One day it was being marked by Peter Saunders, when Frank Collins burst into the room, and, without acknowledging me, started a furious argument with Peter, about some slight, real or imagined. Suddenly, Frank spun round, shot a glance at the painting on the wall in front of him and exclaimed: " Ah, de Stael ,"and then resumed his argument with Peter, without pausing for breath.
Of course, Frank was right, as usual-the painting is, I suppose, an echo of the blocky, geometric paintings of de Stael, particularly the under-painting.
The figures are awkward, but I find I am compelled to put figures in a landscape-of more interest to me is the cliff in the mid -distance: for some reason that I cannot fathom, cliffs crop up time and time again in my paintings, going back to my childhood.
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