|
neil pinkett selected works
Neil Pinkett - Scillonian Neil Pinkett, one of Britains finest landscape painters, knows this. In Scillonian, his fifth exhibition at Cornwall Contemporary, his depiction of the vessel which links mainland Britain with the Isles of Scilly is nuanced, subtle, deft and, above all else, impressionistic in the sense deployed by one of the seas great writers, Joseph Conrad. My task is to make you hear, to make you feel - it is, before all, to make you see, wrote Conrad, a statement of intent which Pinkett, a profoundly physical man, seems to exude in his being as much as in his work. Witness, for example, the DVD created in accompaniment to Pinketts book, Travels in Britain. It is an ingenuous, unadorned portrayal of a working methodology which has seen Pinkett undertake lengthy cycling and canoeing trips in Britain. Complete with panniers packed with paints, canvases and brushes, not to mention a six-month training regime which saw him clocking up 40 to 50 racing-bike miles a day, Pinkett cycled from Cape Wrath to Cape Cornwall in 2006. A thousand miles later, he was not only elated but also in possession of oodles of material for a fresh, vibrant body of new work - just as he was when he completed canoe trips, first down the River Shannon in Ireland and then through the Clyde and Glasgow and out to the Inner Hebrides of Arran and Mull. But as much as he is peripatetic, perhaps even restless, Pinketts work is often of the land and sea of the Cornwall he has known since childhood. Born in St Just, mainland Britains most westerly town, in 1958, he is one of five children to a father who was a ships radio officer and a mother who worked in a doctors surgery. He enjoyed drawing from an early age, and quips that it - and painting - was All I could ever do. His many admirers will be glad of Pinketts lifelong absorption in art; so, too, of his knowledge of the vessels operated by the Isles of Scilly Steamship Company, past and present. Scillonian thus emerges as a body of work comprised of much, much more than mere facts, a series of paintings pregnant with possibility and affirming a delightful intimacy with their subject. The wind may be like a whetted knife: Neil Pinkett makes you see it, as much as you hear and feel the Scillonian in all her glory. By Alex Wade, writer and regular contributor to, among others,The Times, Financial Times and Times Literary Supplement. |