Ghosts of a Collective Memory
It was 50-odd years ago when we first visited the Isle of Wight. There was something magical about the place which made quite an impression on me.
Everything was slightly different and old fashioned; the old 1920s reused tube trains, the boys using old prams to take luggage to hotels and the quaint telephone kiosks that looked like Chinese pagodas.
The other place was the precariously perched amusement park, Blackgang Chine on the windy south of the island. There was something slightly creepy about the place which was part of the attraction.
Here, my paintings depict the beloved views devoid of people and strangely silent as the eroded landscape has made them ‘Ghosts of a Collective Memory’.
