Drawing on Nature

The Rewilding Britain Garden RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2022

Published in The Sherborne Times, July 2022

In spring 2021, a chance conversation at Wincanton Town Festival led to a commission for a unique piece of artwork. Intrigued by Urquhart & Hunt’s stall at the Festival, and knowing a little bit about their work as environmentalists and landscape designers, I bought some organic bulbs from their stall and gave them a copy of one of my greeting cards.’ I thought nothing more of it other than the opportunity to say hello and share a love of all things wild and nature-based.

A few months later, I received a call to say that Urquhart & Hunt were working on a Rewilding Britain garden design for the 2022 Chelsea Flower Show and would I be interested in helping with some of the artwork? Commissions can be tricky; there are always doubts and questions when making any piece of art but a commission can sometimes also raise mis-matched expectations. Although this was something different, the fact that the garden would highlight the reintroduction of Beavers to the British landscape, after an absence of 500 + years, piqued my interest and I knew early on that this would be something that I would love to work on. 

The desire to make a particular piece of work comes from within, literally being drawn to make work about a very particular moment or observation so being asked to produce something for someone else’s requirements has to fit in with that desire. Seeing the ongoing depletion of our natural world, and having the chance to contribute to something positive felt like an opportunity not to be missed.

Meetings followed, firstly on Zoom to understand what the intentions and remit were, what the design might look like and how the different elements would fit together to tell this story. Water features which mimicked Beaver habitats, dams and a lodge, authentic West Country walls and a riparian meadow would all combine for the vision. Just before Christmas, I was taken to see a nearby site where Beavers had established a territory. A first glimpse of the Beaver lodge and a gnawed branch, with distinctive incisor teeth marks, was thrilling and I knew at that moment that the garden would capture people’s imaginations. To see evidence of the Beavers and their activity was a privilege and the tour of the site gave me an initial understanding of what incredible bio-engineers Beavers are. Channels linking up ponds and streams, dams, felled trees and the lodge itself all creating a unique ecosystem which then enables other species to thrive, building a food chain. 

I have to admit to being initially alarmed at seeing some sizeable Alders felled, with the classic double inverted gnawing at their bases, but reassured that this only enhanced the landscape, encouraging new growth, natural coppicing and regeneration. I also thought that if we hadn’t denuded nature so much ourselves, the sense of loss would not have felt so great; the work of the Beavers was just part of the natural order of things. Further research revealed what special structures the lodges are too, the heap of sticks and branches carefully constructed and housing chambers, with a temperature-controlled, secure interior. 

Responding to digital artwork which laid out the plans, I produced the hand drawn artwork over Christmas ready for the main rounds of press releases in the New Year. 

Further visits were arranged for early February and I met with the team who would be working on the garden, at a couple of locations in Devon. We were accompanied by Professor Richard Brazier. Richard is a leading expert on Beaver reintroduction and it was fascinating to hear first hand how Beavers can create areas of huge water retention, preventing flooding downstream as well as their work as a keystone species enabling the flourishing of a truly bio-diverse landscape. Richard was at pains to point out that this does not just happen in isolation and the need to scientifically monitor licensed sites and mitigate any negative impacts on surrounding land use and human populations was vital to the success of this work. Structures such as ‘Beaver deceivers’ can help alleviate flooding in unwelcome areas. This is where I hoped that the artwork would have a small part to play in this process, helping interpret and explain to people about the positive role of Beavers on ecosystems as well as deflate a few myths. 

The two sites we visited that day varied. The impression of the first site was completely unexpected and surprising. It was described as a ‘periglacial wood pasture’- boggy, criss-crossed by channels, with various grasses, mosses and trees growing in various directions with a backdrop of pioneer birch, and then oak. It was a tricky landscape to traverse, with a sense of very much being in another creature’s territory and not being that welcome! As we made our way across the site, a section of ponds and dams were revealed. This was repeated at the second site, which was more linear, again a succession of ponds and dams, but dotted along a river valley. As the damming created ponds, the rising water level had encompassed the base of nearby trees. Broken light filtered through. The watercourse changed further downstream, the dams becoming bigger and more elaborate, until we reached a very large pond with a dam which was big enough and established enough to walk across. Occasionally the dams break and the Beavers re-engineer them (re-wiggling them) to create a stronger structure, with greater surface area making contact with the water. The dams have a drop of several metres on the down stream side. It was incredible to walk across this dam and experience the Beaver’s engineering skills in this way. It was clear that the whole team would take the experience of the visit to these unique habitats into consideration and that the initial design would need to be re-wilded further. I was excited to see how this might evolve and how wild they would go. 

