Laura Drever

When walking in the landscape, I spend time soaking in all that surrounds me – the path followed and the way it helps to steer the way. Finding colours from new growth appearing and watching how the birds fly making invisible lines in and through the landscape. Waiting for Orkney’s unique light to make a field glow or the barley sparkle. Listening to the sounds of nature.

I recently walked along the coast from Hobbister to home (filling in the gaps from the map that I haven’t walked) An early start after the bairns went to school to make the most of the calm morning. This stretch of calm weather has been refreshing. The change of a season are here. During the walk thoughts were drawn towards what could be the best part of exploring the landscape – in the conversation (with myself) the word silence entered my head.

The ability to switch off to daily noise and be fully aware of what inspires me to paint. The colours, textures, light and land. Through the silence I pay more attention to the surroundings and think about how they can be translated into a drawing or painting. When taking about silence, I don’t mean complete quiet or stillness. It is not just what is heard, it is quietness in thoughts and movements. For example, when walking in the landscape I keep a slow, steady pace and stop when required. I don’t rush and give the time required. Thoughts are refocussed to forget daily chores, to do lists, responsibility and worries in order to think about the colours to mix which will create the sense of place, giving an impression of Orkney.

Adopting this calmness when back in the studio helps me to return to the walk, making me focus on the parts that are remembered and that contribute to the artwork. Any sketches made or photos captured are put to one side and very rarely referenced afterwards. Perhaps a glimpse here or there as a refresher, but not relied on.

This is as a really important (unseen) part of the process.

I have started reading a paper on Landscape research that’s focusses on walking methods and how they can contribute to the way the landscape is experienced. I have found it interesting as I recognise that over the years (since childhood) I have adopted a method which is an integral part of the process, equally important to the drawings and paintings. The walks are my sketchbooks and always have been.

Lots of conversations to have, lots to learn.

Teebro, an exhibition of new works at the Pier Arts Centre. 18th June – 20th August 2022