A Sense of Place

Last fall, in the midst of lockdowns, I began a series of paintings for an exhibition scheduled for July of this year.  Without knowing what the world would look like so far in the future or if the show would even happen, I decided to err on the side of optimism and got out my brushes. 

In November of 2021, just as I began to paint, the province of Newfoundland and Labrador announced that 2022 would be designated a Come Home Year.  Former residents and curious Come-From-Aways would be invited to experience the people, places, and culture that make Newfoundland and Labrador so compelling.  The creaky machinery of the tourist industry was dusted and greased, and the icebergs and humpback whales were pulled out of storage and sent back to work.

While I painted, the Covid situation began to improve, and by the time I’d finished the seventh and last piece in the spring of 2022, the world was starting to open up again.

In March I made my first trip back home in two and a half years.  Reconnecting with my family, spending time in the woods, and seeing the Atlantic Ocean again felt like vitamins that my soul had been deprived of for far too long.  After so much isolation, uncertainty, and loss during the pandemic, it was as if someone had pulled up the black-out blinds and opened a window to let the sunlight and fresh air back in. 

I am part of the target demographic for Come Home Year.  I grew up on the Bonavista Peninsula in the pre-Internet era, before the flashy television ads, world-class hotels, and Broadway musicals put Newfoundland and Labrador on the global tourism map.  Twenty five years ago I joined the thousands before me who left to seek education and employment on the Mainland.  When I visit nowadays, I see my home province as a tourist, an architect, and a former resident who still calls it home. 

With this series of paintings, I wanted to present the things that I find meaningful when I Come Home.  Water, rocks, trees.  Colourful wooden buildings set in a sparse and beautiful landscape.  Solitude.  Quiet contemplation.  And yes, even an iceberg.  Extraneous details and distractions have been stripped away, along with perspective, shadows, and textures.

In the end, each painting contains only what it needs to convey A Sense of Place.

A Sense of Place
​This house sits on a grassy field in Elliston, NL, just a few feet from the edge of the North American continent.  Every spring, a parade of icebergs floats by, drawing tourists and locals alike.  I composed a close-cropped detail of what I imagined the original exterior looked like, and I painted the house yellow because it reminded me of an old house where I grew up.

A Roof Over Our Heads #1
Centered precisely on the broad side of an immaculately kept shed in Twillingate, the little birdhouses are exhibited like colourful paintings on a white expanse of gallery wall.  A simple fence with just two horizontal boards defines the property and frames the subjects.

A Roof Over Our Heads #2
Four brightly painted birdhouses are located underneath the overhang of a white shed.  The birdhouses are residents in the same way as the birds themselves, sheltered from the elements by the structure above them.

Beach House
It wasn’t until I moved away to Alberta that I heard of the Devil’s Footprints in Keels, NL.  Concretions within an exposed bedrock cliff face had eroded away, leaving impressions in the rock.  After finding these “tracks”, I wandered around the rocky beach and admired an old house with a unique curved roof.  It was a gloomy, wet day, and the photo I took was essentially black and white.  A familiar yellow house brightens up the scene, as does a beach full of rainbow-coloured rocks that reminds me of a trip to Gros Morne National Park.

Good Luck Charm
Fishing villages on the East Coast have seen excruciating changes in the past few decades as fish stocks dwindle and people move away to find more stable work.  Moreton’s Harbour is no exception.  There is still some fishing being done, but the old wooden buildings, many now neglected and crumbling, provide a glimpse into the industry in its prime.  A superficial interpretation of a horseshoe over the door can be a humourous poke at the lack of stairs to the second floor, or a deeper commentary on hope and loss.  ​

Walk-out Basement
The Old Salt Box Company is doing a great job of tastefully modernizing historic houses in rural Newfoundland and turning them into unique accommodations for travelers.  On a trip to Fogo Island, I stayed at one of their properties in Herring Neck, near Twillingate.  The cove on the opposite side of the road was dotted with wharves, boats, and little sheds, including one with an interesting storage area surprisingly close to the water.  I imagine this “basement” has taken a few beatings from the Atlantic Ocean over the years.

Winter Walk
The Champney’s Aquarium is tucked away in a little cove near the popular Fox Island Hiking Trail.  Featuring an assortment of exhibits and touch tanks, the aquarium and surrounding community is a growing destination for visitors.  A new boardwalk to the beach was being built when I last visited; a winter scene proved to be the right approach to emphasize its meandering path and the slope of the nearby hills.  A little red shed adds a pop of colour and serves as an anchor point for the composition.

​A Sense of Place will be exhibited during the month of July, 2022 at Two Whales Coffee Shop in Port Rexton, Newfoundland. 
 
I am excited to host the Artist Reception on Saturday, July 16th from 6 to 7pm at Two Whales.
 
​-Troy