…. namely, how to choose a title. I’ve finished two little watercolour pictures, based on visits to the sea-side. They are intended to be included in my October exhibition in Norfolk. (I did quite well when I showed there a couple of years ago.) The first one takes as its focus one of the timber barriers across the beach that are called “groynes”, the purpose of which is to hinder the wash of gravel along the coast. The second shows, simply, a small pool excavated by the movement of the water, in the rock and sand of the beach. They are more like still-life studies than landscapes, and have to do with capturing a moment of perception. The first one sets out to catch the way in which the two-and-fro movement of the water across the timber barrier has left a sense of the rhythm of the waves imprinted in the pattern of deposited gravel and stone. The second picture deals with a subject that has fascinated me for a long time, namely, the effect of seeing objects through water. In this case, the pebbles in the cavity are partly submerged, and the light is reflected back from one part of the surface, while the surface is in shadow elsewhere. Light and shadow have an impact on the way in which we see through the water. So: two simple little pieces. But what to call them?
My wife insists that titles are very important in relation to pictures, and gets annoyed when artists call their work Untitled. Her terse remark is, “If you can’t be bothered to give us a title, then I can’t be bothered to look.” Perhaps a bit harsh, but since the success of a picture depends crucially on the work of interpretation done by the viewer, it seems courteous to give the viewer a hint about the direction in which he or she might set off. In the case of such enigmatic work as most of my pictures, I do feel obliged to offer the viewer something to work with.
I’m playing with the idea of calling the image of the groyne, Post. It is a collection of “posts”, in the sense of baulks of timber, and one of these is at the heart of the picture. The term also points towards the importance of time (one of my enduring concerns) in the sense of something afterwards (as in “post-war”, or “post mortem“). I’m blowed if I can think of an idea for the other one, though. It will sit there for a while, and then I’m sure it will say something to me. The exhibition isn’t until October, so I have time.
PS: Actually, the really big problem is how much to charge for a picture, but that’s another story.