Let it Grow - contemporary botanical paintings
- Rebecca Vincent
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
In a previous post, I shared the early stages of creating these A1-size paintings, and now I’m delighted to show you the finished results. One piece fell by the wayside, but four made it through to completion, and I’m very excited to have finished my first large-scale paintings on wood panels.
As you may know, I’ve been a printmaker for 30 years, specialising in monotype and etching during both my first degree at the Ruskin School of Art and my Master of Fine Art at Newcastle University. Although I sampled painting as a student, it’s only in the last three years that I’ve focused on developing my skills in acrylic paint and mixed media, and on finding a clear direction for my own subject matter and style.
Until now, my work has been on a smaller scale while I practised and experimented, but there’s something about working large that really stretches an artist, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the challenge. I know many artists work much bigger than A1 (approximately 59 × 84 cm), but this feels like a significant leap for me. Who knows — perhaps I’ll be tackling three-metre paintings in the future!
In the past, I’ve used strong paper as my painting surface, largely because I’ve always had so much of it in my studio. Recently, though, I’ve fallen in love with these wood panels, which are about 2 cm deep. Their smooth, rigid surface doesn’t move or buckle, and they’re easy to handle and to work right up to the edges. I also like the fact that they can be hung unframed or with a floating frame that doesn’t require glass - there’s nothing between you and the paint. I protect the surface with four layers of varnish, making the paintings resilient and wipeable.
The subject matter for these paintings grows out of my love of flowers and seed heads — both British wildflowers and their more flamboyant garden cousins. I’m especially drawn to seeing them in early morning or low evening light, when they become almost otherworldly in their incandescent glow. Their complexity and luminous colour are things I continually wrestle with, trying different approaches to capture what matters most to me about them and the sense of awe they inspire.
I didn’t begin with a fixed composition in mind, instead starting with broad areas of colour and more accidental marks, then following where they led, guided by a loose subject idea. For the first painting, I wanted a natural palette that referenced the coast. Once the horizon line was established, everything began to flow, and this mass of tangled seaside plants seemed to grow almost of its own accord. The teasels connect back to drawings I made over the winter, working from photographs taken in our garden and allotment. These slides (above) show the different stages of making At the Water's Edge:
Indian Summer and At the Water’s Edge both began with textured surfaces created using various acrylic modelling pastes. I rubbed paint into the grooves — rather like inking an etching — to create foreground interest and suggest vegetation without having to draw every individual stem.
For Indian Summer, I used a warm palette, with chalky greens to complement the reds and oranges. The sunlight pouring through the plants is something I’m well practised at depicting, having often explored low light in my monotypes. The plant forms themselves, however, were new territory. I used a combination of stencils and hand painting with different brushes. Over time I’ve built up quite a wide collection, which allows me to make varied marks and shapes, much as you might in watercolour or Chinese brush painting. I enjoyed the directness of this approach compared with collage, which can be very effective but is also quite labour-intensive.
These slides show the different stages of making Indian Summer
I’ve always loved the spherical heads of ornamental onions (alliums), whether in flower or as seed heads, and I keep a few dried examples in my studio for inspiration. For Heads in the Sun, I combined fine pencil lines with more fluid paint to suggest their complexity without becoming too literal. The flowing leaves were painted with a new square-ended brush, which I could use in a calligraphic way. The thicker stems are collaged, using painted scraps left over from a previous project.
These slides show the different stages of making Heads in the Sun
The backgrounds for Whispering Light and Heads in the Sun were particularly enjoyable to create. I worked quickly at first, laying down bold sweeps of colour, then built up layers using sprayed and splattered colour. Tissue paper collage introduced repeating patterns, which I then integrated with further painting and drawing, allowing the work to unfold in a playful, intuitive way. I tried to preserve areas of empty space rather than filling every inch, so that there would still be a sense of light.
I love the variety within Whispering Light, where some leaves and flowers are drawn and others painted. The Rosebay Willowherb (also known as Fireweed) provides a small but vivid punch of colour and detail. It’s a plant I’ve returned to several times now, and one I’ve learned to draw and paint with growing confidence. The slides below show the stages of creating Whispering Light
These contemporary botanical paintings are available for sale. Please get in touch by email at info@rebecca-vincent.co.uk or by phone/text on 07717 256169 to reserve a piece or to discuss framing options. I’m also happy to send additional photographs for your consideration. The panels are fitted with D-rings and string and are ready to hang unframed, so a frame isn’t essential, though they do look rather smart framed. An example in dove grey is shown here, but other colours are available.
If you’d like to learn more about my process and be among the first to see new work, please sign up for my email newsletter below or via the pop-up sign-up form.
