Henrietta Dubrey

Artist's introductory essays to exhibitions 2012-18


1. Genius Loci: A painterly response by Henrietta Dubrey to works by Peter Lanyon

Sarah Wiseman Gallery  Oxford  8 September - 6 October 2018


‘I called today, Peter, and you were away.
I look out over Botallack and over Ding
Dong and Levant and over the jasper sea.

Find me a thermal to speak and soar to you from
Over Lanyon quoit…’

‘You said once in the Engine
House below Morvah
That words make their world
In the same way as the painter’s
Mark surprises him
Into seeing new.’

Excerpts from the poem The Thermal Stair For the painter Peter Lanyon killed in a gliding accident 1964 by WS Graham. (1)

This year sees the centenary of the birth of Peter Lanyon and a wonderful catalogue raisonné has been published by Modern Art Press. As I pored over the saturated abstract glossy images I became excited by the possibility of creating, in my own painting language, a series of paintings based upon my experience of living and working in the particular place that so many of Lanyon’s iconic images depict.

When Lanyon was 33 years old, post active service in the war, he set about making a series of work about the St Just district. He felt he had a physical and emotional connection, having been born here. He upheld the opinion that painting was an adaptable and rich genre, well equipped to express a modern understanding of life and our experience of being in the world, as well as a superb vehicle for emotional expression. These paintings included ‘St Just’, ‘Green Mile’ and ‘Bojewyan Farms’, all of which I am reminded of as I walk on the moors above my house, and up or down Kenython Lane, with 180 degree views of the sea, recalling his words, “…I find the sky on my back as I climb the hills and the sea behind me, then at my side and it becomes the same thing in my painting…”. (2)

Having moved to Cornwall and more specifically West Penwith in 2000 after spending five years in Normandy in France, living, painting and raising a young family, it was west Cornwall in all its rugged and remote beauty where I felt newly at home. One of the main reasons I chose to live here was a somewhat romantic notion and artistic connection I felt with the area from a very young age. Family holidays in St Ives, the freedom to wander around the town, sketchbook in hand; Back Road West, the harbour, the Island, the beaches and the views over Porthmeor from the Piazza flats left a lasting impression, and to explore all this in the context of an exhibition of my ‘now’ home, proved very exciting. I was already a big fan of the mid generation artists associated with St Ives and its surrounding area during the post war period. Painters such as Roger Hilton, Terry Frost, Patrick Heron, Bryan Wynter and Sandra Blow were at the forefront of my inspiration. Peter Lanyon, the most Cornish of all of these, seemed more particularly connected to the immediate landscape, abstracting it in a wonderfully expressive and gestural manner. His compositions summed up the raw earthiness of his native land, its history and contours inhabiting his paintings like a ‘genius loci’ or spirit of a place. Hence the title for my solo exhibition 'Genius Loci: A painterly response by Henrietta Dubrey to works by Peter Lanyon’.

Peter Lanyon painted mainly landscapes that veered toward abstraction. He reappraised modernism in painting by combining abstract values with radical ideas about landscape and the figure. As Patrick Heron remarked in his book Painter As Critic, from 1950 onwards Lanyon was painting ‘like an American Abstract Expressionist’ (3), long before making acquaintance with them in 1957 in New York, although he had seen paintings by De Kooning and Pollock in Venice in 1950.

The landscape here is wild and sparse, full of sky, field, granite, moor, cliff and sea. I have sought not to copy, not to slavishly sketch and paint in situ, but to let a general feeling of Lanyon’s oeuvre seep into my consciousness while I’m painting, so that by observing his paintings and techniques rather than necessarily the landscape itself, I have aimed to achieve my own response to the landscape I have lived within for the past 18 years. The majestic hillside opposite my house and studio, its ancient paths and granite boulder hedges dissecting the fields, making abstract shapes and patterns. The prehistoric standing stones and circles, rocky outcrops such as Carn Kenidjack, the purple foxgloves, yellow gorse, pink campion, cow parsley, hawthorn; the history of the Tinners Way and the mining industry, the old workings scattered along the cliff tops, is all here and becomes engrained into one’s own personal history. The lichen covered hedges (ancient granite walls), reflect the light, making them feel weightless yet obviously completely solid, heavy against vast expanses of sky and ocean. In Lanyon’s ‘Boulder Coast’ his colours and shapes oozing paint summon up the dry stone walls and granite boulders, the wet grass and slithery mud of the farms of Penwith. This is the landscape that Lanyon painted, and it seems fundamentally that not much has changed. I’m sure even the hamlets he was preoccupied with, situated along the north coast road between St Just and St Ives of which he made a map, specifically the four-and-a-half mile stretch between Bojewyan and St Just on which he indicated where paintings had been painted along the way, would be recognisable if he were to pass by today.

In a letter to the art critic John Dalton c. 1952 describing his preoccupation with this stretch of land he writes, “The place Botallack is the village of the mine and the mine drops away down the face of the cliff from the village and all the back windows are tall and thin and the gates black and the grass as you could imagine is weeping with wet greenness.” (4) Chromium oxide green and blue, grass, sea and sky, white to light, black straight lines, shafts and tunnels and dark squares. The mine at Botallack was partly built in to the cliff face and ran for more than half a mile under the sea bed. The spectacular workings were a tourist attraction in their time and remain so, especially with the BBC dramatisation of Poldark!

When I walk from Botallack to Levant I witness blue skies, white clouds, umber puddles, reflections. These I recorded in a series of photographs taken on the sixth of March of this year, some of which are reproduced in my exhibition catalogue. Local walks take in iconic places full of history; Cape Cornwall, Zennor, Clodgy Point, Gurnards Head (where I dreamt of getting married in a black ethnic dress from Liberty, and ermine, on a crisp February day), these sites full of rusty bracken covered moors, chimneys and ancient history.

Mark making and palette are important aspects of any painting. Lanyon painted big, dramatic canvases impetuously and with full arm brush strokes. He made quick paintings using notational systems of dabs, squiggles, drips and lines, not necessarily recording the appearance of a location, but rather through spatial order, rhythm and repetition representing a feeling of place. He also employed sgraffito, scribbling and rubbing which seems highly appropriate to this wild land and its often windy or misty climate. ‘I believe it is in the bare places like West Cornwall (where I was born) that many artists will find an answer for their times.’ He made this statement in the magazine ‘Meta’ in 1951 in relation to his painting ‘Cape Family’ (1949) depicting a family group who live at the edge of the sea on a cliff at the Cape, ‘granite rock, bones, and no trees – Cornwall’ (5). In direct response to Lanyon’s family group my painting ‘Cape Couple’ is a self portrait of how it feels to live out on a limb in such a remote area, evoking such emotions such as isolation, loneliness, exposure to the elements, but also how space and time lends itself to creating a conducive working environment, where one can discover, build and breathe freely and creatively. The figures in Lanyon’s and my paintings are assembled of elements of the place itself, symbolically sexualized in a procreative landscape.  Lanyon's ‘Western Family’ 1949 is another post-war work where his unusual depiction of faces and bodies can be observed.

All this and much more; reading about Lanyon, living in this location, imbues itself upon the soul. I live here specifically because of my passion for the St Ives mid generation artists, I feel very lucky to have Tate St Ives on my doorstep where examples of these artists’ work can be seen first hand. Lanyon’s oil on canvas ‘St Just’, surely one of his most iconic paintings is currently on display. This large vertical painting has a dominant central image, an elongated Y shape, representing the martyrdom of the local miners. During its long execution, 1951-53, he referred to it as ‘Crucifixion’. It has also been noted that this central Y is vaginal in nature, scribbled black lines in the crux interpreted like pubic hair; however, the true form of this painting refers to the mining disaster at Levant in 1919. An entire essay could be written here; I will leave that to the experts! My response to his St Just is my ‘Saint Just’, the town personified in an abstracted figure, (which brings to mind the joyful, naive figures in Roger Hilton’s ‘Oi Yoi Yoi’ series), the limbs of which map out the roads, radiating from the Plen an Gwarry, an historic open green arena at the heart of the town.

As I embarked on my journey I was fortunate to see the Lanyon exhibition at Hazlitt Holland-Hibbert gallery in London 'Cornwall Inside Out’ in March 2018. Looking at the paintings in the flesh really brought the reality of my task to light. I absorbed the colours and textures he used to describe the earth, the sea, the rocks, the moors; the proportion of the supports he used, unusual shapes, tall and narrow, vertical, adding physical description to their subject. ‘I paint very thin, tall vertical paintings sometimes because I am fond of climbing cliffs, and I find them very tall and thin,’ he said (6), so it became not just visual but relating to a physical experience. In this exhibition I could see he was painting ‘home’, his native country, in a personal and instinctive way. I observed his choice of frames and his open gestural mark making. Lanyon considered himself quintessentially Cornish, his social antennae ‘tuned in’ to the quasi-ethnic chasm separating natives and incomers. How would he have taken to me?

