A long Sweet After Taste

It is a sip of pleasure that has gone on, and on.  The purchaser of my RA accepted picture is a super actor with his own star shining bright and and this has added another lift to my own pleasure - seeing his name in lights... And to think I was just happy to get past the first selection. The seconds of exposure on Culture Show, big bonus.  Selling... Great. Enquiries from more interested parties and further interest in my work, finding out who the purchaser was.  What a lovely time it is.

I have now been re visiting the film that inspired the work and am finding even more to glean from it.  I have also reflected on the series of small but relevant keys that unlocked the possibility of it.  So I will write the story to keep it safe.

It was ten years ago that my 75 year old father received an intriguing letter from a curator at the East Anglian Film Archives. Some home movies/ films were sent for dad to view. they may be of interest; Could he be the Graham Hunt mentioned in one of the black and white captions and if so, did he know who any of the other characters in the series of short films?

Dad was an only child.  His mother died in childbirth when he was three and after that time for a few years he was looked after by his father and a housekeeper. His mother Blanche was a tiny woman - possibly only 4ft 10 inches, her family blamed my grandfather - Charles Hunt for her death, and so there is little or no contact with them again.  The old movies were made around this time - when dad was about  four to seven years old. (1933/6) they were made by his Uncle on fathers side.. Earnie.  Dad is very recognisable in that although often blurry and very young - he has prominent big ears and skinny little limbs.

There are four  sections of film with dad clearly present.  A walk in the country, then, a most poignant sequence of play with grandpa (who I knew as a rather austere man) mucking about in a hay field, a birthday party for Esme dads older cousin - which has vignettes of little acting scenes as entertainment and also a sequence where Graham and Charles are getting into the car and to drive away.
It is all revelation, as after this time Charles married Paddy and for what ever reason, this family was lost. The obvious close relationship at such a delicate time withered with her joining the family.

Though I now know that there was some contact by letter and I think my sister and I met Ernie and Minnie (his wife - also very recognisable in the movies with solid dark framed round glasses - and a certain stylish quality) for a brief lunch visit with Paddy and Charles. Sarah and I were very young, but the event stayed in the memory due to a caterpillar in the lettuce and tension that we did not understand.

So moving on.  Dad is now over eighty.  I am living in Scotland and have friendship with Mary Cane, we both attend the MFA at Grays School of Art.
Mary has restored a series of buildings - a substantial Victorian house and its outbuildings and stables,
All done with quirky style and comfort.  Some hand rendered care and some fashionable furnishings - it is a mix of personal arts and craft creativity and grander design - I find it very appealing.

About two years ago, Mary  extracted a nostalgic and intriguing image from a 1930's movie about the House (Ardo). It showed two indistinct figures, that I read as female.  What was distinct is the period of clothing and hats and a visible body language of companionship.  Within that fleeting snapshot was a wealth of possibility.  I used the image many times.  It inspired a rich seam of pictures and they also had an appeal to others, which I did not expect.  The universal desire for nostalgia and its richness in the pre war period was being tapped in these images.

It took me another year to think of re visiting the images of my father and his pre war family. The film is on video, so it is lucky we have been too idle  to throw out the redundant machine. And my pathetic techno ability took even more time to realise the potential of the 'rapid' take  facility on my camera. Even though back in my MFA days I had delighted in the movement it could capture with a quick succession of stills.  But this is what I reference to as a trail of little clicks or chicks (or is it ducks) in a row to realise the possibility of some new work.

So I started a series of six paintings depicting my father as a young boy clambering over a hedge on a country walk. I put gentle colour into the faded black and white shots.
One of these I took out of the series as I felt it had stand alone appeal, the almost silhouetted figure looking straight out of the frame at the viewer.  I titled it 'still, looking back at me looking back'
And with a feeling of trepidation that often accompanies sending work to open shows... I took it to the Royal Academy in London where it Joined the stacks of thousands of hopeful submissions.