadow edge and one that is soft. In practical terms this means that I make many starts, some of which progress while others are abandoned, painting while I see the effect I want and then for a few minutes relying on visual memory or waiting for the moment to recur. The abandoned studies are an equally important part of the creative process so I feel that these must be valued for what they teach me.

 

6.  Inspiration Catalysed by Unpredictable Skies The rich "atmospheric mood" in your paintings is deeply evocative. Given the notoriously volatile British weather—where bright sun can turn to gloom in an instant—do you find this an obstacle to your creative process, or is it an essential catalyst that vitalises your brushwork?

 

Being faced with the unexpected, or the unpredictable I’m forced to really look and not rely on a stock formula. I’ll get something down simply as a starting point and then push the paint around with fingers or brushes to try to catch up with what I’m seeing. The edges of touches and marks are a driver in the way an observer will read the finished painting so these must be handled sensitively

 

7. Spiritual Metaphors within Light You favour the specific qualities of light found at dawn, dusk, or when a storm is imminent. Within your aesthetic framework, do these moments of light reflect a deeper spiritual connotation regarding life or eternity, beyond their immediate visual beauty?

 

My attachment to painting landscape at first and last light started when I was teaching and could only find brief moments to paint early or late in the day, on my commute to and from work. The experience taught me that nothing is static in the fleeting nature of light, and also that handling first and last light meant that I had to become sensitive to very fine gradations of tone  that occur in low light conditions. Such moment also reveal the bones of the landscape with all its more modern detail suppressed  Now I live surrounded by the ancient landscapes of West Dorset with its hillforts and barrows giving insights into thousands of years of human history. When I stand on Eggardon hill and watch the sun setting over the sea in the west it’s easy to feel a connection with those who have walked this way before.

 

Section III: Material and Narrative — Technical Innovation and "Watercolour Innovations"​

Lead-in:​ Your painting navigates a delicate boundary between spontaneous expression and rigorous control. Notably, within the realm of watercolour, you have demonstrated a distinctly modern and experimental spirit.

 

8. The Dialectic Balance Between Figuration and Abstraction There is a long-standing discourse within British painting regarding the concept of "finish." How do you determine that precise moment of "resolution" in your work? In what state of mind do you decide to relinquish fine detail in favour of the narrative power generated by the natural flow of pigment and the juxtaposition of colour masses?

 

This is a tough question and the honest answer is that I don’t know. I’ll often push a painting back and forth adding detail only to lose it again with broader brush strokes. I often have no idea how close I am to finishing or at least choosing to stop, but must be sensitive to the little inner voice telling me I’ve arrived. Sometimes it’s just one final touch that moves things from ‘nowhere near’ to ‘don’t do any more’.

 

9. The Essence of "Watercolour Innovations"​ The "Watercolour Innovations" you advocate have significantly pushed the boundaries of the medium. How does this approach manage to preserve the inherent transparency of watercolour while imbuing it with a sense of weight and expressive power capable of holding its own in a dialogue with contemporary conceptual art?

 

I don’t know that I am particularly innovative in the way I use watercolour. Throughout its history, the medium has been used in all sorts of ways and the current membership of the Royal Watercolour Society gloriously reflects this diversity. In my own work I don’t feel constrained to use the medium in a very ‘purist’ manner, and often make free use gouache and drawing media. For example, I love the optical effects of opaque gouache drifted into transparent washes of watercolour. Much of the teaching, and textbooks aimed at those beginning to use the medium is of very poor quality and builds an image of a sort of spurious orthodoxy which is very unhelpful. 

 

10.  Cross-Medium Intertextuality: Oil and Watercolour As a distinguished member of the RWS, oil and watercolour seem to engage in a complementary intertextuality within your practice. Do you find that the inherent "unpredictability" of watercolour aligns more closely with your understanding of the vitality of the natural world than the relative stability of oil?