‘To understand how the space between tide-line and cliff edge or between the land and sea horizons was constructed, you had to immerse yourself in the experience.' (7) He learnt this from his first teacher Borlase Smart, reminding me of how Turner lashed himself to the mast of a ship in a wild storm. In 1952 he wrote to Paul Feiler, ‘I paint places but always with the Placeness of them.' (8)

Many of the paintings I have created share titles with Lanyon paintings. I have taken this liberty as a way of creating a dialogue. There was something in each of these shared works that I found made a connection, imbuing a feeling or an emotional response. I needed to discover the language of Lanyon; I was attracted to the paintings with red and blue. Bright abstracts like ‘Two Close’ which I saw in London, brought about my early attempt at using free, fast brushstrokes and blocks of colour. My ‘Two Close’ is also about juxtaposition, a pairing of two forms, a theme that recurs in many of Lanyon’s paintings.

There are six large abstracts, all of which have a Lanyonesque element. ‘Genius Loci’, ‘Silent Coast’ and ‘Green Mile’ all carry the large arm gesture and mark making; land and sky fuse together forming a bird’s eye view of sea and earth bonding together, a fusion of natural forces describing a wild untamed land. In some of Lanyon’s paintings he can be seen to eroticise the post industrial landscape. He envisaged the male sea and the female land in perpetual tidal intercourse. ‘Levant’ has a more industrial feel, wintry and exposed, the hard structural element rising up, reminiscent of the structures i.e., headgear, dotted all along the coast reminding one of the strong mining industry that would have made this area unrecognisable to us these days. The sheer number of people that must have populated these cliffs is unimaginable.

The five medium sized vertical paintings follow suit, bold shapes, meanderings through Lanyon’s language and the question arising in ‘Landfall (Icarus)' as to whether I myself was flying too close to the sun? Had I bitten off more than I could chew in responding in a rather light hearted and free spirited way to Lanyon’s serious and much acclaimed portraits of Cornwall?

I take a step back with a small nude, frolicking on the bracken covered moorland, metaphorically swimming in Lanyon. This painting leads me to look at the series of paintings Lanyon made of his muse Susan Hunt, a student at Bath Academy of Art in Corsham with whom he had a relationship from 1955 to 1959; loosely painted figures describing the movement of a girl rolling over, and also ‘Beach Girl’ 1961 which he said was really a picture about blonde girls on sandy beaches! (9)

A note about red. Terry Frost once was asked, ‘Where’s the red in Cornwall?’ It appears as a sudden and surprising accent whenever one does come across it. Lanyon seemed to use it to describe flight paths or journeys, lines mapped out in his mind describing gliding trips. I have not been tempted to try gliding, the nearest I get is in ‘Midsummer, Near Cloud’ which has a line which mimics Lanyon’s in his painting of the same name. In mine I am describing the sea frets, wispy haze, and balmy rose-tinted evening sunlight. In his painting, also painted in June, but of 1964, a bold composition is described using a variation of shapes, line and tone, with dynamic red and grey lines dancing across the surface, sweeping and spiralling, the energy singing out in the reloaded brush strokes. I also use red in ‘Rising Air’ creating a device through which one can mentally travel through and beyond; through the loop, a gateway to the West.  The inspiration for the red line in this painting came from a collaged card which Peter Lanyon made for Gimpel Fils, which features a cut-out photograph of Peter Lanyon sitting in a crudely drawn red cockpit. It also shares a similar palette to Lanyon’s ‘Rising Air’ with reds, rusts, pale greens, blues and whites.

Alongside several small paintings sits my ‘Self Portrait as a Construction’. Lanyon started making constructions in 1939 when he was working in Gabo’s studio in Carbis Bay. These were quite painterly in structure. Lanyon wrote (letter, 6 September 1958) of his constructions that ‘they were not complete things in themselves but as experiments in space to establish the illusion and the content of space in painting’. (10) My painting is an almost mechanical response to looking at this oeuvre. Elements built themselves, compartmentalising different aspects of character and form, becoming human-like.

Several small works on paper will accompany this exhibition. I like the direct and spontaneous nature of working on paper in different mediums and it is another way for me to explore my dialogue with Lanyon, his etchings and collages etc.

I know I will continue to be inspired by Lanyon’s paintings. They have become synonymous with my experience of living and working in this elemental environment of West Penwith, and I hope these paintings evoke in my audience a sense of the ‘genius loci’.

Henrietta Dubrey
July 2018




1  W S Graham Collected Poems, 1942-1977 Faber & Faber 1979
2  Letter to Roland Bowden, 20 April 1952  Tate Gallery Archive TGA 942.1
3  Painter as Critic  Patrick Heron: Selected writings  Tate Gallery Publishing 1998 p160
4  Letter to the art critic John Dalton c. 1952  Lanyon family archive
5  Abridged letter to German artist Karl Otto Götz published in the March 1951 issue of Meta
6  From an undated note in the Lanyon family archive
7 Michael Bird  The St Ives Artists  A Biography of Place and Time   Lund Humphries  Second edition 2016
8 Letter from Peter Lanyon to Paul Feiler c. 1952; quoted in Peter Lanyon: Air, Land and Sea (exhibition catalogue Camden Arts Centre and touring 1992-3 p67)
9 British Council 1963, recorded talk
10 Quote from Tate website regarding Lanyon’s ‘Construction 1947’ Tate ref. T01496 www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/lanyon-construction-t01496


Further reading


Toby Treves  Peter Lanyon Catalogue Raisonné of the Oil Paintings and Three-Dimensional Works  Modern Art Press  2018


2. NUDE Solo exhibition at Edgar Modern Bath 17-31 March 2018

Nudity has always held a fascination for me. As a child growing up in the 60’s and 70’s it seemed perfectly natural to see naked bodies. Perhaps I was lucky enough to be reared in a fairly liberal minded family where things like topless sunbathing was the norm. That all seems rather idyllic nowadays. With the advent of the mobile phone and the consequent plethora of visual information so readily available (and sharable) and subject to misuse, everything has become shrouded in taboo. I find myself dreaming of those lazy afternoons, spent reading a book in the long grass, visiting friends and swimming in wild abandon in their open-air pool, liberated enough to be comfortable being naked amongst different generations, and obviously oblivious to the current threat of being caught on camera. It was certainly an education and I’m glad that my formative years were thus unencumbered. As I became a young woman I was able to explore the wonders of the developing body through drawing, and many studies of rather gawky females adorned my sketchbook. The occasional weekend visits to family friends who were artists, confirmed in my mind that it was quite okay, and quite exciting, to have bold images of nude women adorning the walls. It was all food for thought in my burgeoning creative young mind.

I remember the thrill of my first life drawing experience. As A Level art students we had access to a fully nude life model, tucked away in a top floor room of a nearby house. It felt like I had been inducted into adult life, much like passing your driving test or losing your virginity; one where we could take the body seriously and explore it as an art form.

The nude is an archetypal subject and one that artists have used for millennia. Some of the earliest forms we know are the small fertility sculptures such as the Venus de Willendorf, estimated to have been made between 28,000 and 25,000 BCE. These depictions of women’s bodies ooze female sexuality and abundance in the accentuation their womanly curves. The nude is a time-honoured tradition, often allegorical in subject, as in the great paintings of Titian, Rubens and Renoir. Renditions of the nude often describe what is thought to be about 'beauty' and this particular aspect has become a phenomenon in our modern culture and a recurring theme in films, photography, fashion and magazines. The body’s desirability is under constant consideration and scrutiny.

At the Royal Academy Schools we were required to spend at least one day a week in the life room. Beneath a plaster cast of the famous Anatomical Crucifixion of 1801 of a flayed man we made careful, detailed studies in a formal and structured environment.

Music as well as visual stimulation is as important to me in providing inspiration. The concept of calling this exhibition ‘Nude’ came to me last summer as I sat comfortably ensconced at home, watching a mesmeric set by Radiohead performing at Glastonbury festival. Thom Yorke’s rendition of their song ‘Nude’ resonated deep and sowed a seed which grew and grew with subsequent repeated listening. I couldn’t get the song out of my head, the sensual, raw, simple lyrics fed into the studio and in to my paintings. The struggle to create, the frustration of trying to create something, a fleeting sense of something which you can’t seem to grasp immediately, and yet you keep trying to create, starting from scratch again and again, cautioning yourself not to overreach; the words in the song drummed into me, soft and intimate, as the large abstract paintings ‘Blush’ and ’Sensual' came about.

