dominique cameron RSW

Just to let you know that if you fancied grabbing a copy of the book to accompany the exhibition then do please got in touch. the price is £20 plus £2 postage.

You can email me at dominiquecameron3@gmail.com and we can arrange a copy to be sent.

Also, theres a great review of the show from arts journalist Jan Patience on her substack site – airts and pairts, if you were able to take a look 🙂

Thanks

Dominique x

A huge thank you to everyone that came along on saturday for the opening of the show. It was a great day with lots of good conversations about the project and art making in general. And with some sales too it was a great success. Do drop along if you can, the show runs until the 22nd June.

Tomintoul and Granny Pine, Abernethy wood.

High pillowed clouds in the bluest sky in May, recedes to violet and smalll patches of snow still visible on the northern facing mountains. A tottering lapwing, worries its patch of earth. In the woods the towering Scots Pines, a few Grannies as they are known – the oldest, tallest, gnarliest of them, wild and unkempt in their dotage and beautiful. The sun slants to the forest floor picking out dog violets. Meet an elderly couple who walk here every day – he was head forester way back when. They have been married sixty two years. He talked about the once thriving capercaillies and the small woodland birds that would feed from his hand. Butterflies dart and birdsong fills the pine scented air.

Oil, charcoal and collage on wood panel – 40 x 50 cm.

‘Shall we go ?” – Acrylic on panel – 122 x 100 cms.

My solo show ‘Waterland’ with Fidra Fine Art is opening soon – the preview is the Saturday 17th May in the afternoon. The work is based on the landscapes of Rannoch Moor and Methil docks. Unlikely bedfellows at first glance but they share the same indeterminate state of being. The old wooden piers at dock number 3 in Methil and the bog of Rannoch inhabit both land and water in that they are neither one thing or the other wholly. This constant state of uncertainty proved to be an interesting starting point to think about not only the landscape itself but perhaps other outside influences on myself this year. This has been a multi disciplinary project with drawings, paintings, an installation and small sculptural works. I do hope you can make it along, if not for the opening but at some point over its run with Alan at the gallery. There will also be a talk hosted by Alan and myself exploring some of the themes in the project. No date yet for this but I’ll keep you posted, it will be sometime during the exhibition. The dates are May 17th – 22nd June 2025.

Dominique x

Mixed media on wood – 100 x 100 cms.

Oil on wood – 50 x 40 cms.

Pulling away from the city, sun drenches a Dutch painted landscape, skies all sharp blue and dazzle white clouded, flattening fields, pushing them inexorably toward the coast and the waiting North Sea. Picking up speed now, hurtling past wind stooped hawthorns, sewage works and Shetland ponies and a boy walking across a vast field with his head down. To my left, a group of Glasgwegians, off to the races. Tennents and banter. Turning, kneeling on the seats, hanging over the headrests, laughing, like bairns on a school trip. They are all my age. Loud, happy. Brick, houses, half timbered, gravel pits, conservatories, canals and traffic at a standstill. “Darling, if it’s too much then don’t, it’s your call, you’re in charge…….no I just thought…… no, I appreciate that, yes, I know, honestly you don’t have to…… ” The phone call ends. She turns to her daughter who says,”I don’t know why you bother Mum. Why do you?” “Because I love her”. Outside the day pulls us closer to London. Where is the point where the countryside ends and ther city begins ? I always try to look for the edge but am always left disappointed as the frontier blurs, seamless almost. Yet there is a change, perhaps it could be the combined weight of people and their stuff that causes the light to constrict, where the Flemish sky admits defeat, retreating as we push on through Betjamin country and the long ago, lost, Utopian suburbs. I turn back to my phone and scroll through the flotsam of ill advised words and the world does indeed dim slightly.

Methil docks this morning. The sun is shining but there’s a cool wind from the south east numbing my fingers. A few creel boats are out in the Forth but not busy. Gulls sook in the sun on the corrugated warehouse roof. Eider ducks bob. A small boat squeaks against its fenders and the pier pilings with every wave. An understated start to the day, police sirens, outboard motors and a startled pigeon blown in on the breeze.