 

I love both media, though sometimes the transition between them can be tricky. A different way of thinking is necessary to build a world from transparent washes rather than ‘brick by brick’ with fat, opaque oil paint. Watercolour has a seductive quality in that simply spilt on a scrap of paper it will look beautiful yet it can easily turn ugly when overworked. I can’t boss watercolour around so much, it has to be more of a partnership than when working with oils.

 

11. Retaining "Vitality" Throughout the Creative Process Your workflow typically evolves from immediate plein air sketches and refined studies to final resolution in the studio. Within this protracted process, what principles do you adhere to in order to ensure the final piece retains that original "spark of intuition" first ignited out in the wilderness?

 

Often it’s the slightest of sketches that holds the key to the quality I’m after, and that’s the one I’ll pin to my easel so I see it all the time when working towards something more ‘finished’. These rapidly made notes can have an energy that is entirely absent of something made with the luxury of time.

 

Section IV: The Destination of Intuition — The Contemporary Significance of Plein Air Painting

Lead-in:​ Despite the ubiquity of high-definition digital imagery, you remain steadfast in your commitment to the wilderness, engaging in what might be called a direct, visceral dialogue with the natural world.

 

12. Multi-Sensory "Presence"​ When standing on-site, exposed to the bracing sea winds and the baptism of shifting light, how do sensory experiences beyond the purely visual—such as sound and touch—subtly permeate your brushwork and the very materiality of your paint?

 

I’m no good at making stuff up! The conversational element of painting on the spot is the thing that lights a fire in me. It’s a three-way conversation between my eye, the view, and the emerging image and I seem to need all three elements to make it work.

 

13. The Value of Plein Air in the Digital Era In an age increasingly dominated by screens and digital synthesis, what do you consider to be the fundamental significance of the artist's physical "presence" in the field? Furthermore, amidst today’s deluge of fast-paced imagery, do you believe figurative painting still possesses an irreplaceable capacity for spiritual restoration?

 

In a world that’s racing headlong to embrace the digital and artificial intelligence there’s never been a more important moment to celebrate the humanity of hand, eye and brain making an image.

 

Section V: Leadership and Heritage — Future Visions of Figurative Art

Lead-in:​ Beyond your remarkable output as a creator, you have also carried the significant responsibility of serving as President of the NEAC, contributing extensively to both art education and theoretical discourse.

 

14. Reflections on the Institutional Role Reflecting on your tenure as President of the NEAC, how did that experience—offering as it did a panoramic view of the contemporary art ecosystem—inspire or perhaps even reshape your own creative trajectory?

 

It was five immersive years and a great privilege to lead the NEAC. It taught me that artists can have shared belief in the value of such things as drawing, observation and the craft of painting, and yet be really diverse and energized in their individual creative responses.

 

15. Imparting the Core Philosophy in Teaching In your recent publication, what is the quintessential message you wish to impart to the next generation of artists? Do you agree that cultivating an "artist’s way of seeing" is far more foundational than the mastery of any specific technical flourish?

 

I think, for me, painting has to be a continuous process of seeing and making, out of which, now and again, something emerges that can be put in a frame as one element in a body of work. All of this activity is important to me though much of it is invisible to the person visiting my exhibition.  I don’t like flashy paint, every gesture is a question rather than an answer, so I rarely anticipate the final touch coming. It just needs to be the same sort of touch or adjustment as all the previous ones, making a final heroic flourish an absurdity.

 

16. Self-Doubt and Breakthroughs over a Lifelong Career Looking back across a career spanning more than five decades, and amidst the ever-shifting tides of artistic fashion, have you encountered periods of creative stagnation or self-doubt? What is it that allows you to maintain such a "first-love" intensity of passion and curiosity for the nuances of light and nature?

 

A degree of self-doubt has been with me all the time, but as I get older I’m also less bothered about what others think of what I do. I taught art in schools for a few years before I was able to support myself and my family as a professional painter. The experience of teaching was great for consolidating my approach to painting and making me test what I really thought – I had to get it clear in my own head before any useful teaching could happen.