Seeing the garden at Chelsea, and understanding more about it’s evolution to something much wilder, was moving and to observe people’s responses was inspiring. The attention to detail was astonishing, and the planting exquisite, thanks to people such as Landscape Associates, Water Artisans, West Country Hedge Layer, Hillside Conservation and Leaf Creative. Supported by Project Giving Back and Rewilding Britain, the garden was a perfect slice of West Country in the middle of London and faithfully presented many of the main elements from the site visits. This even included a silted, murky pond and water filtering through the dam to create a clear stream with gravel beds, which in the wild would be ideal for spawning salmon and trout.

The garden won not only a Gold Medal but also RHS Best Show Garden. The richness and detailing of the design, bravery of the concept and importance of the idea warranted this achievement. Watching it on BBC, the decision generated much discussion. Was it a garden? From my experience of visiting Chelsea and seeing many of the other gardens, I was left with the question of not only what constituted a garden but also the role gardens play in our lives. Is it not only to do with our relationship with and understanding of nature, and where and how we engage with it, but also the questions and choices we must now face given unsustainable pressures on the natural world? Chelsea is very much a blank canvas onto which ingenuity is applied and ideas are sown to inspire us, whatever we might want to take from them. 

Beavers bring so much to the landscape, almost single-handedly positively transforming not only the upper stretches of river courses but also having benefits further down stream as well. Their moving of sticks and debris help provide opportunities for diverse fungi habitats and improves soil and water quality, and changes in water movement. Beavers’ activity creates important and much needed space for amphibians, fish, small birds and mammals. They are remarkable creatures. But maybe just as important is the way this whole project, along with the Beavers themselves, might just be the story we all need to engage more people to appreciate our own place in the natural order, not outside of it, and capture people’s imaginations to take positive action to safeguard the future of the natural world, wherever we relate to it. Without visionary work like this, what we all stand to lose seems unimaginable.

A Post Industrial Picturesque

A Post Industrial Picturesque

Brampton Museum, Newcastle-Under-Lyme, ST5 0QP

28 June – 7 September 

This exhibition presents a range of new works from over 30 artists which explore the subject of industrial ruins; their allure, fascination and histories.

Winspit Quarry has never failed to hold my fascination or intrigue, returning repeatedly over thirty years. The weight of the limestone and force of the sea has shaped a place which seems unyielding, permanent and fixed yet each visit reveals small, barely-imperceptible shifts. 

Shrimp Bed, Under Picking, Pond Freestone, Titanites, Blue Bed, The Spangle, Portland Chert.

I am aware that in the space between each visit, I am changed and I return different to the last visit; the place then holds different questions. Each time, there are different reasons for visiting but I can never really know quite what it is that has led me there. But the pull remains.

For ‘Trace’, I deliberately avoided any built remains, focussing on the absent space created by the quarry galleries. I wanted something which had echoes of human activity, at the intersection of industry, abandonment, and nature recovery. How many of the marks in this image remain from human endeavour and how much is natural, returning even?

Exhibition Catalogue Statement

In the eighteenth century there were more than two hundred quarries in Purbeck, Dorset. ‘Purbeck marble’ was quarried from the cliff face via caves and tunnels. The stone was loaded onto boats by crane and taken to London. The return journeys brought building masonry back to the area, acting as ballast, with many architectural features from the capital re-sited in Swanage. In their new surreal seaside location, they provided inspiration for artist Paul Nash, who lived in Swanage for a short while.

Winspit was used as a stone quarry until 1940. Remnants of buildings and loading ramps still linger, but the ‘absent space’ of the quarry caves and tunnels provide an enigmatic trace of activity, now home to rare Bat populations.

A ruin is more than a collection of debris. It is a place with its own individuality, charged with its own emotion, atmosphere and drama, of grandeur, of nobility and of charm. These qualities must be preserved as carefully as the broken stones which are their embodiment. When we contemplate ruins, we contemplate our own future and the inevitability of human progress over time.

Ruins can inspire a wide variety of responses that includes a curious magnetism. There is a perverse pleasure perhaps even fear in the contemplation of decay. One attraction is their sense of transience and vulnerability, antipathy to permanence which is an existential necessity for humanity. They offer the prospect of oblivion – a perfect metaphor for the futility of mortal pride. The bare vestiges contrast with the original use and purpose of the structure, for the interest in ruins rarely equates to its reality. Ruins do not speak; we speak for them – they are a sounding board for the emotions.

Ruins succumb to virulent and wild nature which appears almost as an instrument of revenge. The promise of the inevitable victory of nature, free and democratic, over the tyranny of structures and what they embodied, especially some industrial ruins, symbolises the contest between the individual and the universe. The embrace of nature fills us with joy for no ruin can be suggestive to the viewer’s imagination unless in dialogue with the forces of nature – visibly alive and dynamic in opposition to the death of the structure. When ruins are cleaned up and deprived of nature’s magic wand, they can appear lonely, sinister, and dislocated from place and time. 