I wanted to create a body of work which would hang together and create a dialogue about painting the nude today. There are no male nudes in this series of paintings. I wanted the paintings to talk about beauty, softness, physical and emotional vulnerability and provide a stripped away honest expression of what it feels like to 'live' in a woman’s body, how it feels to be exposed, free, sensual, erotic, alive. By abstracting elements, accentuating curves, experimentation and expression have informed my paintings. I wanted to celebrate my own body, from its tender beginnings, free of hang-ups and issues in its youth, giving myself permission to create emotionally honest and truthful autobiographical work. I also wanted to include as a contrast some purely abstract pieces, hence ‘Song’, ‘Subtle Touch’, ‘Wild Abandon’, ’Fusion’, ‘Lin’, ‘Home' and ‘Southern Court’ join the mix, inspiration for these coming directly from the figurative work.

These paintings are personal. They are naked, nude, exposed, rude, pink, fleshy, secret. The pleasurable comfort of the feminine palette, rendering flesh and personality in to each subject, made them compelling to work on. I could explore texture, line, tonality within their various physiques. Positive attributes of plump yielding flesh fed my imagination; rounded forms of breast, belly and thigh described procreative power, creativity, their languorous, rolling, lolling weight building strong imagery. Authentic qualities of femininity sprung forth. I was looking at other painters and photographers that have extensively used this same universal subject as a means to an end. Amongst others I looked at Matisse, Lucien Freud, Balthus, Rodin, Louise Bourgeois, John Currin, Marlene Dumas, Carol Rama, Celia Hempton, Irving Penn, Lee Friedlander, Wolfgang Tillmans, Juergen Teller, the list goes on, and all have used the nude in different and totally original ways.

Nudes can be bold, as in Jenny Saville's large scale autobiographical drawings and paintings. They can be fictional, tell stories. Think of Bonnard’s studies of his wife washing herself in her bath, her neurosis captured for eternity in shimmering pastel oil paint. Picasso’s monstrous women, sensual women, beautiful creatures. De Kooning’s possibly misogynistic series of depictions of women inspired by looking at huge billboards of overblown, idealised, glorified, shiny women with their ruby red lips and buxom busts. From William Scott’s stylised and simplified line drawings of the women in his life to Francis Bacon’s gritty and often violent renditions of his models and lovers, their flesh described in paint like lumps of raw meat, to Sarah Lucas’s more abstract creations using fluff stuffed tights to describe her bodies in a series of ‘Nuds’ which are uncannily human and 'quite sexy’ and referential to the sculptures of Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth.

This is a subject I’m sure that I will continue explore as I mature as a woman and as an artist. The scope is as large as each individual. I will always be fascinated by the variety which nature provides and hope that we as a society can continue to celebrate what is surely the most wonderful creation, the naked body, NUDE.

Henrietta Dubrey
February 2018


3. James Worrall Gallery  Marylebone  London  March 2018

A selection of paintings from 2002 to 2014

It has been interesting for me to choose a selection of paintings from my archive, and to realise that over the course of my artistic career a language has gradually developed. A consistency of mark making, risk-taking and obvious influences is apparent and reassures me that there is an overall confidence in the paintings exhibited here.

I have consciously chosen a group of paintings which I feel complement each other in palette and compositional style, ranging from small glazed works to large abstract statements.

Painterly inspiration presents itself with references most strongly connected to the “middle generation” St Ives artists such as Roger Hilton and Terry Frost. But my style has reached beyond this, towards Abstract Expressionism, with the drips and daubs and sweeping gestural marks, for example dashes of red on neutral grounds.

Abstract in subject matter, these paintings all display autobiographical references. In 2000 I returned to England after five years of living in Normandy, France. Having grown up in Sussex, I decided to move to West Penwith in Cornwall. Many a childhood holiday had been spent in St Ives, mainly during the winter months, when the light and feeling of space are at their most dramatic. These holidays, full of sketching and painting, wild walks and studio visits, made a strong impression on me and formed the beginning of my fascination with the artists so closely associated with this place.


 'Bay' 2003           'Kenidjack' 2011

In 'Bay' the rich earth colours of the strong stripes across the surface add dimension to the watery harbour landscape suggested behind, bringing the nature of the surrounding moors and granite outcrops together with the sea and the special translucent light that engulfs the town. These same references can be seen in 'Kenidjack', the earthy tones of the pigment redolent of the landscape surrounding my studio near St Just.


 'Track' 2006

'Track' is a painting which I made around the time I discovered the International Musicians Seminar held at Prussia Cove each year. A series of classical concerts are held in local churches twice a year by renowned maestri and their students, with the opportunity to sit in on the masterclasses and rehearsals in wonderfully secluded and rugged surroundings. I liken the shapes in this painting to the ritual of walking down the coastal path to discover new musical delights at the bottom of the track.


  'Maure' 2006

The South of France is another favourite destination and in 'Maure' the curvy circuitous line suggests the scenic cork oak tree lined roads over the mountains to St Tropez and beyond.

The circle is a recurring theme in my paintings, as are the colours black, white and red. I associate these abstract shapes and colours with so many things that they become metaphors for ideas and provide poetic license for my thoughts. Titles often emerge after a painting is completed, at which point I will realise that something I have been reading, looking at or feeling, has fed into my work. For this reason I feel all the work, abstract as it is by nature, to be autobiographical deconstructions and reconstructions of life.

Henrietta Dubrey
January 2018



4. MUSE  Solo exhibition at Edgar Modern Bath  March 2017

I was hoping that the plethora of information accumulated by way of reading books and magazines about people at the top of their game (writers, singers, painters, designers, film producers) over the past year was going to inspire and provide the ultimate muse to ignite a new, invigorated passion for painting, not solely the figure but my abstract oeuvre as well. Muse was to be an overall, generic title for the actual process of inspiration, action and deliverance.

I could have imagined this exhibition as a classic series of paintings loosely based around the nine Greek goddesses, daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who preside over the Arts and Sciences. Or it could have been an exhibition based on one particular person or force who provided me with a source of inspiration, real or imaginary, made up or copied from the page of a magazine. As so often happens with an idea, neither of the scenarios realised themselves or came to obvious fruition.

The idea of my muse, having now painted the show, is a far looser construct; my muse is my inspiration. Inspiration is what drives my creative force. Inspiration is my muse, and it is the searching and waiting, the looking and longing for that magic moment that is crucial in the making of a successful painting.

So the paintings represented in my exhibition are a culmination of the last six or so months, and as such, form an autobiographical sketch of my life as a whole over this period. When painting with an automatist influence, my muse is realised in sometimes strange ways, presenting compositions which when deciphered seem to sum up a situation or emotion that I wouldn't have been able to describe more eloquently in another language.

The act of painting itself decodes the subconscious, like dreams constantly deconstructing and reconstructing, feeding on different influences, working on the plethora of information one is constantly processing. The show has in fact turned out to be mainly abstract in nature. The paintings have arrived from the broad range of my psyche to reveal their story, which is in turn my story.

A lot has happened in my life in the past year. I have reached my mid-century, my children have left home and I find myself coming to terms with a new sense of freedom as my empty nest in deepest west Cornwall opens out into areas of opportunity in these uncertain times. Inter family relations, ageing parents, and the vagaries of the modern world, all a demanding distraction, diverting one away from creative thought. However the work must go on and I find I can relate to the author Paul Auster writing about why he is compelled to write. ‘But there remains the "hunger to write", he insists, "to keep doing it", even if the good sentences refuse to come. The "excitement, the struggle, is emboldening and vivifying. I just feel more alive writing." ‘ Likewise for me, the desire to paint.

And so too, as Raoul de Keyser said, I find, "most precious to me are the unforeseen things that occur when I am working." As well as painting I find myself composing small poems as another way of trying to articulate how I feel:



Just in that space between
sleep and awake…
I remember how clearly your
lips expressed
what you wanted to say.
Now, it is all a muddle.
Inspiration, time, muse,
searching for
the answer to all the
Woman, wife, mother, lover

Boxing Day 2016


'Expansive Blue' is one of those paintings that I consider to be rather hedonistic in nature. It started with me looking at interviews and films on David Hockney and being drawn into his swimming pool paintings, with their clear blues and dancing yellow sunlit ripples. Then I found myself looking at Ed Ruscha’s series of photographs of nine swimming pools (1968), a paean to the beauty of the well-appointed Southern Californian patio and the blank white page. Happy childhood memories of swimming in friends’ swimming pools, relaxed and carefree days, flooded the canvas. The expanse of blue has a delineated white abstract square which attempts to capture the vast space within.

