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Artist Studio Talk

Featured Artist: Fergus Channon


"This body of work is an investigation into how I can control and manipulate the properties of distemper. Some are continuously cracking whilst others have been fixed through the removal of the distemper leaving purely the tattooed cracks absorbed by the canvas. The process has proven to be very generous." - Fergus Channon

Distemper & Oil on canvas 85cm x 116cm

Distemper & Oil on canvas 85cm x 116cm

Distemper & Oil on canvas 85cm x 116cm

Distemper on canvas 85cm x 116cm


" The day is done. Yet again I turn off the evening, pour myself a glass of water and glare as I stare back at myself and see the passing of time. I draw the curtains shut and the room softly glows. Bed calls as does my love.An embrace, intimate and loving. I read her to sleep, my voice carrying her away. I read on, all that she hears is melding. Heartbeats and sonorous notes calling her deeper away. She shudders as she passes into the other side.I keep reading on until my eyes grow heavy. One shoulder, pillows soften, a roll, another shoulder. My thoughts spiral and jostle. My ears hum and my body enfolds around her. I fall. Safe, at peace. Another day.
It's dak still, she steals one last hold of me and then peels away. Time splinters, she comes and goes, tea is by my side, the curtains brightly pulled apart and I am kissed goodbye. The day is threatening, and I dream deeper still. I hold my warmth of the days potential and sip the last of the nights end.
Up and awakening. Thoughts collide as hot water steams and I submit to the day. Once dressed I raise my posture into the kitchen where I am welcomed by the gesture of love. The smallest most considered gift composed along the divisions of the dining table. A morning ritual to set the day in motion. I circle round the still life readying to breathe life into my eyes. Flicking through the multitude of vinyl I place the needle. No complacency lives in this. Only love and appreciation. I look, I lean, I eye up and select. I choose and I pull back the chosen chair. I reach and retrieve the paper, the tray of equipment and sit. The music plays, the water boils, I observe, I begin.
The pencil pulls its own course across the white and I watch as my hand leads my eye, their collaboration unfolds. The image develops like a photograph submerged. Each mark is truth, each pause essential. I’ve been here before,yesterday, and before. Each is unique, each is an offering. Time is slowed down to such clarity that the chosen sounds revolve in an eternity, coffee bubbles and drifts across like an onshore breeze. I place down the pencil and pour my thoughts into my cup.  Too hot, too soon, my hand moves on. I own this time like no other instance, I cut shadows that pull the illusion and fix it to the plane. I stand, assess and then slowly sub-consciously retrieve the rulethat completes with one definite line cutting through and under. The line that concludes. The coffee is cold.
Affixed, peeled off the block and laid down on top of the day before, safely placed in the box of accumulation. The day has begun. The morning awaits. Invigorated and charged. Observed and set." - Fergus Channon

Images: ©Fergus Channon, Courtesy of the Artist

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