When I was invited to write this article about myself, I had to think very carefully. Where do I start? "From the beginning," I hear you say. Well, I suppose I started drawing, as all human beings do, at a very young age; that's a lifetime away, as I'm now into my old age pension. All people draw at some point in their lives: it's usually our first attempt at communicating with other beings, and also, I believe, a way of trying to understand the world around us.
I started my working life as a joiner and wood-carver, and my ability to represent 3D objects in a 2D way was obviously an advantage, especially when dealing with interior designers. In or around 1966 I was asked to construct the interior of a fairly up-market restaurant in South Devon, and the interior designer who had come up with the initial sketches of the concept turned out to be a well-known and respected artist in his own right. Over a period of several months we established a working relationship that was built, I believe, on mutual respect for each other's skills. Over a liquid lunch one day he persuaded me to show him my sketchbook, and his encouragement and enthusiasm for what I had considered to be nothing exceptional gave me the confidence to show the work to others.
In 1970BC (Before Computers), at the age of 30, I gave up my career as a craftsman and took a place at St Luke's College (now part of Exeter University) to study for a teaching qualification in Fine Art. Times were hard; I was married, mortgaged and also had two young sons, so during the vacation periods I returned to my tools in an attempt to earn enough for the essentials the following term. (I haven't got the violin out yet.)
1972 saw me armed to the teeth with bits of paper saying that I was qualified to teach Fine Art, Mathematics (my second great enthusiasm), Music and Language. My first teaching post was at Dartington Primary School in Devon, where I was very fortunate to work with a very enlightened Head Teacher and the Chair of Governors, who was the founder of Dartington Hall and the Dartington College of Arts. These two gentlemen were very generous, in that they showed me, and developed my thinking about and understanding of, the way in which young people learn. I still have very strong views on that subject. Seven years later, after several moves and promotions, I became the Deputy Head of a fairly large primary school, with a brief of introducing and developing a style of education that developed the whole child, rather than the bits that could be tested.
My artwork at this time was again put on the back-burner, but my interest in photography took off. I was a member of a very enthusiastic photographic society, and my skills and knowledge of composition and tonal values etc. were soon put to good use as a speaker and judge.
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River Teign, South Devon
This painting is an exercise in composition and aerial perspective (i.e. the misty appearance of the trees in the background). The colour of the boat emphasises the focal point of the painting. |
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Click the image to view a larger version • Artwork copyright © David Cowell |
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In 1988, my two-year secondment having been stretched a little, along with four other forward-thinking members of the advisory team I saw the birth of the Babbage Centre, on the Dartington Estate. The wheel had turned full circle. The Babbage Centre soon became known in the West Country and beyond for its creative approach to IT, running courses for teachers in Devon and from other parts of the UK. The first so-called Art course for IT was organised and run from this centre in the latter part of that year. I was now in a fortunate position, surrounded by like-minded people, with access to the latest technology, and a technician who was second to none; he could achieve the impossible, providing that he was kept well supplied with fresh coffee and the occasional home-made pasty! During this time my relationship with the Acorn platform was reinforced: the ease of use, the available software and the reliability of the hardware outshone the other systems in the centre. I have remained committed to RISC OS ever since.
By now my techniques in producing digital paintings had developed enough for the output to be framed and displayed around the walls of the teaching rooms, and on several occasions I was asked if they could be purchased by members of various IT and Curriculum courses. My work was being valued, which was a great feeling. At the same time, I was approached by a few software developers to contribute my thoughts and ideas to the programs that they wanted to create. From these liaisons came PrimeArt, developed by Minerva and still used today by some. Probably the biggest breakthrough for me as a painter and photographer was the release of Photodesk. All of my paintings and photo-paintings are created in this software and then transferred to canvas as a monoprint (i.e. a 'one-off').
In 1992 I was invited to display my work in a local gallery, which I did. It was this first exhibition that opened my eyes to the resistance, from other artists using conventional media, to digital painting. Some of the remarks were caustic to say the least; I have probably been accused of "button-pushing" and "cheating" more times than Chancellor Brown has said "prudent"! These arguments still persist among many, often encouraged by vested interests and, I think, through a lack of understanding of the process. What really bothers me is that, to many, the process is more important than the result. I continue to try to educate, to open eyes and minds to the possibilities through talks to art societies and workshops during my exhibitions: so I'm 'still pushing the elephants'!
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Breaking Dawn
Here I have tried to give the viewer the impression of the early water vapour ascending from the river and the rising sun hitting the buildings. |
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Click the image to view a larger version • Artwork copyright © David Cowell |
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Have you ever wondered what goes on inside the head of an artist, especially those who make you work to find the message? My problem-solving activities tend to appear in my head in pictorial form. Does a writer picture the words or hear them? Another thing that always seems so difficult for some people to understand is that my painting, although created on a computer screen, does not actually exist in the computer in the form that they see it. Try and explain that it exists as a series of numbers, or microscopic bits of magnetic material either standing up or lying down, and watch the haze appear in their eyes! I try to keep away from all that stuff. I have also developed amazingly swift feet when I am cornered by certain members of the public who want to discuss how many megahertz their machines run at, or what the latest piece of software does, that they got for nothing from the Internet. When asked what they do with the technology, they seem to suddenly develop the inability to speak in standard English. Perhaps I'm into my Victor Meldrew years.