As a counterpoint to 'Expansive Blue', 'Elegy' is the same size canvas and it is the first painting that I tackled after the recent death of my father. Reflection and memory are described in this poetic lament. The dark black shapes, inspired by a recent visit to the Abstract Expressionism exhibition and by generally revisiting those painters on display at the Royal Academy, and seeing the Robert Motherwells at Bernard Jacobson, engulf the paler hues and raw canvas tones highlighted by sky blue, pinks and a dash of vibrant red creating a soaring, uplifting heart in the midst of the multitude of emotion that surrounds the loss of a parent. It was painted in one session, an immediate response, the gestural nature of the brush strokes describing a depth of feeling which includes elements of grief and joy. Its sidekick comes by way of 'Edburton Hill', a much smaller canvas, and coincidentally painted over a former painting called ‘Crossing’, proving an appropriate ground for the ensuing subject matter. I can quite clearly visualise the steep slope of the Downs above the tiny churchyard. A thin covering of snow, the black cattle near the top of the hill, the cool blue light of the sun on a beautiful winters day, the freshly dug stony pile in readiness for the return of the of the body to the earth. 'After Hours' could be an abstracted moonlit landscape, with light dancing and creating shadows on obscured thoughts.

Through all this the woman in me persisted in relentlessly cataloguing the meaning, wonder and familiarity of everyday life.

I've always been attracted to circles in painting. Terry Frost achieved pure 'joie de vivre' in his renditions of circles which suggested suns, moons and sensuous forms. It is a shape that I return to again and again when creating a painting. For Kenneth Noland (American painter 1924–2010) the circle was a means to explore colour; his were like orbs or symbolic solar systems and were definitely not to be read as targets.

I was flicking through Purple Fashion magazine and came across an article which struck a visual chord. The photography was by Jack Davison and the styling by Vanessa Reid. The photographs flew from the page and were direct and abstract, with the model’s body and clothes fusing beautifully with the gestural abstract circular brushstrokes of black paint.

I started ‘Female Instinct’, my mind again visiting the American Abstract Expressionists, then back to Newlyn and to Frost and his uninhibited mark making. My take on the circle began to emerge. The softest of pinks at the centre contrasting so strongly with the thick unruly but powerful black of the inner circle. Paler still the next circle. The thin red line, the drips and the seemingly random small dots, circles themselves, providing accent and charm to the overall composition, an extra flourish, a ‘je ne sais quoi’. These details are all important, sitting poignantly on the contrasting yellow surround which in itself suggests the female instinct to keep everything positive. As a device, I see the circle as encompassing, wholesome, satisfying and complete, containing love and kindness.

This led on to 'Nurture' and another, more figurative painting. This is a common way I work; simultaneously working on abstract and figurative subject matter. An archetypal couple are depicted on a domestic stage, cubist devices employed to display their formality. At short notice their youngest child, although fledged, expresses a need, a desire to experience once again that nurture and warmth provided by the parent. The pale shape envelops the child like a thick duvet as she nestles within the womb-like security of the home. The subject matter itself is indicative of a female perspective; the desire to protect ever present.

Along came 'Maman'. This woman, appearing in paint, was how I felt it felt to be me during this moment in time. The mother, the lover, the provider, the listener, sometimes not knowing which way to turn and constantly addressing the battle women have with body image. The abstracted basin of water, a domestic reminder to bathe the wounded and keep purity of thought. I had visited an inspirational exhibition of Louise Bourgeois drawings and sculptures at Hauser and Wirth in Somerset. Somehow their being displayed in this beautiful rural setting was doubly powerful and truly awe inspiring, the ‘multiple breast’ works were deceptively simple and so strongly feminine, and ultimately made their influence known to me in various studies and in the final image of this painting.

In the meantime the bare bones and exposure one sometimes feels as an artist presented themselves in 'Plan', which can be read equally as figurative or abstract. The inner workings are compartmentalised within an overall structure all contained within a soft warm grey ground. This is complemented by the somewhat diagrammatic composition of 'Rock', inspired in turn by some of Howard Hodgkin’s paintings from the fifties and sixties. The bold colours help to describe the autobiographical abstraction of two figures, male and female, keeping each other propped up through thick and thin, they are as one but remain individuals, each with their own character.

'Review', 'Poster', 'Ne Plus Ultra' and 'In Roads' fall into a similar category to each other. The soft, female, feminine, nurturing pink shapes in 'In Roads', reach out on a neutral background, only to be confronted and judged by darker shapes intruding, not as a negative force, but as an omnipresence demanding a certain space. It is about human and inhuman inter personal relationships. The red stripe pushing up from the bottom signifying a vital life force in the ongoing conversation. This vibrant red makes its way into 'Ne Plus Ultra' as a positive block of colour, again in a neutral landscape but with definite feminine attributes embellishing the underbelly of the form. It reveals both softness and strength. The rather manic busyness of 'Review' is underpinned by two abstracted figures, perhaps in the throes of performing some kind of dance. The dance of life, or a release from all the decision making thrown at one every day? 'Poster' exudes its powerful confidence, a banner for all to see, like hanging your washing out in public, its strength and forthrightness advocates positivity.

The three tiny paintings ‘Prima’, ‘Secundo’ and ‘Palm Olive’, depicting single female figures, are a primal response to femininity. They are made up of the bare essentials, attributes we should be proud of. Buttocks, hips, breasts, lips, tummies, nipples, pudenda should all be celebrated whatever shape or size.

This leaves my 'women', my archetypal muses. ' Olympia' strives to be an athletic, very defined figure. She has worked hard and is proud of her body and, metaphorically speaking, would therefore like to show it off. She is a fully functional sexual being and is not afraid of her status. 'Madre' on the other hand, is more demure, she has an open face and an engaging outlook. She is stylish yet understated, confident in her own skin. She reaches out. An adolescent 'Molly' contrastingly stands before us, naked and innocently vulnerable, her newly formed adult body making its debut. She is wildly independent, young, intelligent and honest. She is just beginning to make her own story. With her knowing gaze 'Muse' reminds me of an independent young entrepreneur. In particular she has something about her that tells me she knows what she thinks and where she is heading. She is going to make a difference in this world advocating culture and literacy as the way forward.

All this amid a world in turmoil. 'Flux' aims to smooth and comfort. The opposing red forces protrude towards each other, reaching out to make some sort of meaningful contact. The blue is like a tranquil lake slipping past; the concentric circles on the left of the canvas like a small whirlpool or an ear listening into the conversation.

Like a full stop 'Cruz' punctuates the end of the show. Literally the crux, the culmination of hard, tense and heart wrenching communication; a defiant figure, martyr like, stands her ground in an acrid yellow space. Strong black circles hover and protect her. Her character feels raw, reduced to the bare bones, she comes through stronger and clearer thinking.

And so, to end on a positive note, 'Sweet Success' is all we really need. We are all searching for the means and freedom to express ourselves, and the amorphous pale shape in this painting floats above a choice of paths, roads that could lead to anywhere.

Henrietta Dubrey
February 2017


5. Sarah Wiseman Gallery. 'Identities' 4th to 25th March 2017

1. Can you describe a typical day in the studio?

I am sure that it is every artist’s dream to spend as much time as possible in their studio. The studio is a sanctuary, a place I come to, to try to escape the ordinariness and mundanity of everyday tasks and the outside world and its news that can so easily invade one’s creative space. It is not always the case, but at the moment I like to work in complete silence. I will start the day by making sure that there is as little distraction by way of paperwork on my desk and that not too many paintings are visible all at once. I tend to work on quite a few paintings at a time, and they will quite often be both abstract and figurative in nature. I will have my sketchbooks and other inspiration in the form of magazines and artist’s books on hand so that I can maintain a train of thought throughout each painting. Once I have started painting I can become fully absorbed in the actual action of applying paint and can begin to let the composition start a dialogue with me. I like to work by natural daylight if possible, so that most of my actual painting time is done during the day, followed by reading as much as possible at night.

