Learning from Rembrandt

The Jewish Bride by Rembrandt
The Jewish Bride by Rembrandt

A recent visit to the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam compelled me to rework an old painting. It was the Rembrandts that did it.
I painted my self-portrait “Halo” during a particularly difficult time in my life. I had become the carer for my terminally ill partner. People praised me for my fortitude, but I was aware of a disparity between how people saw me and how I truly felt. Deep down there was an awful darkness; a sense of despair. I tried to recreate this sense in a painting, but wasn’t completely successful.

detail from the painting halo
detail from reworked painting

Anyway, fast forward to March this year, and I had  a splendid time visiting Amsterdam and studying the Rembrandts at the Rijksmuseum. Although there’s a very good selection of Rembrandts to be seen in London, I was captivated by the examples in Amsterdam – some really fine late Rembrandts. I could stare at them for hours. I marvel at the detail he could suggest in the shadows, with such economy. And there was such a sadness in those eyes.
In looking at these wonderful paintings by the great master of portraiture, I felt a desire to revisit one of my earlier self-portraits: “Halo”.

Halo, revised version

I didn’t undertake many changes. Basically I added a few more layers of glaze, but this time I was a bit looser in the application and removal.  It is easy to fall into the trap of becoming too precious when applying glazes. It’s the final stage, and the underpainting might have taken many hours to complete, so there’s an obvious reluctance to mess it up with a sloppy final layers. But looking at those old Rembrandts, what struck me is the spontaneity of the most beautiful passages in his paintings. He wasn’t afraid of messing them up.

The Gleaners, after Millet

the gleaners
The Gleaners after Millet

The Painting That Fought Back: A Year-Long Journey to Create ‘The Gleaners’

Some paintings arrive easily, flowing from brush to canvas. This was not one of them. “The Gleaners” took over a year to complete, a journey of false starts, creative blocks, and one crucial breakthrough that transformed the entire piece. It’s a painting about social exclusion, but its creation taught me a lesson about collaboration.

Like many creative projects, it began with a collision of ideas. I wanted to create a contemporary version of Jean-François Millet’s famous painting, “The Gleaners,” to say something about modern inequality. The spark for my figures, however, came from a far stranger place: a still from the 1978 film “The Shout,” where actress Susannah York scurries across the floor like a primeval creature.

The unsettling, crawling pose felt right. It captured the desperate, overlooked nature of my subjects. I sketched it out, transferred it to canvas, and began to paint.

the gleaners and film still from the shout

Early progress was good, but then I hit a wall. For months, the painting languished. I tweaked the composition, changed the colours, and in a moment of near-desperation, even added a SpaceX Starship launching in the background of a desolate wasteland. But nothing worked. The core of the painting—the foreground figures—felt lifeless and wrong. I couldn’t connect with them, and the entire project stalled.

Original sketch and first underpainting on canvas

The Breakthrough: A Secret Hidden in a Gainsborough

Just when I was ready to give up, a TV documentary changed everything. It was Waldemar Januszczak’s “The Art Mysteries,” exploring Thomas Gainsborough’s “Mr and Mrs Andrews.” Januszczak revealed how the painting subtly references the Enclosure Acts, which fenced off common land and pushed rural people into poverty.

You can watch it on YouTube here.

The Incredible Story Behind Mr and Mrs Andrews (Waldemar Januszczak Documentary)

It was a lightbulb moment. Gainsborough’s composition, with its stark division between the landed gentry and their vast, controlled landscape, gave me the perfect stage for my own story of exclusion. I could fence off the lush green fields and bring the desolate wasteland right to the foreground, trapping my figures within it.

The background was solved. But the central problem remained.

The Final Piece: A Model’s Haunting Gaze

I finally admitted I couldn’t do it alone. My initial vision of emaciated, crawling figures wasn’t translating. I needed a real person.

I put out a call for a life model and found someone perfect for the project. From our first session, everything changed. Working with a real person, collaborating and responding to her presence, breathed life into the work.

We abandoned the original crawling pose. Instead, she offered something far more powerful: a haunting, direct, backward stare.

That stare became the new focal point of the painting. It was defiant, accusatory, and deeply human. The painting was no longer just my idea; it was a collaboration. The final weeks were a joy, and I finished just in time for its debut at the Cluster Contemporary Art Fair.

When I exhibited the painting, I watched as people were drawn in, not by the landscape or the concept, but by the arresting gaze of the foreground figure. It was a detail I had never planned, a gift born from collaboration. It’s a powerful reminder that when you put your easel in front of another person, the art you create is a conversation, not a monologue. And often, the result is something better than you could have imagined alone.

artist and model standing in front of the painting the gleaners
The artist and the model

An awkward conversation about my Ukraine War painting.

men wrestling on display at cluster contemporary art fair

I had a difficult conversation about this painting at the recent Cluster Contemporary Art Fair. A Ukrainian woman approached me and asked me to explain it. I don’t think she was happy with what I said.
First, I should make clear that I see only one aggressor in this war in Ukraine, and I admire the dignity and bravery of the Ukrainian people. But that is not what this painting is about.

