Andrew Cowdell, Snow at Hermitage, 2018

Andrew Cowdell, Snow at Hermitage, 2018, oil on board, 10 x 8 inches

My low-key paintings are defined by their subdued tones and colour mixtures that tend towards neutral browns, greens and greys. They seem a natural progression from my earlier monochrome works and allow me to explore the possibilities of a limited palette. It is precisely these sober tones which propel these landscapes into the gloomy, contradictory universe of romanticism. This of course makes sense as they bear witness to my admiration for Corot, Courbet and Friedrich. It is possibly my preoccupation with 19th Century painting that is somehow channelling timelessness into these paintings. They are imbued with a quality which seems to owe very little to our present epoch and, on reflection, these landscapes are totally devoid of people. It may well suggest that our information age is enticing people away from nature. However, I think nature will cope.

Gustave Doré, Sister of Charity Saving a Child, Episode in the Siege of Paris, 1871

Gustave Doré, Sœur de la Charité sauvant un enfant, 1871, 38 x 51 inches

Gustave Doré's engravings won him worldwide recognition as one of the foremost illustrators of his time and yesterday at Tate Britain we were given a rare opportunity to stand nose to canvas with this fine example of his oil painting. The scene shows the awful human cost of the siege of Paris, when the French capital was encircled by Prussian troops after Napoleon III's surrender on 2 September 1870. Whilst other artists fled, Doré joined the National Guard to defend the capital. Here, painting that winter, he seems to be recording a scene that he had actually witnessed. He shows a nun carrying a child to safety along a snowy blood-stained street, by a wall which might belong to the religious house where she hopes to take the child. A part of the city burns behind her, and someone sprawls wounded on the pavement further back. Ahead of her, a jagged piece of shrapnel lies on the snow, and at the side is a large bloodstain. The painting showcases Doré's unique vision as both fine artist and illustrator.

Andrew Cowdell, Oiseau de Dieu (Wren), 2018

Andrew Cowdell, Oiseau de Dieu (Wren), 2018, oil on board, 7 x 5 inches

In Normandy, the wren could be called Oiseau de Dieu (Bird of God). People believed that this bird was present at the birth of Christ, and brought moss and feathers to form a coverlet for the Holy Child. In other parts of the world, the wren was also regarded as a symbol of wisdom and divinity. The spotting of a wren could be taken as a sign that the beholder would be blessed with inner knowledge during the coming year. Finding a creature so small and camouflaged in its habitat was a metaphor for finding the elusive divinity within all life.
We are lucky enough to have a wren who is a regular visitor to our garden. When I spy this tiny creature bobbing between flower pots in pursuit of insects, I too pause to reflect on the wren's secretive life which so often goes unnoticed.

Andrew Cowdell, Abandoned paintings

Half-finished canvases by Andrew Cowdell

These abandoned canvases are reminders of moments when, for whatever reasons, my vision was racing ahead of execution. During these times fears arise - is it a good composition? will it be worth the time or the effort? who will appreciate it? But what separates artists from ex-artists is that those who challenge their fears, continue; those who don't, quit. I have since acknowledged that vision is always ahead of execution, mastery of materials is my only contact with reality, and uncertainty is a virtue.