Claire de Mortimer Painting

I’ve made a Facebook page just for my paintings.

A like, follow and share will be greatly appreciated. Thank you.


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On Self Promotion. How do you do it?

On Self Promotion.

I was thinking about a post that I put up on Linkedin yesterday. Re-reading it today, it sounds blunt and lacks any poetry.

So I want to improve how I promote myself. How do you do? I went to a seminar given by Faye Smith at Sheffield Hallam University in Marketing and felt awkward talking about what I’ve accomplished and where my work is now shown. I’ve had similar discussion with Lesley Black. Is it a matter of practise? Or something else?

How do you do it?Christmas card 2016 GSA choir


Magister Litterarum, Merit. Glasgow School of Art.

Yesterday was the closing of the show. Some dear friends came to make the closing of the M.Litt Graduate degree show, Glasgow School of Art, 2016 special. Alice and Allan brought purple plastic Martini glasses and a bottle of bubbly. We toasted the paintings, the friends, the institution, the building and the show as I turned off the lights as we talked out.

Today is results day!

I passed with Merit. MERIT from Glasgow School of Art!


Detail. ‘That river is as aged as dark port’.

A Tale of Metaphor as Material.

Metaphor as Materials


I have not lost my metaphor

I am just finding it

It’s in my bones

suck the marrow:

spit it out;




Pictures within pictures.

Frames of intimacies.


The ambassadors of our frontiers are not our statesmen

But our prospectors

Dug dynanite dredged

I am the law

Dust to dust

Lindal Moor’s raw ore

Shipped to Bonawe

Slipped into reduction

Not with Quaker Coke’s efficiency

but exhumed trees.


What greater way to supplicate a nation

than through the consumption of its chattel.

Having exhausted his native Lancastrian trees,

Frustrated by their lack of fecundity,

he slipped into that other union with a dowry of trees.

The forest had no escape.

Forced into marital rape.

Consummated in fire, a funeral pyre.

All that green reduced to black

Where should we wear our cross on that Jack?


Men in furnaces need their beer

Highland water tasted too queer

They brought the seeds that remain as Betty’s hops.

No flowers as it’s not too hot.


What was the ballast that those Lancastrian ships took back?

It was the body of Bonawe mountains themselves

Strong evenly fragmented

Perfect for cobbles

Pretender of Tar Macadam


Bellicose Britain’s Bonawe baked canon balls

That Slag burnt to heat to pig iron.

Franc-allies of Jacobites drowned.

A cannibalization of its once allies.



Let us discuss this in the age of reason not treason

Let us define a man’s work, his property as secular not sacred.


Rio Tinto Alcan have the world, they are the world

Australia, China, Canada and Brazil have Alumina.

That river is as dark as an aged port

Whisky ages in port casks

Japanese whisky from Lidl is cheaper


Vassal of water, of captured latency of Treig, Spean and Spey

Captive hope, latent hope

Flowing not free, dialed to fleetingly heat hot air.

Count this point of refraction and reduction

Captivating heat as pressure

Sintered aluminum cinders

Smelted ore frames the shadow of the

old God man mountain to tèarnadh his wife

the wind frame capture rapture


Of course it is the last that is most deadly

Scotland to a T

Forrest comminuted Tennets gold in cycanide

Those triple bonds waiting and wanting to fuse with our flesh.

Bayer Boyles Hall, Heroult Deville, Soderberg,

MacArthur and Forrest are long since dead.


The names of those scientists, the spare heir, the non apparents

Eponymous names of diseases suffered

inflicted on the stratified animals.

Bayer Boyles Bauxite

Alumina Gibbsite Boehmite Diaspore


Aluminium as beautiful as the wooded glens once were.

Soft skin of youthfull irridescent purity

Seduction of surface.


Scientific developments the later part of the 19th century

allowed painters to have

Vivid, light fast colours.

What was once Lapzi is now sodium aluminium silicate

Red iron oxide gives English red, the colour of Argylls rust.

Reassuringly, lamp gas is the soot of petrified trees.


My beloved translucent turquoise cyan cyanide

Hedbridean seas, Lorn and Awe

Let me hex phthalo triplet around the floor

A reel of what name?

The wheel of all our life

Blood’s heam and chlorphyll’s green.


Extruded from Aluminium.

Extruded from metal

Mixed poured brushed dropped cajoled

Sits vulnerable in its refined state

the hidden material latent memory.

Slow thought stops

Revealed slope intent and sag

Slipped silently sideways

Like all good oil redundant to perfection


Dust sticks to the apparent slick surface

brighter and more saturated

Revealed by great transparency

the action of light

The sun keeps giving.


The monoculture that is the forestry plantation drowns the land

burns in its acid sterility.

Decorative deciduous borders do to not fool animals.


Funded by feudal centuries.

The same people that drew down that asset,

profited from that original sin that union

the devalued fettered thistle

Hunts shoots balls reels wait as their assets grow.

Trusts pays less dues to their Crown.

This slip still stays distilled.


Are we enlightened now?

Product, commodity

Futures never restore hope but apparent empires

Domains never return satiated sanity

But meters and packing

Desire is fire

And so we return to trees.

I have been many things to many people.

What do they call me now?


Metaphor as Material. Material as Metaphor. Part II.

In Part I of ‘Metaphor as Material. Material as Metaphor’ I’ve talked about choosing the material of the painting to be the metaphor of the subject matter. In Part I  was using watercolour, ink and gouache on paper with hand made native wood frames to explore the temporally of trees. Not only in the seasons, but within the geopolitics of  Scotland and the early formation of the United Kingdom.

Here, in Part II of ”Metaphor as Material. Material as Metaphor’ I’ve taken that same idea that the materials and the process of making the paintings are in keeping with topic. The topic here is still landscape and Scotland, but on a bigger scale. The large employers in Argyll, Scotland are now the multi-national giants. The land is owned by Trusts and the Hedge funds. Such is the result that no one individual is responsible for the land or for the people who have lived on the land for centuries. As I write this, I am aware of the seduction that making money has, of the challenges that it presents to ones authenticity and being in the world. I  pay into a UK Civil Service pension but have no idea what they money is invested in and how they in turn treat landscapes. I am minded of the anthropologist Michael Taussig essay ‘ The Sun gives without receiving’ in his book
Walter Benjamin’s Grave. (Chicago Press, 2006.)  In this essay the tale of awesomely scaled consumeristic enterprise is endowed with the ability to destroy life as well as bestow riches. Taussig reminds us that it is a materialist knowledge that offers a crucial alternative to the increasingly abstract, globalized, homogenized, and digitized world we inhabit.

For these painting I’ve worked on a larger scale and with oil paint on aluminium. What better way to express the notions of the multinational than with oil. I used the same process of making the paintings that is analogous to the formation of landscapes. The paintings are one metre squared. The aluminium has a beautiful fine grain and a subtle iridescence. They are seductive and sit somewhere between abstract and expressionist landscape, but take the form of figurative painting.

I have used the same pigments as in Part I ‘Metaphor as Material. Material as Metaphor’ on paper and translated the idea into oil paint. These are turquoise, ultramarine, London red, lemon yellow. I have substituted the watercolour lamp black for oil Madder. Oil paint uses the same chemical pigments to watercolour but oil uses different resin and mediums to suspend the colours. The colours and mediums form sedimentary layers and interact with each other and the aluminium to become something other than what they started as.

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