2. Which artists do you identify with most?

I am constantly looking at other artists’ work by both men and women, but it occurs to me that there are so many female artists that have inspired me over the years. These include Kate Nicholson, Joan Eardley, Mary Fedden, Gillian Ayres, Barbara Hepworth, Louise Bourgeois, Joan Mitchell, Eva Hesse, Frida Kahlo, Sandra Blow, Jenny Saville, Prunella Clough, Chantal Joffe, Marlene Dumas, Alice Neel, Amy Sillman, Sarah Lucas, Maria Lassnig, in fact the list could go on; Helen Frankenthaler, Etel Adnan, Ruth Kligman, Lee Krasner… I also admire a lot of female photographers; Corinne Day, Diane Arbus, Sally Mann and Harley Weir.
The remarkable drive and presence of these female artists in their predominantly male-driven environments highlights their resilience and single-minded approach to making the art which was important to them, and that now we can enjoy as documents of their time as seen from the female perspective. These artists have all been important to me, providing inspiration for both my abstract and figurative genres.

3. When did you decide that you wanted to paint?

From a very early age I knew that I wanted to be an artist. My father was an architect and a fine painter himself. He encouraged me as a young child to draw and paint in an uninhibited way. Being surrounded by paintings my parents had collected and visiting artists houses was a tremendous influence. I can remember being quite obsessed by the naked figure and it became my favourite subject for some time, having been given a book of photographs by David Hamilton which I innocently believed were truly beautiful. As an impressionable teenager I was already looking at fashion magazines and studying artists who used the female as their muse. As a young adult I visited Charleston Farmhouse, home to the Bloomsbury Group, and as a result painted naked murals all over my bedroom walls. I was always attracted by the seemingly bohemian life style that artists appeared to lead and therefore knew that I wanted to be an artist myself. At school, by far my happiest memories were from many hours spent in the art room. I was adamant that I was going to art school, even though my school encouraged girls to follow a more ‘academic’ trajectory.

4. The exhibition is a show of four women artists. What are your thoughts on how far women have come in the arts? Do you define yourself as a 'Woman Artist'?

Yes, absolutely. I feel that my whole painting language is very female orientated. It is interesting to note that I very rarely paint men, and that if I do they will mostly be entwined with a woman in a loving, physical dialogue. My subject matter and the way I apply paint feels tremendously intuitive. I follow my feelings and emotions which dictate formalities of composition and colour choices. My inspiration is mainly derived from images of women, stories about women, and I have a strong belief that women and femininity are a primal and powerful force with their instinctive vision and philosophy of life. Women seem to comprehend and with their life-giving abilities are able to see what really matters. Their observation is critical in the way details are realised and brought to our attention. I think it is clear from the long list of female artists I have mentioned here, many of them being contemporary living artists, that women are taken far more seriously now than, say, in the nineteen forties and fifties in America, where competition to be represented by a major gallery was dominated by male artists. It is important to me to express through painting, whether abstract or figurative, an honest and direct approach. I want my voice to be heard, and I find the paintings themselves often inform me sometimes through happy accident, and remind me that I am constantly addressing life issues, consciously and sub consciously, whether in a self portrait or depicting a more archetypal woman.

5. Can you tell us about the women that appear in your paintings – are they autobiographical? – or more representative of other women, their lives and thoughts?

I am enclosing a quote here written by Olivia McEwan about my female figures.
'Henrietta Dubrey's female nudes are ferocious; primitive, boldly linear and curvaceous, they face the viewer centrally, frontally, with a knowing confidence. Set against flat, brilliant backgrounds of solid colour, despite their comparatively muted flesh tones, visually they engulf the surface plane as the focal point of attention. These are pieces which through rapid and determined painting a tangible sense of movement and poise communicates itself forcibly. Depicted with faux-naïve simplicity with more than a nod to primitivism, these figures are unabashed and luxurious in their femininity, the sex stark and strangely integrated into the geometric formation of the body. Inspired thus by the giants of linearity, Picasso, Le Corbusier and Hockney, Dubrey brings us a thoroughly contemporary image of the female, draped in cutting edge or avant-garde clothing. Indeed, sensitive to forward thinking fashion and the diffusion of imagery through modern photography, this is made apparent in the strong sense of unwavering focus throughout the works; that an image, once conceived, is rapidly recorded onto canvas with ruthless efficiency.'
This was written back in 2014 but I still feel is a good interpretation of the way I work with the female figure. The figures are often autobiographical, self-portraits, although they are not necessarily visually recognisable as myself. I like to imagine and try to paint how it feels to be a woman, and each painting describes situations and emotions which so often arise around the female predicament. Inspiration for my women also derives from the pages of the plethora of beautifully produced fashion and lifestyle magazines, the more progressive of which do not necessarily show only classically beautiful women. There seems to be a trend towards more unusual looking people of all shapes and sizes which I find fascinating to observe.
With regards to the paintings exhibited in this exhibition, I found a poem, or rather some words, that came to mind in an attempt to describe "Tokyo Showers'. The girl or young woman appears as a slightly confused awkward figure, who in this age of the 'selfie' is admiring her assets which she is led to believe are desirable.

Tokyo Showers
Thigh Gap. Desire
Dolce. Café latte

Forbidden fruit
Depression : Conformity

Objectifying Women
Feminist : Anti-feminist

'Clean' is really a portrait of my daughter as she appears fresh from a good night’s sleep, pyjamas, towel and mug of tea in hand, and starts to prepare herself for the day and experiences that life will throw at her.
'Jeu', or game, is a semi abstract, semi figurative painting. The various components that comprise this painting describe a light hearted approach to femininity and the psychological and physical games we can play. The palette is reminiscent of Fernand Leger and reminds me of a visit to his wonderful museum in Biot in the South of France. The black outlines are also a nod to his characterful and charismatic style. The dismembered body parts highlight all that is fun and pleasurable about being a healthy, sexually liberated woman.
'Generation' is more familial and motherly. The independent woman looking out for her young, and protecting the child, therefore, from the harsh realities that can come our way in the big wide world.

Henrietta Dubrey
February 2017


6. Catalogue introduction to 'Muse'
Solo Exhibition at Edgar Modern Bath  18 March to 5 April 2017

I could have imagined this exhibition as a classic series of paintings loosely based around the nine Greek goddesses, daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who preside over the Arts and Sciences. Or it could have been an exhibition based on one particular person or force who provided me with a source of inspiration, real or imaginary, made up or copied from the page of a magazine. As so often happens with an idea, neither of the scenarios realised themselves or came to obvious fruition.

The idea of my muse, having now painted the show, is a far looser construct; my muse is my inspiration. Inspiration is what drives my creative force. Inspiration is my muse, and it is the searching and waiting, the looking and longing for that magic moment that is crucial in the making of a successful painting.

So the paintings represented in my exhibition are a culmination of the last six or so months, and as such, form an autobiographical sketch of my life as a whole over this period. When painting with an automatist influence my muse is realised in sometimes strange ways, presenting compositions which when deciphered seem to sum up a situation or emotion that I wouldn't have been able to describe more eloquently in another language.

The act of painting itself decodes the subconscious, like dreams constantly deconstructing and reconstructing, feeding on different influences, working on the plethora of information one is constantly processing. The show has in fact turned out to be mainly abstract in nature. The paintings have arrived from the broad range of my psyche to reveal their story, which is in turn my story.

January 2017


7. Catalogue introduction to 'ABSTRACT'
Solo Exhibition at Edgar Modern 17-31 March 2016

Just like I’d rather be painting than writing about painting, abstract painting in particular allows a certain freedom of thought, literally “abstracted ideas”, which, through the medium of paint, gesture, colour, line and form, allow me the painter, and the viewer, to interpret a composition on many different levels, leading to a discourse and often something other, or becoming more than the sum of its parts. Like a portrait painted under intense scrutiny, subtleties of tone set a scene; the chaotic and accidental nature of mark making add an unknown excitement to the work.
‘Abstract’ was initially conceived having painted ‘Mural’, ‘Mur’, and ‘Pollination’ for the London Art Fair in January 16. The uncompromising, subconscious gestural marks creating narratives of their own. Exploring this and the use of paint I am rediscovering a freedom of language often lost in the more descriptive figurative paintings.


8. Thoughts on colour in my work

Bubble gum, Pink
Hot Orange
Bright pink, red or coral

Flat out Fabulous
Ruby woo
Relentlessly Red

Neutral nude
Rebel, deep fuchsia
orange red
Rich pink
Six pinks
Slick of scarlet
very cool
totally bare

Tangerine dreams.

Above poem from Henrietta Dubrey’s sketchbook notes: Titles for paintings March/April 2015, showing how one can be seduced by colour, even by their names alone!

