“The Goreme Valley”, 2023

James Brown

“The Goreme Valley”, 2023

Oil on board

Size: 45 x 45 cm

This painting depicts a small section of the vast panoramic view of the Göreme Valley as seen from the high lookout at Aydinli-Orta Mh in Cappadocia, central Türkiye. It highlights one of nature’s most remarkable geological formations: the erosion-carved rock pinnacles known as "fairy chimneys," some adorned with cave dwellings carved by early inhabitants.

During my stay in Cappadocia, Isabelle and I had the extraordinary opportunity to lodge in one of these rock-carved caves for a few days. From personal experience, I can attest that the gritty texture of the rock—its walls, roof, and floor—is an unmistakable aspect of the experience. This fine, pervasive dust has a way of infiltrating your bed and luggage, leaving a lasting reminder of life within the caves.

In creating this painting, I aimed to capture the essence of these rugged, weathered rock towers. To achieve this effect, I applied the paint in a dry, scumbled manner, using a greater proportion of white pigment than I typically do. This intentional choice allowed me to create a chalky, crumbly quality in the paint, effectively echoing the textures of the fairy chimneys and the caves that punctuate them.

“River Shower”, 1988

James Brown

“River Shower”, 1988

Oil on canvas

Size: 96.6 x 112 cm

When I created this painting, my morning exercise routine involved taking my surf-ski on a non-surf paddle up the local river. A true test of any exercise regimen is whether you're willing to venture out in the rain—and I can say with pride that I did. Paddling in the rain was an exhilarating experience; I felt the pitter-patter on my head and shoulders as I navigated my way through the raindrop patterns on the water. This adventure afforded me an almost eye-level view of the falling raindrops as they ricocheted upwards upon hitting the surface. I was mesmerized by the sight of droplets bouncing with brilliant white peaks, contrasting starkly against the dark water below and the overcast sky above.

This experience was less about scrutinising individual drops and more akin to witnessing a field of sparkling movement. The constant drizzle and the rapid patterns of splashes inspired me to capture the overall effect of rain—a vibrant spectacle where the eye flits from one splash to the next. From a personal standpoint, painting the rain splashing around me while I paddled allowed me the creative space to explore how I imagined water droplets seemed to dance.

“Rainforest Shield”, 1987

James Brown

“Rainforest Shield”, 1987

Oil on canvas

Size: 133 x 123 cm

In 1987, I developed a deep fascination with locating and exploring the ancient sacred sites of the region's Indigenous peoples, particularly those associated with the Wulgurukaba of Gurambilbarra and Yunbenun, Bindal, Gugu Badhun, and Nywaigi cultures. My quest to "find" these sites relied heavily on word of mouth, as resources were scarce at the time. Many of these locations proved challenging to access, requiring me to scramble over crumbling hillsides and squeeze into rock overhangs, all while keeping a wary eye out for snakes and prickly underbrush. Despite the minor scratches and splinters I collected along the way, I found immense joy in my explorations, often venturing into areas that I would later realise were culturally sensitive.

The painting I created of an Aboriginal rainforest shield is not a direct representation of any specific shield, but rather a synthesis of the elements that captivated me. For instance, I incorporated chips along the shield’s outer edge, as traditional shields often bear the scars of past battles from deflected blows. Moreover, the shape of my painted shield reflects the subtle asymmetries characteristic of traditional shields, where the form is influenced by the tree buttresses from which they are often carved.

In the centre of my shield painting, I feature a circle that alludes to the slight boss traditionally left to accommodate the hand-grip on the reverse side. Surrounding this boss, I incorporated tendril-like forms reminiscent of mangrove roots, extending upward and downward. This creative choice was inspired by the arrangements I observed in local rock art, where similar designs often appeared in representations of shields. While I acknowledge that my appropriation of this motif may not be entirely well-informed, I was drawn to this imaginative interpretation while working on the piece.

“Fractured Vision”, 2024

James Brown

“Fractured Vision”, 2024

Watercolour on heavy wove paper

Size: (sheet) 42 x 29.7 cm; (image borderline) 21.3 x 21.2 cm.

Recently, I've found myself deeply inspired by the works of Australian artist Godfrey Miller, and this painting serves as an instinctive response to the sensitivities I recognise in his art. For me, Miller's approach is characterized by the fragmentation and recomposition of subjects into critical planes, angles, and rhythms. Yet, beneath the visible attributes of his style lies the essence that resonates with me the most: the subtle visual play of small adjustments. I liken this process to playing chess, where a particular colour or tone is echoed and addressed within the composition through careful modifications made elsewhere.

While this watercolour is not a direct imitation of Miller’s style, it embraces his concept of deconstructing a scene and reconfiguring it through personal sensitivity. From my perspective, this painting captures the sensory overload one might experience in a forest, where myriad details compete for attention, and flashes of vibrant colours create an overwhelming, almost explosive sensory experience—where there is much to observe, yet nothing truly perceived. Although the focus is on three trees in the foreground, the true essence lies in their dissolution into a fragmented matrix of colour and rhythm.

“Sun and Moon, 2”, 1977

James Brown

“Sun and Moon, 2”, 1977

Acrylic on hardboard (Masonite)

Size: 45.5 x 53.3 cm

In 1977, at the age of 24, I created this painting during a particularly vibrant period of my life. I was teaching part-time at the College of Art in Brisbane in the evenings while balancing a full-time position at Sandgate District High School. My days were hectic, yet I was fully committed to my journey as an artist. I was fortunate to have Alan Warren, the Head of the College of Art at that time, as both a mentor and a sounding board for my ideas. He encouraged me to explore the works of the British artist Wyndham Lewis, a co-founder of the Vorticist movement. This advice was invaluable, yet I found myself even more captivated by Warren’s own paintings, where broad planes of colour were animated with dynamic lines.

Looking back, I recognize that while the influence of Cézanne is evident in my work, my mother's admiration for the Australian artist John Passmore also played a significant role in shaping my artistic exploration; for instance, Passmore's “Miller’s Point” (https://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/explore/collection/work/75872). Ultimately, the direction I took aimed to represent the concept of landscape as a field of planes, characterised by bulges and cavities, loosely painted as if I were “feeling” the essence of the landscape rather than merely depicting its visual reality.