The coming of foxgloves
In the mountains of Wales where I’ve lived for the past few years, much of the conifer forestry has been felled. It’s amazing to watch how the foxgloves appear, year on year, the seeds presumably having lain dormant for the thirty odd years the trees have shaded the forest floor; hot pink taking the place of the sombre green. The first year after felling, just the clumps of green leaves appear, the following year the flowers come, which turns the hills a smudgy pink, even at a distance. Each year the pinkness increases in intensity.
“I worked much scraping, smudging and layering, the pink gathering in intensity with each layer, just like the foxgloves. ”
I was inspired to make a painting that reflected this and I worked with successive layers of alizarin crimson and quinacridone magenta. For me, Hookers Green sums up the shade of the remaining fir trees, and contrasts delightfully with the pinks. I worked much scraping, smudging and layering, the pink gathering in intensity with each layer, just like the foxgloves.
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