When I think of colour in relation to my paintings, I think of all my favourite artists from Elsworth Kelly to Terry Frost, Howard Hodgkin to Josef Albers, Patrick Heron to John Hoyland, Matisse to Kenneth Noland. It is colour that connects, colour that inspires and invigorates and colour that gives life to a painting.

“Colour is the utterly indispensable means for realising the various species of pictorial space… (It can) push back or bring forward the required section of the design… Colour is therefore as powerful an agent of spatial expression as drawing.” Patrick Heron ‘Painter as Critic’ Pub. Tate 1998 p.87

Colour excites
Colour vibrates
Colour sets the tone
Colour tells a story.

Colour is important to me but is only one aspect of a painting, yet without it the entire mood of a composition can change. It is a critical part of how I think, and construct my paintings.

I paint with oil paint which I find sumptuous and seductive and I have become known for my colourist abstract and figurative work. I love to use colour, mixing pigments to make them unique. Colour doesn't necessarily have to be bright and obvious, and very often I will use a warm grey to offset the neutral tones of a figure. By contrast, as a compositional device the figure or abstract element in my painting might be masked by a coloured ground adding dramatic effect, a resonance and physical vibrancy which makes the painting sing. For example, in ‘Ready’ the azure blue background behind the head and shoulders of the young woman suggests the sky or sea of perhaps the Mediterranean. It contrasts with the almost abstract linear depiction of her hair and face to bring a sense of vibrancy and sunshine to the picture. It also contrasts dramatically with the flash of scarlet which hints at her bathing costume and enhances the colour of her eyes.

I love the way that the AAF designer has used complimentary colours which makes my painting stand out against the flat orange ground which encompasses the model, in turn mimicking my own composition.

“Orange is the colour of abundance and plenty. It gives delight and enlightens. Turner streaks his skies with chrome orange.” Derek Jarman ‘Chroma’ Pub. Century 1994

My choice of colour is never predictable. It depends on what mood I am in and what the painting is saying to me. I can choose colour on a whim. I like the idea of using chance and accident in my process of working, it is all part of the excitement of creating new work, seeing how colours react to each other and the resulting dynamic effect that makes the end product. I will often find that specific colour combinations are reminiscent reminding me of things from my past. A recent abstract painting titled ‘Sojourn’ was inspired by an antique Bedouin dress my mother owned. The bright fuchsia pink and faded indigo blue bounced up in my mind as soon as the combination appeared on the canvas.

Colour is the soul of a painting. It has to be just right.

Henrietta Dubrey
May 2015


Solo Exhibition at Edgar Modern 28th March – 11th April 2015

Anticipation, temptation and titillation; the excitement and trepidation felt at the idea of a solo exhibition. We surround ourselves and are engulfed in a plethora of images, texts and inspiration. The more one delves and enquires the wider the search becomes. Decisions become impossible, the scope is immense. Abstract versus figurative? Sweet Candy versus Wild Women? Or, a combination of both, result: ROUGH DELUXE.
The show comprises bold vibrant abstracts and bold brash women. The subject matter drawn from multifarious sources. Organic and gestural forms became the sweet candy element. Their jewel-like colours and simple shapes lure, tempt and vie for attention. The abstracts portray decadent painterly abstraction, indicating luxury and the necessary understanding that accompanies such work. They contrast starkly with the rougher elements of the wild women.
From fashion to erotica; both elements of the subtitle seem inextricably entwined. The uninhibited women became my obsession, be she young or old, model or protagonist. Wherever I looked, especially in fashion or art magazines, models and decadent imagery burst forth.
How the female of the species is perceived intrigues me. Her nakedness and vulnerability have so much to tell. Painted, photographed, the source material flows. Women are of the moment, depicter or depicted equally interesting; artists such as Chantal Joffe, Louise Bourgeois, Helen Frankenthaler, Agnes Martin, Tracey Emin and Marlene Dumas, their subject matter and thought processes flood my imagination, along with photographers from Francesca Woodman to Petra Collins, their ways of looking at women and how they are represented or express themselves fascinates me. I in turn wanted to paint how it feels to occupy a body.
What freedoms do we have? What is acceptable, what is offensive? There is so much to address from having children to ageing, and the panoply of dilemmas that life throws at us all. “The naked body is frequently the physical terrain artists traverse in the face of inner turmoil, guilt or anger. How can an artist represent loneliness, love, sexual yearning, wrath and shame? Drawing from the self or life model, from reproduction or the imagination, has provided artists with the freedom to explore such emotions and anxieties.”(1)
The paintings appear, the subject matter abstract or figurative a description of how I feel. They can be brash or personal, but by putting brush to canvas the confidence to share these emotions becomes easier.
This is just a beginning, an entrée into my way of working, thinking, living. As an introduction I hope it raises questions and delivers a taster to facilitate my audience’s engagement with the paintings, and that it communicates my need that they give time and space for what the paintings themselves have to say.

Henrietta Dubrey
January 2015

(1) Kate Macfarlane: A Wild Presence. The Nakeds. The Drawing Room, London, 2014


10. Henrietta Dubrey Abstraction - New Paintings from Cornwall - Eat Drink and Be Merry
Chapel Place Gallery, Tunbridge Wells, November 2014

By bringing together this collection of twenty two paintings and fifty small drawings for my solo show at Chapel Place Gallery, Tunbridge Wells, I am hoping to convey the joy of painting and its ability to lift the spirit. Through vibrant colour, abstract form and gestural brushwork it is my intention that the pared down compositions have an immediacy, to which it is possible to relate to instinctively.

From the moment I met directors Gill and Nicolas Ib I felt an immediate connection with them and the ideas they were formulating for their new venture at Chapel Place Gallery. After their initial visit in late 2013 to my studio in west Penwith, Cornwall, their very particular vision became apparent. As I listened to them talking enthusiastically about their love of curating and collecting I knew that the Gallery would be a special place to show. Their strong design ethic was evident, incorporating a geometric precision and architectural language which I felt my paintings would sit well within.

The working title of the show ‘Eat Drink and Be Merry’ came about after I had titled three smallish paintings and decided to present them as a triptych. These three, although small, formed the beginning of a body of work in which the painterly language I was using at the time, of strong colour and more organic shapes, began to cohere.

The three paintings are particularly spare compositions and I found that they began to speak with each other figuratively. The directness of the abstracted mark-making describes a guttural response to the ideas within. The near lurid palette of ‘Eat’ and its loose painterly marks have a luxuriant and decadent feeling redolent of Christmas fayre, ham hock and mustard glaze, cranberry sauce. It is a very gutsy, immediate painting, but one that in its reduced language seems to have a lot to say. Likewise ‘Drink’, with its flowing fountain of aerated blue clear water is refreshingly direct and quenches our thirsty souls. ‘Be Merry’ was my realisation of untamed consumerist desire. The big glass baubles, silver, cream and clear lured me to the shelves of the Conran Shop’s Christmas display. The box of six decorations shone out like jewels, to me reminiscent of a lush Terry Frost collage. In this painting their simplicity of design is juxtaposed with every girl’s dream, a new handbag. Prada? Celine? Pure decadence simply notated in three canvasses.

These and all the other strong, bold abstract paintings will be displayed alongside a series of fifty “vibrant, tangled and bold” small drawings and collages prepared especially for this show. Displayed as a block, these fifty images reveal the diverse thought processes that trigger inspiration for the larger compositions, small ideas which eventually lead to the bigger picture.

Henrietta Dubrey
November 2014


11. 'Interim'   Online exhibition    Edgar Modern Bath  August 2014

Interim is the title for a series of five large abstract paintings to be presented in an online exhibition at Edgar Modern, August 2014.

The physical scale of these five canvases gave me a chance to experiment in my abstract genre and explore the freedom of gestural painting. I was keen to explore colour and form, working intuitively to see where this would lead. The subconscious self reveals itself in mysterious ways. Mood and circumstance cannot be hidden. An autobiographical statement is made, laid bare, which then must be interpreted along the way and as the painting speaks and develops, a narrative builds.
‘Odyssey’ was the first of five, its inspiration and influences are strikingly obvious. A small and poignant exhibition of a few of Alan Davie’s work was on show at Tate Britain. I made a special journey from west Penwith to see these in the flesh. Very sadly he had just died, and the tribute of white roses were fading in the gallery, in memoriam. I wanted to make my own journey on my canvas, explore new realms, colours and marks, which would elucidate what I would go on to paint on the remaining four.

