Sheep surprise

One of the great things about going to new places is walking along the streets and popping into little shops and galleries. I find you discover some really fresh stuff that way, that you wouldn't otherwise notice.

Recently in Napier, I came across a small art gallery called Statements. Their featured exhibition was by an artist called Geoffrey Fuller. I had never heard of him, but I had half an hour to kill between appointments, and I am so glad I stepped inside his world!

The exhibition was called Ovine, so naturally it focused on sheep. As the bloke is a Hawke's Bay artist, there was also a recurring theme of vineyards. The lines and the striking structures of sheds and barns blend well with the woolly forms.



I have mentioned elsewhere on this blog my love of vineyards, but I may not have mentioned my affection for sheep - and no, that is not the main reason I have ended up in New Zealand, although it doesn't hurt.

I don't agree with the popular notion that sheep are stupid. They are certainly no less bright than cattle. They get to roam the countryside in some of the most beautiful parts of the country and they adapt their coat to keep out the rain and the worst of the inclement weather.

If you have ever got lost in the mist in the Lake District, you will thankfully follow a sheep-track, safe in the knowledge that you are not going to plummet over a crag even if you can't see your hand in front of your face. In fact some people are starting to disprove this limited intelligence theory.

My mother maintains that my first word was 'sheep' - after 'mummy' and 'daddy', surely? Apparently my brother's first word was 'car', so I am clearly far more environmentally friendly. There is no family lore about what my sisters' first words were (I would guess at shoes and compass - if you know them, you'll know which is which!)

Anyway, retournon a nos moutons, as the French say (quite appropriately in this case I feel), Geoffrey Fuller's pictures of sheep cover all seasons. He also uses a variety of mediums, including working on a surface on corrugated iron which gives texture and atmosphere.

One of my favourites was a collage called One for Sorrow which depicted a magpie plucking out the eye of a sheep carcass. I know this sounds hideously gruesome, but it was a collage of materials and had a startlingly simple affect. I can't find an image of it to post here, so you may just have to take my word for it. Or find an exhibition of Geoffrey Fuller's work and go and see for yourself!