details from Men Wrestling with Putin naked and Macron and Boris Johnson
details from Men Wrestling

Clearly I was mocking Putin, naked on his golden throne with rickety wooden legs. And having Macron with Boris Johnson wearing theatrical costumes is obviously questioning their motivation for their actions on the world stage. Biden cheering on from a distance is a comment on the US’s stance in this war.
No, what puzzled this woman was the relevance of the naked men wrestling.

naked men wrestling. detail from men wrestling

Many visitors who saw this painting at Cluster Contemporary spotted the reference to old photos of wrestlers by Eadweard Muybridge, and also to Francis Bacon’s Two Figures, which had used the Muybridge photos as a reference.

two figure by francis bacon, wrestlers by Eadweard Muybridge
Two Figures by Francis Bacon, Two Men Wrestling by Eadweard Muybridge

This is not a noble painting about Ukrainian heroism. Instead it is a grubby little story about you and me: it’s about everyone cheering their chosen sides from the safety of their living room; it is about how a primal conflict to the death by two warring races has become an exciting spectacle for the rest of the world; it is about my shame in feeling any excitement at missiles raining down on Russian tanks and troops; it is about my sadness over what we have become.

Cluster Contemporary Art Fair

visitors to cluster contemporary looking at my painting Alleged Assault on Pax by Mars

Will people understand my paintings?

I showed three recent paintings at the Cluster Contemporary Art Fair, held in the wonderful Oxo Tower Wharf on London’s South Bank. Thanks to everyone who visited, and sorry if I didn’t have time to speak to all of you.
I was eager to show these paintings together; I wanted to gauge people’s reactions. When you work alone in your studio for months on end, it’s easy to start having nagging doubts: “Will they understand my paintings?” …or most commonly “WTF am I doing?”
I’m not too bothered if people don’t understand these works, as long as they engage with them, and actually take the time to look at them. That’s all I can hope for.

visitors to cluster contemporary looking at the gleaners by peter d'alessandri

“Surreal. The artist is on drugs”

Well, they certainly provoked a strong reaction, and mainly favourable. There were a few disparaging remarks, like “the artist must be on drugs” 🙂 Most of the visitors I spoke to were genuinely interested in the art on show, and I found it one of the most interesting events that I have taken part in.
I took part in this event as I wanted to put my recent work in front of a real audience. Social media is okay for sharing updates, but there really is no substitute for real people looking at the actual paintings.

the gleaners and men wrestling at cluster contemporary

The artist and the model

It was a nice surprise having the model with whom I worked on the painting “The Gleaners” turn up to see the show. I have mentioned in a previous post how I was at an impasse with that particular painting, unable to resolve some difficulties. And then I found Catarina, who was fascinated in the project from the start. There is something special about working with a good life-model, with whom you have an understanding. There is an exchange of ideas, and very quickly I had a solution for my problem painting. What I love about this type of collaboration is that the solution is not something that I could have imagined by myself – it was a product of the exercise of working with a model, working through different poses.

artist and model standing in front of the painting the gleaners
The artist and the model

This was the inaugural Cluster Contemporary Art Fair. There were certainly some teething problems, mainly related to their website and QR codes not working.
The show looked good, was nicely curated, and they attracted a reasonable crowd. Turn out was better than similar events I have attended at the same venue, and the visitors were genuinely interested in art, and weren’t just popping in to keep out of the rain.

cluster-london.com

Catarina’s website can be found here: moonchild777.com

 

Perils of Painting a British Prime Minister

detail from the gleaners, with Liz Truss sitting under a tree
detail from The Gleaners

I have just finished my painting The Gleaners, complete with a figure bearing a striking resemblance to the The British Prime Minister Liz Truss. The paint has barely dried, and now I’m worried that she won’t be in office by the time I get to show the painting to the public.

The 3rd November. That’s the opening night of Cluster Contemporary, when I get to reveal it to the public. I would put money on her being deposed before then. Oh well.

I had the same problem when I featured Boris Johnson in a recent painting.

boris johnson and macron in my painting The Wrestlers
detail from Men Wrestling, with Boris Johnson and Macron, both in theatrical attire.

Boris Johnson’s dethroning was a long drawn out affair. That won’t be the case with Liz Truss. And also, I was not that worried about Johnson no longer being PM, as he was such a high profile figure, people won’t forget him in a hurry. Unlike Liz Truss.

A gallery owner once warned me that some of my paintings would have a limited shelf life, because of my inclusion of public figures. They were referring  specifically to my painting Alleged Assault on Pax by Mars, with Biden and Trump.

Alleged Assault on Pax by Mars, after Rubens, with Trump, Biden and Dominic Cummings
Alleged Assault on Pax by Mars

Well, they may have a point. But I am producing these works because they are about subjects and themes I feel very strongly about: War and peace; Post Truth;  social inequality. They don’t get much bigger than that. We are living in a tumultuous time, and the rapid changes at the head of the British government just reflect that. So bring them on. Whoever is next, I’ll have my paint brushes ready.