The apparent disparate elements of ‘Odyssey’ are drawn together by their inherent free mark making and vibrant colours, creating a dream-like state. Randomly placed and juxtaposed, they begin to tell the story of a journey. Such a large scale inspired a desire to create an abstract language that communicates gesture and emotion. I am transported to a foreign land, a land of painters and philosophers where ideas are born, mingle, and improvisation is foremost.

‘Dialogue’ came second. The organic triangular shapes, (I seem to have always avoided diagonals until now) emerge from the right hand side of the canvas and spread themselves generously as if crying out into a void, and yet forming a dialogue as they wander. This distinctive shape has been one that has recurred in subsequent paintings, including the third, ‘Trefusis’.
Deep hues permeate ‘Trefusis’, flooding in from right to left, growing in their intensity and volume. Smaller wispy lines and other marks interact with a small inpastoed splotch, and the four figured clover leaf shape floats as if on the surface plane, providing relief to the undercurrent of the painting’s narrative. This motif recurs in this series, and could be seen to represent faith, hope, love and luck; the elements of a four leaved clover. The looseness of the brush stroke and the lushness of hue infuse a complexity of emotion. The title bears reference to a place name in Cornwall and to Violet Trefusis, the lover of Vita Sackville West.

We are then taken skywards to an airier space. ‘Arioso’ has a lighter, more diffuse air, the pale palette suggesting sky, travel, freedom and clouds. The pale sapphire clover motif is a dominant force and demands complete attention over the whole picture. The whole painting sings its song, like an aria. Its pure lyrical tune soars on high.

And so, back down to ground or rather, pool. In ‘Bassin’ the mossy greens nurture similar shapes as they emerge in a more defined way. The finished effect took me back to an old garden bassin that I swam in as a teenager, in the garden of a beautiful French house set in a private sub-tropical garden on the outskirts of Toulon. The stone square pool was rich in flora and fauna, frogs and fish, lilies and weed, with a statue and fountain in the middle. Shallow, yet so shady and deeply refreshing in the midsummer heat, the idyllic pool replenished and cooled our young hot blood and souls in its timeless beauty.

Henrietta Dubrey
1st August 2014


12. Catalogue introduction to 'Fifteen New Paintings'
Solo Exhibition at Edgar Modern Bath 13th to 27th July 2013

It is strange and wonderful how, occasionally, a bolt of inspiration flows into being, predictably unpredictable, and a body of work emerges which seems to connect, to follow suite, develop a story, create a whole picture.

In the search for a new simplicity, a directness of voice, I felt the need to express the ideas in pure abstraction, and following on from and developing my 2012 striped paintings, new bold shapes appeared across the canvasses. The palette of the works is subdued, quiet and contemplative. I was trying to achieve a more meditative and deep, thoughtful oeuvre.

‘Hive’ and ’Context’ were the first to appear, the pared-downness not quite achieved.  The inspiration for these paintings was conceived during an IMS Prussia Cove concert on a cold winter’s night in Paul church. As the music played, my mind drifted and the ideas configured. The next morning in the studio, the compositions began to emerge instinctively, the particular ‘T’ shape and its dot repeating down the canvasses, which were worked on simultaneously. The works which followed these, pared down further the dark strong lines on these first paintings, creating grid like shapes, defining areas of canvas.

The whiteness, greyness and blackness, reminiscent of the winter months, the rawness of the season, the bareness, gave way firstly to a need for warmth and intensity as ‘Chocolatier’ was finished upon my return from a trip to London.  This painting describes for me a coffee-time treat with my daughter at a favourite haunt of mine since my days at the RA Schools. We sat in Patisserie Valerie in Old Compton Street, sheltering from a beastly January blizzard of sleet and snow outside, luxuriating in delicious pastries within. And then a sudden splurge of brightest green appeared on a canvas, a premonition of spring; work was going well, positive shoots pushed through, and colour was once more introduced to the palette. ‘Seeing Red’, one of the ‘Fifteen’, juxtaposed with the cooler more austere wintry works, carries the concept of spring giving way to midsummer; a June burst of warmth and sunlight. The deep warm reds change subtly down the canvas, through bright red to an intense burnt orange at the bottom of the canvas; the loose brushwork constrained by equally free margin lines, creating a grid like pattern which in turn connect back to paintings like ‘January’.

Minimal in concept, it is an ideal opportunity for me to present these ‘Fifteen New Paintings’ as a body, in the hope that they tell a story of half a year of my artist’s life in West Penwith.

Henrietta Dubrey
April 2013


13. Catalogue introduction to 'Developing Horizons'
Solo Exhibition at Edgar Modern Bath 24th November to 7th December 2012

Various influences have featured strongly in the development of my painting since ‘From Abstraction’, my first solo show at Edgar Modern. The paintings in ‘Developing Horizons’ follow suite, in that I am still intrigued by working simultaneously on figurative and abstract pieces, and I feel that the dialogue between them is becoming ever stronger.

As a painter, I find myself constantly fascinated with the process of life, how one comes to terms with situations, reacts to situations; and especially, within my method of working and thinking, I am keen to see the outcome that is produced, almost subconsciously, in the final stages of my paintings. For me the power of description is equally expressed whether described in purely abstract terms, i.e. form, space and colour, or by depiction of the human form. Painting is a solitary occupation; hours are spent alone, ones mind free to explore spaces in which to create something out of nothing. The creative process begins and with the first brush stroke something is born, which one can nurture and develop, rather like one would a child, in to a meaningful end product. Whether this product is beautiful, aesthetic, powerful or provocative reveals its personal story in its eventual outcome.

A couple of exhibitions in particular which I have seen this year provoked particular thought processes which I have carried with me in to the studio. ‘Simon Since Fujiwara’ at Tate St Ives (spring 2012), and Picasso and Modern British Art at Tate Britain during the summer, the first of which rekindled my love of Patrick Heron’s 1950-60’s stripe paintings and the second, in which Picasso’s unique female forms, their succinct vitality and voluptuousness, the strength of which never fail to send shivers down my spine. Experimentation with coloured stripes, and discovering how different juxtapositions of colours, and different palettes, become evocative of certain emotions; considerations as to how they in some way relate to ones everyday comings and goings I found fascinating, as I carried out what I would describe as the occasional automatism in my method of painting, i.e. the process that happens when nothing is premeditated; the line, form and colour you choose that day is purely instinctive, and therefore what one produces is somehow the truest indication of the profoundness of ones own personal experience. Similarly the figures are drawn from the same depths, the social standing of the artist, the woman, the mother, lover and social being exposed in the rawest and rudest way, i.e. the naked truth, sometimes literally when the nude is depicted, where there is nothing to hide behind, with consequent exposure. With the expressive gestures I am trying to capture a feeling of how something is or feels.

Hopefully a continuing dialogue is apparent between these two genres, by the marks I make, the textures I create and my palette. It is my aspiration that the work presents itself as a body of work which has not only broadened, but continues to develop my horizons.

The following poignant quotes from Patrick Heron, Space in Colour, 1953, describe salient points which I feel apply to my artistic process:

“In painting, space and form are not actual, as they are in sculpture, but illusory.”

“Colour is the utterly indispensable means for realising the various species of pictorial space.”

“Spacial colour is, however, a grammar: the language of space in colour can doubtless be made to express anything that stirs in the consciousness of man.”

Henrietta Dubrey
September 2012


14. Henrietta Dubrey – Artist’s Statement
Lynne Strover Gallery  Cambridge
November 2012

Lynne Strover has a passion for British Contemporary Art, and has described her passion for supporting ‘living artists’ as ‘like going into the unknown – but it is exciting’ (Cambridge Business May/June 2011).


When I first met Lynne in St Ives about ten years ago I met a very direct, forthright character, who obviously knew exactly what she liked and why, and therefore attracted me, as an artist, to someone who could be a very positive influence on helping me to communicate my work to a larger audience.  She said what she meant, and meant what she said, the proof being that she bought a very large abstract painting, one which I felt was strong and representative of my work at the time, yet one I was aware the ‘general public’ might struggle with.  My faith in Lynne was set, especially when I visited her gallery/home in 2003 at the time of my first solo show in Fen Ditton.


Her gallery certainly has impact; immediate impressions revealed a clean, uncluttered and meticulous eye.  My paintings sung out from the crisp white gallery walls, yet the space felt relatively domestic, encouraging confidence that an artwork purchased would sit comfortably in a home.  As I was invited further into Lynne’s private space, the colours, objects and paintings on the walls spoke to me: a woman with impeccable taste.  What really hit me though, was her living room; rich dark brown walls, a brave choice in itself, and to my utter delight my ‘large abstract’ in pride of place above the sofa, looking a million dollars.  The juxtaposition of the pale greens, creams and yellows of my canvas against the deep wall colour was a powerful but comfortable statement which worked unexpectedly well.  Another solo show followed in 2007 with numerous group shows in between.


