Croak Room, 2020
Oil on canvas
76cm x 102cm x 6cm
The painting depicts a White’s tree frog as a reference to my childhood during which my father used to collect and breed frogs. I have painted a section of the frame with a striking matte black enamel paint following the horizon line within the image, giving a feeling of looking through a window or into a vitrine; there is a physical sense of being brought into the scene through its expansion over the frame.
One of my earliest memories is of sitting down for dinner and noticing a frog had escaped from its vitrine, it sat in the doorway watching us eat. I remember feeling uneasy about the animal for the first time, experiencing disgust and fear of the confidence of the amphibian; I was made uncomfortable by its suddenly unprotected proximity. It wasn’t until later in life when I had digested this memory that I found it was much more formative to my art practice than I had yet recognised.
I’ve since found similarities within the Seamus Heaney poem ‘Death of a Naturalist’, the piece details fear felt by the writer when he descended on an army of bullfrogs in a childhood experience:
'The slap and plop were obscene threats. Some sat
Poised like mud grenades, their blunt heads farting.
I sickened, turned, and ran. The great slime kings
Were gathered there for vengeance and I knew
That if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it.'
Oil on canvas
9 Artist Reviews
£1,400.95 Sold
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Croak Room, 2020
Oil on canvas
76cm x 102cm x 6cm
The painting depicts a White’s tree frog as a reference to my childhood during which my father used to collect and breed frogs. I have painted a section of the frame with a striking matte black enamel paint following the horizon line within the image, giving a feeling of looking through a window or into a vitrine; there is a physical sense of being brought into the scene through its expansion over the frame.
One of my earliest memories is of sitting down for dinner and noticing a frog had escaped from its vitrine, it sat in the doorway watching us eat. I remember feeling uneasy about the animal for the first time, experiencing disgust and fear of the confidence of the amphibian; I was made uncomfortable by its suddenly unprotected proximity. It wasn’t until later in life when I had digested this memory that I found it was much more formative to my art practice than I had yet recognised.
I’ve since found similarities within the Seamus Heaney poem ‘Death of a Naturalist’, the piece details fear felt by the writer when he descended on an army of bullfrogs in a childhood experience:
'The slap and plop were obscene threats. Some sat
Poised like mud grenades, their blunt heads farting.
I sickened, turned, and ran. The great slime kings
Were gathered there for vengeance and I knew
That if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it.'
Oil on canvas
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