I imagine that computer-aided design has dealt some hefty blows to the French Curve manufacturing industry. However, I never saw a computer program as decorative as a well-made wooden set of French Curves.
Good word ‘crockery’; it sounds exactly like the thing it denotes.
Instead of watching Farmer wants a wife on television, I made this copy of a still life by Felix Valloton. I learned a lot from doing it. I also decided that if I ever need to be reminded of the fragility of life, I just need to paint a picture of a piece of fine china. I am so easily distracted when washing dishes and – because distracted – clumsy, that no piece of crockery lasts long in our house.
My daughter was puzzled about why I had apparently set up my studio to celebrate a religious sacrament. I suppose in a way painting a still life is a form of meditation … and you get a souvenir painting when it is over.
I would like to say I carefully planned the composition for this still life. I really would. But it would be a lie. It started as a simple painting of a bottle of chllli oil: I liked the colour. It looked lonely, so I added the coffee pot. Then it looked unbalanced, so I added the ivy. Then it lacked something in the foreground, so I added the mustard pot. Then it needed something shiny to balance the coffee pot, so I inserted a sugar bowl. Finally, why not just chuck in orchid?
It has sat on a bookshelf for some years, is coated in a fine velvety coat of dust, and has never sailed anywhere.
Phil McAloon's paintings 