So now you know where I'm coming from and, more to the point, where I've been. My studio is totally RISC OS-based, but, I hasten to add, not with high-powered gear; there isn't a StrongARM beast in the place. I'm not saying that I don't want one; what I am saying is that I don't need one. Most of the work I carry out, as already stated, is intended for galleries etc. The technology itself is not that important. What is important is that I have a system and the appropriate software that allows me to create the images and ideas in my head. In a sense, I suppose I am saying that I want a system that makes little demand on my technical knowledge, is reliable, and offers me an uncluttered thinking space. The Risc PC and Photodesk meet these requirements admirably.
I have used other systems. They seem to require me to have a brain the size of a planet; trying to work with the well-known and oft-quoted mainstream software is like walking through treacle. I work intuitively: I want to dip my brush in the virtual paint and make marks; I want to reach for a pair of scissors and cut a piece out. Photodesk is my chosen workspace (or did it choose me?). All artists have a favourite brush or palette, and most craftsman have a tool that is used by choice; what makes that selection or preference is hard to define. The chosen tool just feels right. My Risc PC falls into the same category. There are four RISC OS machines in my studio, one of which is used nearly 100% of the time. Why? Because it just feels comfortable. Everything about it is right; it's like an old pair of slippers that have seen better days but are still performing and fulfilling their requirements. I have used other platforms, and had a relationship with them; usually a frustrating one. I believe that all technology responds to the stress of the user. The number of times you get in your car, start up and go becomes a formality; the day will come, though, when you really need the vehicle and it will refuse to start. Technology strikes back...!
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Flamenco
This image is an attempt to capture the movement of a Flamenco dancer. The colours are chosen to aid the impression of heat etc. The suggested guitar player at the top-left is an anchor point for the viewer. |
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Click the image to view a larger version • Artwork copyright © David Cowell |
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A lot of nonsense is talked about the fading process of digital prints. I have images in my home that were painted some fourteen years ago and framed behind glass: they are as bright and clear today as when they were first produced. How do I know this? I have recently taken them out of their mounts and frames to change them to match the decor. "'Er indoors" insisted, and I could find no evident difference between the displayed part and the parts covered by the mount. These prints, by the way, were produced on an Integrex 132. Ink formulas have improved dramatically since then, but nevertheless I take great care in protecting my artwork for the sake of the purchaser. The two biggest problems with all printed matter is not so much the reaction to UV, but that of Ozone. This gas becomes more active, as do many, when subjected to heat. Prints displayed in a sunny position seem to fade quickly; this is probably due to the activity of Ozone, though UV does play a part. The second major factor in the deterioration of printed material is the substrate used. Cheap inkjet paper is a false economy. Why spend time and money on the best equipment and the creation of a masterpiece, then print onto a cheap substrate?
My work has been displayed in exhibitions, both here in the UK and in the USA. Many pieces have also won awards in open exhibitions. The resistance to digital painting is slowly breaking down, and I like to think that my writings, lectures, demonstrations and examples might have contributed to this. As a side-issue, I always take one of my Risc PC machines to demonstrations and I am always met with a barrage of questions regarding the ease of use of the software and hardware. Many people are surprised to see that I don't use the ubiquitous PC and Photoshop; most are not aware that RISC OS technology is available; there's something wrong somewhere! I do take great delight in showing off the attributes of this great system, and I refuse to bow to the god of Microsoft.
Back to the paintings. Each painting is a personal response to the things I feel and see around me, and for that reason only one example of a painting is ever produced, though I may return to the stimuli several time and paint a new image, or work new ideas into a previous response. I have included some examples of my work with this article, and I hope they will serve to inspire you to have a go yourself. If you are reading this article then you already have the right equipment, which is second to none. To help you even further, I have produced three commercial CD-ROM tutorials, which are available from Photodesk Ltd, and I have also written a series of articles in another RISC OS magazine, Acorn Publisher.
Reading back through this article, I am struck with its similarity with an episode of Time Team. So much found, so much excitement at discovering new things, so much more digging to be done and so much undiscovered. Perhaps in a thousand years I will be dug up, clasping to what's left of my chest a CD-ROM and a pressure-sensitive stylus, which will wrongly be interpreted as a shield and a spear. And yet, they could be right; they are my weapons against the prejudice of unseeing and blinkered vision, and ears that are clogged by the incessant babble of the must-have world. It certainly has been worth taking the RISC.
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Impressions of Dallas
This image was painted from a series of sketches made in Dallas, Texas. I have tried to communicate to the viewer how small a human feels in this environment. The effect was an exercise in working in a quick and fluid way. The vehicle on the right of the painting has been put in to give some idea of the scale. |
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Click the image to view a larger version • Artwork copyright © David Cowell |
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All of the paintings were created in Photodesk with the aid of a Quorra pressure-sensitive stylus. All images are subject to copyright.