Last year proved particularly exciting for me, with one opportunity leading to another.  Having decided to allow my figurative work to be seen, as well as my abstract work, really for the first time since leaving the RA Schools in 1992, and by exhibiting them together, new directions opened up to me.  The general response was very positive, and I accepted an offer from the Scandinavian design store Skandium, with branches in Brompton Road and Marylebone High Street, to showcase my paintings in their prestigious stores during the summer months.  My name was emblazoned in bright yellow across their windows, and paintings such as ‘Eugenie’ and ‘Balancing Act’, big, bold, naked dancing ladies pranced before passers-by.  One such passer-by happened to be the set designer for BBC’s ‘Absolutely Fabulous’ who thought these dancing ladies and powerful abstracts would be perfect to adorn the walls of Edina’s house in the three special episodes celebrating the 20th anniversary of the series, which they were just about to start filming.  The work was shipped over to BBC studios and hung on set.  Five paintings were used, the most prominent being in the living room and hallway.  I have always absolutely loved ‘Ab Fab’; this really was a ‘Dream Come True’, coincidentally the title of one of the works chosen, and I still can’t believe it every time I see my paintings on the walls with Edina, Patsy and a star-studded cast casually playing in front of them.  The whole world was going to see my work!


The paintings I am sending to Lynne for the Christmas period 2012 include two of my newer figurative series; ‘Scorcher’ is bright in palette, and depicts a reclining woman at her leisure, sunbathing in privacy, in her straw hat.  Maybe startled by someone approaching, she is seductive, and the mood is hot; hence the title.  ‘Looking Back’ is more subdued in palette and mood, possibly more of a self portrait.  The viewer catches the moment the figure looks over her shoulder, checking before she moves on into the future.


Henrietta Dubrey

November 2012




15. Henrietta Dubrey – Artist’s Raisonnée
‘Journey and Discovery’ April 2012
Joint exhibition with Stella Maris at the Stoneman Gallery

It is interesting how, when one hears other artists’ thought processes or ideas, that they can trigger a subconscious desire to further develop what you, yourself, are attempting to say in your own work.

Meeting Stella Maris for the first time, and hearing about her inspiration and ideas for her work to be represented in this show which we are sharing, started me thinking about the roots of my own work, especially the more abstract pieces. I found that this reflection revealed that I still look to my past and its inherent effect on my subconscious, and that it consequently seeps into my work. The paintings exhibited in this show explore both my Sussex roots and my adopted Cornwall.

Born and raised in Sussex, my connection with the place is still very strong. My parents still live there and I therefore visit frequently; when I do so, I am thrust back into a different world from the one in which I inhabit here in Cornwall. The rugged landscape I have become accustomed to here is instead suddenly full of green, of trees, of different colours; I am aware of different plants, textures, the creamy white of chalk, and the hard sharp flints which fleck throughout it. Several of the paintings in this show do, I think, reveal a real Sussex origin; others I see as wholly Cornish.

As a child, I was the much-youngest of three children. I spent many a lone hour walking on the Downs lost in my own thoughts, and experiencing what felt to me to be a vast openness. On top of the massive hill opposite our house, I could see for miles across the Weald and listen to skylarks, sit amongst the cowslips and scabious, smell the ripe wheat being harvested and fly in my imagination with the hang-gliders hanging in the thermals above the Devil’s Dyke.

Throughout my childhood regular trips to St Ives at Easter or during October became the highlight of my year. The tiny streets in St Ives, their fascinating names, Love Lane, Back Road West, The Digey, became a magical maze for me to explore and discover, in total safety, my independence in a small town. Long days were spent walking the coast path, and visiting Penzance, Newlyn and of course all the galleries and some notable pubs; The Sloop, The Tinners Arms, and The Gurnards Head. Sketch pad always in hand, I observed the rich colour of the rusty moorland bracken, amongst which monumental stones protruded interrupting the horizon, and alongside which rose tall majestic chimneys from the now redundant mining era.

This landscape, as well of course as the harbour with its fishing boats, piers, lighthouses, surfers and seagulls, was a fertile ground indeed for a young aspiring artist. I would follow my architect father around, sketching and observing the contrast to my normal experience. We used to stay in a top floor apartment in ‘Piazza’ overlooking the magical Porthmeor beach, the special light flooding in from north and south, a light reflected from the sand and sea surrounding St Ives, itself an island promontory.

Fascinating shops, galleries and characters, in particular Kathy at the Penwith Society of Artists, Henry Gilbert (Gilly) at Wills Lane Gallery, Bob Devereux at the Salt House Gallery, the Sloop Craft Market with its silver and knitwear, a New Years Day swim with Patrick Hughes and Molly Parkin, and the Porthmeor Studios where the latter shared a workspace, all stuck in my mind, and I would return to all these memories in my imagination once back at home with my sketchbooks. From this inspiration, I generated motifs which would appear again and again in my paintings all the way through my art school years in London, and henceforth during the five years I spent living in Northern France. In the end the pull of all this was so strong that it became inevitable that a move back to England had to be to Cornwall.

To be immersed into the area of west Penwith felt like a home-coming in an artistic sense. I felt at home with the artistic heritage which had recently been so vibrant, especially surrounding St Ives and along the north coast road in the direction of St Just where the influence of the landscape upon Peter Lanyon, Brian Wynter and Roger Hilton had been so prevalent. In 1999 when I moved to Cornwall Terry Frost and Sandra Blow were both still alive and working, the last great survivors of a truly golden era in British Art. Patrick Heron died just in that year. As Stella and I agreed, St Ives was the true birthplace of British modernism, a centre of excellence where Ben Nicholson and Barbara Hepworth had drawn in the likes of Francis Bacon and Mark Rothko, thus inspiring the New York School which later led to Abstract Expressionism.

This sensation of the importance of the artistic heritage of St Ives has obviously become a common thread amongst many contemporary painters working in west Cornwall and further afield.

In the February 2012 edition of Cornwall Today there is an article on the painter Steve Joy. In this, he comments that he would like to see Cornish art move to another level, and feels the need to “generate a dialogue about painting in a deeper way, free of cliché and accepting of risk”. Concurring with this statement, for me this feeds back directly to the seriousness of integrity and the achievements of the Middle Generation St Ives Artists, and is crucial to my ongoing methodology.

It is because of this that I feel a particular connection with Stella. We both have strong connections with Sussex, and have been drawn to Cornwall through its profound artistic and creative energy, specifically that of the ‘Middle Generation’ referred to above, when St Ives was a real artist’s colony, a hubbub of ideas, energy and innovation in the post-war years. We do not seek to imitate, rather to intuitively carry on with the same integrity to produce original art, purely created from an intellectual stimulus which comes from infinite sources, creating a contemporary and strong statement for today.

Generally my work is inspired by a genuine desire to simply get in to the studio and paint. Inspiration comes from all around, but specifically the paintings in this show fall into three different categories; abstract landscape (Sussex), abstract landscape (Cornwall), and abstract figures, the latter mostly from my imagination. Talking to Stella started me on the route to making landscapes/paintings to do with my past and where I grew up. My formative years form an extremely important part of my inspiration; my mind often wanders back to childhood experiences and various specific memories. Intuitive paintings commence and develop over a period of time, building texture and composition, using thick impasto, smooth film like layers and fine line to create a sense of place, a feeling or mood of a place; suggestive, but not photographic records. The shapes and colours produced can suggest a time of year, a season, just as much as place. It seems to me that the landscapes fall into two distinct categories of east and west, Sussex and Cornwall.

Figures emerge more spontaneously than the landscapes, subconsciously derived from photographs in magazines or family albums. Characters are formed from the defining lines and curves of a body or face; a dancing lady appears, stretching, or bending, a figure sitting, or staring, and sometimes these subjects suggest to me something specific, for example in my painting ‘Shrimptons Pose’, which brings David Bailey’s photograph of Jean Shrimpton forward in time, a powerful and iconic image, still as relevant today as when it was taken, but brought into my world, and therefore yours as the viewer; the vibrant blue background, redolent of Shrimpton’s famous blue-painted Abbey Hotel here in Penzance. The bright palette and artistic license describe a keen offshore breeze, blowing her fiery hair away from her innocent young face, a fresh beauty.

Henrietta Dubrey
February 2012

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