Artist Sarah Luxford draws in the air with a single, unbroken line of wire to create beautiful, elegant sculptures that resonate her passion for the natural world.Her intricate compositions illustrate not only her dexterity, but also her insightful eye and attention to detail.Sarah's creativity reflects her vision of the endless potential of using a single medium.Whilst the interplay of light and shadow adds depth and dimension, breathing life into her sculptures.
Sarah uses soft iron wire in gauges 0.5mm down to 0.2mm to form her sculptures. After building her delicate tiny pieces, she sprays them with a matt black paint to prevent rusting. The work is presented on gesso canvas in simple white frames to protect the work, whilst not detracting from it.
We are delighted that Sarah has created a new collection of botanical studies for our exhibition Drawing in the Air: Botanical Studies
From the internet...
Step into a world of ethereal beauty at ‘Drawing in the Air,’ an exquisite art exhibition showcasing the mesmerising creations of renowned wire sculptor Sarah Luxford. Through delicate twists and turns, Sarah Luxford breathes life into the intangible, transforming rigid wire into fluid forms that seem to dance with grace and elegance. Each sculpture in this collection is a testament to the artist’s mastery of their craft, capturing the essence of fleeting moments and emotions, frozen in time. ‘Drawing in the Air’ invites you to explore the delicate balance between structure and freedom, inviting you to see the world in a new, enchanting light. Join us in experiencing the poetry of wire at its finest.
I have had a passion for antique white plates for many years and collect reticulated ones - they make a lovely display on the wall with unusual shadows through the holes. My collection is not extensive as good ones are hard to find and those with chips or cracks are not of interest. Displaying them in groups makes a strong statement. So it was this love of old white plates that ignited the idea of collecting interesting vintage white plates. They have to speak to me in some way. Painting original still lifes on them hopefully makes them covetable again.
It's fun to do and I enjoy the immediacy of it. My drawings and paintings take so long to do, whilst the plates are relatively quick - although of course the oil paints still take weeks to dry.
I confess I only paint subjects that interest me and those that seem to 'sit happily on a plate'. That expression is hard to define but see if you agree.Beautiful vegetables and fruits, some picked from my own garden, glistening fish and antique cutlery are first to be captured. These simple still lifes look great on their own or even better in a group. Building a plate-scape is simple as I sell them ready to hang with a brass plated hanger (with protective ends) and a wall fixing, so super quick and easy to attach to your wall. Alternatively, you could place the plate on a special stand. It's fine art on a plate only - don't ever use them for eating or put them in your dishwasher!
Artists throughout history have been drawn to designing plates - strange but true. Even Picasso in the 1940s embraced the art form, creating unique pieces as well a limited edition designs with a local pottery.In the 1970s Julian Schnabel and Judy Chicago famously harnessed the power of the humble plate to send their eloquent messages. But does this question the traditional hierarchy of the art world - is it subverted?How delicious.Does the fine art element diminish - is it of less value because its on a plate - does the association of domesticity devalue it? What do you think?
To find out more about the history of painting on plates click on this link
I have spent my life in black and white studying greys. My obsession with colour meant that I needed to extricate it from my career palette in order to draw. To draw in detail, to observe, to edit, to mark and mark again. The employment of colour would confuse my goal, so it was purposefully ignored. When I did introduce colour into my work it was restrained, limited and controlled. Only one colour at a time. Its role was functional - to pop!
Creativity is energising. I'm having fun experimenting with relationships and exploiting the dynamics of colours - always learning and enriching my portfolio. This excitement is nurturing - my curiosity sparked - enquiries into 'what if?'.I'm not interested in slumber, but being awakened inside to discover new and more. Experimentation means that mistakes are plenty and have be worked through - I expect to go wrong sometimes. It is calling on my depth of experience to find solutions and execute them. The mastery of techniques and materials is a lesson for life, so curiosity is helpful and perseverance too. Getting older helps as one's inner voice reminds one that 'you can do this - keep going'.
Now that I am indulging in paint, I am wallowing in colour - luxuriating in all the millions of nuances and hues.The joy of creating thick, multi-layered colours, embracing impasto painting with relish, has engineered a sense of freedom unknown before. Yes, my paintings are experiences that envelop the viewer - emotional responses laced with energy. Just as with my drawings, the more you look the more you see, but with paint it is very much a physical event. The quality of the paint assists in the translation of different narratives. The viewing distance alters the experience significantly. The paintings are invitingly tactile with textured surfaces - multiple layers of paint on paint, colour on colour.The depth is vital, for it resonates the emotion that I am layering and transposing, from vision to canvas.
Colour can be bewitching.It speaks to us and entices our personal stories to relate to it. Everyone has a favourite colour, that is a colour that resonates with them, shaped by their life and memories. Whilst nurturing this relationship we can enhance our own perception of what we need around us to fuel our moods. Yellow is a prime example of the power of colour. Depending on your innate response to this hue, its impact in its most vibrant form can be seismic, with the potential to lift moods and bring joy. Whilst its darkest tone can be miserable and mysterious. But this is not a rule - colour is amorphous. Ones reaction is guided by the viewer's inner world. So colour is personal and therefore the emotional intelligence behind each painting plays with the power of colour.
My dark paintings are moody with chiaroscuro being a favoured technique to evoke the ever changing balance of the elements. The aim is for them to be dynamically atmospheric by transposing an emotion in response to stormy skies or the depth of midnight. So the energy of the palette is not focussed on being menacing or gloomy, even though some interrupt that message, but rather of embracing the celebration of the interplay of light and dark.
In contrast, the more sunny paintings shout out the sheer joy of being alive in such wonderful places. They are statements luxuriating in colour.