Across two large studios in an idyllic location in the heart of the East Sussex countryside, three contemporary artists share their unique take on abstraction. From expressionism to geometric, and utilising a range of techniques and mixed media, their work explores different styles and crosses over in unexpected ways.
Meet with and chat to the artists, view an exciting range of vibrant and thought provoking work, and soak up the calm and creative atmosphere of this unique corner of Sussex.
Original artwork for sale at varying prices, along with affordable prints and cards. Browsers also welcome!
Chris Mansell MA
Chris Mansell graduated with a masters from the Royal College of Art. His abstract paintings combine painterly techniques with printing, and play with both minimalism and expressionism. Having worked for many years as a technician in a number of arts institutions, his deep knowledge of techniques gives depth and integrity to his work.
“I suppose I have been, mainly, influenced by the painterly abstractionists, like De Kooning and Rothko, but my favourite work still decorates the cave walls at Altamira and Chauvet. I will never tire of looking at these images from 35,000 years ago which are still as sophisticated as anything which has happened since.”
Although working largely within the abstract aesthetic, there are many underlying themes and inspirations behind Myers’ work. Interests in literature, psychology and conceptual art combine with a passion for colour, shape and the exploration of composition to create works which are both visually stimulating as well as being an expression of concept.
Spray paints, acrylics, emulsions, marker pen, and other mixed media combine to create impactful contemporary abstract paintings.
Abi Myers graduated with a BA Fine Art from Portsmouth University in 2003. Alongside her own artistic practice she assists other artists and arts institutions.
Armitage has been working as a professional artist and illustrator for several decades, and the relationship he has built up over time with this most primary of artistic mediums has been a balance, with Armitage mastering the use of colour and mark, whilst accepting his part as slave to the medium, inviting accidents as part of the creative process.
Both abstract and more figurative works are inspired by various sources, including travels to other countries, shrines, landscapes, people and tragedy. Large scale colour-scapes are his metier, but he is also finding ways in which to distill the same energy, space and depth into smaller scale works.
Armitage has received much critical acclaim for both his painting and illustrative works, and has exhibited both nationally and internationally.
The exhibition runs as part of Lewes Artwave Festival 2018. There are many other open studios nearby, please see their website for details, trails and maps.
Open daily from 18 August – 2 September, 11am – 5pm. Free entry. All welcome. There are no stairs, but the ground is uneven in parts. Purchases by cash / cheque.
The idea of ‘death being a good career move’ struck a chord with Mumbles.
In a bizarre dream, with his cat (and confidant) Trevor, he came up with a cunning plan.
Perhaps a virtual death?
d r e a m m u s i c…
Dawn. Washes of candy floss pink and Naples yellow caress the Eastern sky.
Jarring black contrast. Trevor sits atop the winged figure on the bonnet of the Silver Ghost.
He sports his black top hat, Stokely shades, black cane and gloves. Sits statue like, beside himself with grief, but set of his jaw Sherman square. Cortège solemnly glides through Polegate.
Turnout of local marching girls astonishing. Palpable deep grief. Trev tips the cane to acknowledge. The Uckfield Silver Band plays ‘Waltzing Matilda’, a ditty that needs no tuning and certainly didn’t profit from any here.
The splendid procession arrives at the Eastbourne Crematorium. Hushed silence as Trev stands beside the coffin. Coffin is bedecked with a tapestry depicting the heroes of the Tasmanian Artists Rifles Battalion.
Inside, the Crematorium groaned with the tear- stained great and good.
After stumbling over Daniel, Donald, Ronda eventually got to ‘David’ in a reminiscence that was a monument to brevity.
Trev stiffened. His Eulogy was a minute away. He shuffled his notes. Then, he became dimly aware of someone moving in to sit beside him. God, he stank. A horrendous cocktail of BO, Cutters choice roll-ups and over oaked Rioja. A halitosis laden breath engulfed Trev. This stuff would have burnt the paint off a German Battle cruiser.
It was Mumbles! ‘What the xxxx is goin on Trev? Who is the dude in the box? He looks as square as Queen Anne. Mumbles went on…
‘I come in here every day to get warm….about every hour or so it heats up nicely…’ Trev was incredulous.
‘Where is your earring?…’ said Trev…. and then his jaw dropped. ‘You haven’t got a left ear either, what the hell have you done?!’
‘I thought it was a good career move’, came the feeble reply. ‘Besides, I can listen to your terrific eulogy with my other ear……CAN’T WAIT!…..’
Mumbles awoke with both ears intact.
Just sent these off to the printers, narrowly avoiding a typo on the final proof! Phew!
Please don’t tell me there are any others… it’s too late!!
Primary school jogged along quite merrily. Caning was commonplace, pastoral care thinnish. But we did learn. The star of the show was the ‘times table’ lessons (up to 12) whereby the head teacher had a primitive but effective closed circuit classroom audio system so that the whole school had tables drill straight after breakfast.
This rote learning, to me at least, has lasted 70 years. Sticking to the brief and general orthodoxy was encouraged. Any deviation (such as when I found copying a prescribed pedestrian rendering of a ship could not compare with my Johnny Depp piratical galleon), was not tolerated.
The correction cane was produced. I saw the error of my ways, and resolved to change the error, not my ways.
Secondary school could have been done locally, but it was commonplace in those days, and probably still is, for country kids to be shunted off to boarding school in the bigger cities. Thus it was. There are some kids , particularly the introspective ones , who should never be made to do this. Communal living was abhorrent, the hand me down English public school hierarchy, complete with prefects and duxes and house masters and matrons, head boys and girls and vast mahogany panels crammed with acres of gilt lettering naming the great and the good, was hugely destabilising. One suddenly realises that there are hoards of people you really don’t want to know about. Ever. How I hated it.
Love appeared in a strange guise at about this time. Her name was Adelaide, or more precisely, Queen Adelaide claret. She had more tannins than an Indian tea plantation, and feeble fruit, but notwithstanding that, the door she unlocked is still wide open.
The joys of a solitary life were made manifest during the 1956 Olympics. Those parents who could raise the wind sent their little darlings off to Melbourne for a week, slightly lesser mortals had a range of outings offered, and I was the only child left in the whole school for the duration. The school must have loved this, I know I did.
My school report linked ones attainments by a simple graph joining up the ‘score’ dots on one axis against the range of subjects on the other. Result: smart kids got a profile rather like that of the Himalayan peaks. I flat lined down in the foothills, littered with C’s D’s and E’s…. Highly amusing reading for my grandson.
Only one comment was in any way prescient ‘Has a deep interest in art and music’.
At least I persevered in Maths, Physics, Chemistry and something else to get my A levels. Yet, there was one sign of enlightenment. In my final year when I was given the nod to attend evening art classes at the local ‘Tech’. Thank God.
At last another door had opened. Praise be the Lord.
Changes to information… keep scrolling for the important bits!
Glyndebourne Festival Gallery is open to Festival ticket holders only.
You can visit my studio at any time by appointment,
email: email@example.com or call: 01825 873477
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