Memories of organised human activity and lives invested in the extraction, movement, manipulation and transformation of materials.

In a way, there is also something cleansing or neutralising in the encroachment of nature and the dissolution of human made processes by natural growth, decay  and absorption.

Industrial ruins, in some cases, emphasise contrast between the urgency, noise and ‘brutality’ of the forces that were managed within these spaces and the silent invasion of natural processes.”

Tim Craven and Phil Smith

Every Step of the Way

Making the Spot – a walk in Longing and Loss

In August 2024, I walked a 10 mile section of the South Downs Way for an Arts and Place project, Every Step of the Way, where artists have been invited to respond to allocated sections of the entire 100 mile route. The exhibition runs at The Arc, Winchester, 4 April – 16 July 2025 and at The Weald and Downland Living Museum 22 September – 8 February 2026.

Many paths, and routes, are taken in life. Some are slower, but there is always direction, progress intentional or not, however a terminus might be determined and no matter the diversions or distractions along the way.

The anticipation of walking a section of the South Downs way held a deep appeal. Unfamiliar territory, a time to explore where ideas lurk and spirits dwell. At the tail end of summer, and with autumn soon within reach, tracking the bone crest of chalk between Upper Beeding and Washington under an aching heat. Red Kites patrol the fields in the lea of the southern slopes between Steyning Bowl, looking towards Cissbury Ring. Scorched grass, bleached tracks, a route itching with dryness. Two Ashes, fanning out, animated structures but alone in the corner of a field. Poppies adding dashes of blood in the stillness. 

There was little of note on the Downs that day; the earth lapsing and gasping, demise, silenced song, numbness, a succumbing, a stupor. Lurking to the north, Gilbert White’s presence, just a veil over the hangars and downs. But a strong bond – Familial roots and routes.

As well as the linear route, established over millennia, there are the other dimensions to walking. It is of a comfort to walk with just a simple objective – to reach the end of that day’s section, under an infinite sky. And something other, less tangible; space in which to ponder on the way and derive a reaction – to gather clear observations and thoughts, to take them home and create a response. 

Chanctonbury Ring, study #6

In unfamiliar territory, looking for something relatable or at least subconsciously recognisable to respond to. The sublime will always come calling even in the depths of distraction or abandonment; unpredictable, surprising, shifting.

Chanctonbury Ring, a fine standing of Beech bound within a sacred enclosure, sat at the end of the day. The blackness of the tree shade, thrust deeper by the striking light, creating contrast in the shelter – a mark on a gently sloping shoulder of chalk. 

Exhibition notes: 

Ten works were produced in response to walking the Way, a personal record of a distinct moment. The effort of walking creates a sense of achievement; progression, as with any journey physical or otherwise. Exploration and desire can sometimes be objective, clear, and purposeful, sometimes not so, ponderous, circular, reflective. 

At Chanctonbury Ring: Figures walking towards each other, or parting? Life and death held in the Beeches, regenerating. Nearby, Ashes with dieback line the Way.

Hogback Hills

I am one of 21 invited artists contributing to an exhibition in summer 2024 at the Sidney Nolan Trust in Presteigne which explores the geological, ecological and human story of Hanter Hill, Worsell Wood and Stanner Rocks. 

The area, on the mid-Wales/England border, contains remnants of Pre-Cambrian volcanoes and some of the oldest rocks in Wales. It’s a beautiful location, and Stanner Rock is home to the elusive Radnor Lily.

I spent the first weekend of 2024 walking in Worsell Woods as well as Stanner Rocks, exploring as much as possible. With limited time, it was important to get a sense of the ecology of this particular area and the ‘feel’ of the hills and how the underlying geology informs what lives on the surface. I wanted to discover the different inhabitants in this area, in a variety of habitats including mixed woodland with some striking examples of oak, ash and birch.

I have had a long interest in the work of naturalist Gilbert White and prior to visiting Stanner, I had visited his home in Selborne on the South Downs. His important work observing and documenting birds, their behaviour and associated ecology have inspired many. During lockdown I became especially interested in the birdlife of the surrounding woods at home and in particular, how I encountered, observed and recorded them; not just their identification but also their behaviours. In short, I noticed ‘more’. I thought about how we observe and record – what do we actually notice, and what can we learn and retain, especially when walking? 

This turned my thoughts to our relationship to what we refer to as ‘nature’ and the fragility of ecological systems. Walking the Hogback Hills reveals the eons of deep time and relative permanence expressed in the geological make up of the Stanner complexes expressed against the short, thin veil of our own existence and impact we are enacting on the planet.

A series of bird drawings will form part of the exhibition which runs from 18th July – 28th September.

Hogback Hills – Sidney Nolan Trust, The Rodd, Presteigne, LD8 2LL

Sidney Nolan Trust