The Cornish landscape inspires artists and creatives in many ways; some directly, some less obviously. Cornish artist Saul Cathcart is an abstract painter who prefers to paint “en plein air” [outside, in the landscape], letting the views of the coast inspire him but not seeking to recreate them on the canvas. For Cathcart, the feelings that the scenes in front of him trigger are fuel for the colours and shapes that he lays down on his canvases.
“I paint landscapes in abstraction because it’s not just visual, it’s the full experience. If you’re engaged with your surroundings then it’s not just purely what’s in front of you. I love being outside so much, and seeing the waves roll in. I get a buzz from that I guess, and it all feeds into the work. It’s an emotive thing.”
Cathcart grew up in North Cornwall, on the edge of Bodmin Moor and not far from where the Coast Creative Workshop is located. He now lives further west, on the coast between St Ives and Newquay where the cliffs and coves offer him a multitude of vantage points from which to paint.
“I don’t want to sit in a studio. I had a studio for a year and I enjoyed it and it felt different and new, and a great experiment, but it wasn’t me. I was just this nutter in a box.”
Abstract works by their very nature are not literal or realistic representations of what the artist sees. As Saul sits on the cliff he takes in the scene before him, looking up frequently or often making marks whilst observing what’s in front of him rather than looking at what he is doing. He is guided by feeling and instinct. His choice of colours are the same; he may be subconsciously referencing the colour of a car he passed in the car park or of a surfboard in some of his choices, but it is not conscious or apparent. Often, the reason for his marks and choices only reveal themselves to him later.
“I have this love for colour. I don’t want to be scared of my brain telling me that I can’t do something just because it doesn’t make sense. So I’m constantly asking myself, “Why are you using this, you can’t see red,” but I don’t want to shy away from the potential of listening to what my heart is telling me. It could present its meaning months later when I’m looking at it in a gallery and I go “Ah! That’s why!” but I want to feel it and make it and not question it in the moment.”
“I often ask myself why am I not painting just what I see? It’s weird. I’m always questioning why I do this. But I don’t want to just document what is in front of me, I don’t want to make a record, I don’t want to copy it. I want to somehow channel it and let the canvas process it and let the canvas speak.”
These are the same sorts of questions that people often ask of abstract art. Because they are not literally representative of a subject, they have to be interpreted. Cathcart remarks on this that, from his experience talking to visitors at shows and galleries, people are often challenged by abstract art. It is a mirror on themselves, and people often fear “not getting it”. But by asking viewers what they like or don’t like about a piece, or telling them where he was when he painted it – the view, the weather, and so on – people study each piece in more detail. They look a little deeper, and not at themselves but at the work.
“Other artists understand how hard it is to not be too literal. Every artist wants to step back from being too literal, but it’s hard to do because our brains kick in.”
With landscape paintings that are more traditional representations of a scene, there is more of a defined endpoint; a moment at which the work is more or less complete. That is not necessarily the case with abstract paintings.
“I’m fascinated with that. The game for the artist is where to stop. It’s always that way, because a lot of people over-tinker, and then you lose a certain energy or spark from a piece. I do value keeping the work fresh and not overworking it, but when to call a painting done changes from piece to piece.”
He goes on to explain the gambling game with abstract paintings developed by layering shapes and colours. By painting over a part of a painting that already looks nice, it could be ruined or it could unlock something new and exciting. There is a constant curiosity to see what might be.
“I’ve got so much emotion inside of me. It’s unreal. I can’t express it fully without using mad bright colours. It’s not me if it’s not about colour. I want to be authentic to myself. I don’t want my brain to kick in and tell me I can’t do something. This is about being free and experimental, because life doesn’t allow you to do that very often. This is one of the last places that I’ve found where you can just do what you want with total freedom.”
Saul Cathcart has an annual residency on Tresco in the Isles of Scilly, and frequently exhibits his work at St Ives’ famous Crypt Gallery, amongst others. He can often be spotted just off the coast path between Porthtowan and Godrevy with his large box of canvases and backpack full of paints, channelling the energy of the Cornish coast into his colourful works.
You can follow Saul on Instagram here.