HISTORY & BACKGROUND

Born in Skipton, North Yorkshire in 1932, I attended Ermysted’s Grammar School, and from the age of 13 the Royal Naval College, Dartmouth.
 

In the Royal Navy I specialized as a hydrographic surveyor and worked in the North Sea and the waters off Scotland’s Western Isles as well as Tanzania, Kenya, the Seychelles, New Zealand, Fiji and other islands in the South Pacific.

In 1965 I retired in the rank of Lt. Commander and became a lecturer in hydrographic surveying at North East London Polytechnic. During this time I wrote two surveying textbooks and my work took me on further travels to Canada, Brazil, USA, Europe and South Africa.

From my boyhood days I have never been without a pencil, pen and/or paintbrush to hand, and my painting hobby developed in tandem with my day time work, so much so, that by 1984 I was able to leave the academic world, settle in beautiful Gloucestershire, and turn to painting full-time. Throughout the 1980’s I successfully exhibited my works at the Granby Gallery and pursued my publishing ambitions in cards, calendars and prints. In 1989 I approached the Halcyon Gallery and its publishing company, Washington Green. My first limited edition prints, Easter Miracle and November Skies were published in 1990, and at the time of writing, my limited editions number over 70. My greatest personal satisfaction came with the publication in 1996 of my book ‘Under a Watercolor Sky’, which contains some of my best work.

IDEAS & INSPIRATIONS

You could be forgiven for thinking that a life so closely linked to the oceans would have little to do, not only with painting, but painting the English countryside scenes that I am known for. The truth, however, is quite different. My career as a surveyor was occupied, at sea, gathering the water depths and the positions of rocks and reefs and, in harbor, drawing up the data for their eventual publication as Admiralty charts. All the cartographic work was done by hand in those pre-computer days.

The fact that I spent so much time away from home only served to foster an abiding love for the scenery, light and atmosphere of England, and a yearning to be there. It was from this that I developed an eye for the form and beauty of nature, and a hand to depict it in the most faithful manner. This, along with my natural flair for art, made it inevitable that I should turn to landscape painting.
 

At a more prosaic level, no painting ever matches the hopes and plans I hatch for it at the outset, so my inspiration could be said to stem from a doomed, but real determination

FROM PALETTE TO PICTURE

I like to work on the roughest, heaviest watercolor paper, always pre-stretched and often at the full imperial size.

Although I studied the so-called ‘proper way’ to paint a long time ago, I have since evolved into the artist that I now am – a faithful follower of the late, great water-colorist Rowland Hilder, yet perversely, having an obsession with detail. I spend all the time necessary to prepare the subject, including the selection of references for skies, lighting and composition. I sketch to quite a detailed degree at small scale before scaling up to finished size – all of which is done in pencil. The aim is to have a carefully drawn image on paper before applying masking and paint. This can often take up to a week or more after initially deciding on my subject.
 

Having reached this stage, I then transform from draughtsman to artist. While always attempting to get everything – colour, texture and tonal value, right first time, I nevertheless end up re-working parts, correcting and, sometimes shamelessly abusing the paper with sandpaper, scalpel, cotton wool buds or sponges – anything to achieve the desired result.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ALAN INGHAM

All of my painting subjects are taken from real places and most are, hopefully, identifiable. Like many artists, I prefer to work in my studio rather than outdoors, where one is constantly distracted by insects, passing ramblers and, as often as not, a sprinkle from passing showers. I love my studio with my large draughtsman’s easel, precisely balanced lighting, Teflon coated 12-bun baking tin palette, umpteen brushes and utensil trolley. I adore the comforts of my swivel stool, hi-fi, computer and, on Grand Prix days, my TV. Therefore, a day in my life could simply be one of progressing a painting steadily in my studio. However, many more of my days, years even, are spent finding the reference material for my paintings.

Photography plays a large part in my artistic endeavors. I use it more for quantity than quality of reference material. I may paint directly from photographs occasionally – but only 'my' photographs of course. Combine photography with a thirst for ever-more subjects in ever-more types of weather, season and light; and the way I spend most of my days becomes clear. After all these years, there remain few areas of Britain where I have not lived, stayed in, or visited, or from where I have yet to be given the inspiration to paint.

To live a day in the life that I have described needs help. What a poor thing it would be if it consisted solely of me, my studio, and my camera in isolation. Fortunately I have help aplenty. Rose, my wife, is a necessary partner at work, on our travels, and at home. Also, the companionship of people we meet and friends that we make along the way is a boon, ditto those at Washington Green, and of course, the people who give the help and criticism that really matters, by choosing to buy the finished product. To all, my sincere thanks.