Gareth Naylor

Atmospheric paintings of Japan

Tag: Oita prefecture

  • Painting of a farmer’s fire in rural Japan

    Painting of a farmer’s fire in rural Japan

    I have this amazing painting.

    Sadly, I have no amazing story to go with it.

    In fact, the origin of this painting is murky.

    I’m pretty sure that it is from a photo I took.

    I’m not sure if I still have the photo but I can still remember that photo. 

    And I’m pretty sure that I took this photo when I was driving in the countryside.

    I’m not sure if I was alone and I stopped and took the photo.

    I think that was the case.

    But I could have been in the car with my family on some excursion when I saw this scene.

    And I can’t remember the exact location.

    I think I’d just passed a row of houses in the countryside, gone over a bridge and then I came upon this scene.

    I think if I pass the same place again then I will recall it.

    It was definitely in Oita prefecture where I live.

    But that’s all I can remember.

    At some point, I have to do some more paintings of smoke (or mist) in the countryside as I think they will turn into amazing paintings such as this one.

    And it will be so fun to paint them.

    That’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • Painting of a beautiful Japanese river at dusk

    Painting of a beautiful Japanese river at dusk

    In April of 2018, I visited a cafe that had a gift shop.

    The gifts were artworks by foreigners living in Japan. 

    The owner, who was herself a foreigner, had asked me to show some of my paintings there.

    I was delighted by this opportunity.

    The shop is near Kitsuki town, which is a very rural area in Oita prefecture.

    And although I’d been to Kitsuki town several times I’d never seen much of the surrounding countryside. 

    It was beautiful.

    I had a lovely time there with my family.

    And I also now have 4 of my paintings on display in the shop.

    We left late because my daughter was having such a good time that she didn’t want to leave. 

    She even cried and said that she wanted to live there. 

    It really touched my heart when she said that.

    But it was getting late and we had to go home.

    Fortunately, once in the car her mood soon changed and she was feeling fine.

    The journey home was a wonderful experience for me.

    As I was driving in the final light of the setting sun, I saw several beautiful scenes. 

    One of them was of the river which for a while ran by the side of the road. 

    There was one particular curve in the road where I caught a glance of the river.

    The view was so beautiful that I had to stop and turn the car around and go back and take some photographs.

    Perhaps what appealed to me was the color of the river. 

    I could see an enchanting mix of warm orange and cool blue hues in the water.

    I was hesitant to do a painting of this scene because normally I paint light.

    So there are often rays of light and strong highlights in my work.

    But in this scene the sun had set and there were no dramatic and powerful contrasts of edge, light and color.

    Instead, this was a soft, muted scene.

    I am glad, though, that I plucked up the courage and tried to paint it.

    It took several attempts before I got a result that I was happy with.

    I’m particularly satisfied with capturing the warm orange and cool blue hues in the water.

    I’m also satisfied with the tranquil feeling that the painting conveys.

    Sadly, none of my paintings sold at the shop.

    I am, though, well acquainted with such disappointments and although it has taken many years of enduring such disappointments, I have become somewhat less perturbed by them.

    And do not take that as resignation.

    Creativity is a living energy that flows in me and I follow it.

    Well that’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • Painting rays of light passing through trees in a Japanese park

    Painting rays of light passing through trees in a Japanese park

    A few years ago I went with my wife and daughter to a family walking event.

    It was at a park around the art museum in a district called Ueno.

    The park is situated on a hill.

    And it has a path that leads you through a densely forested area with some open glades.

    When we arrived we found a small group of dads, mums and excited children.

    I noticed that even though we were only going to walk around a small park, many of the parents were fully kitted out with professional hiking gear.

    Having the best gear and the whole set, is something Japanese people like to do.

    Anyway, it was a nice day out.

    And along the path there were various interesting things to see.

    The most interesting of which, at least for me, was the pond.

    This seemingly innocuous pond was full of crabs.

    I was told there were about a 1000 in it.

    Which was impressive because it was a small pond.

    I was further told that these crabs had come from America.

    They are called “zarigani” in Japanese.

    In English, they are called crayfish. 

    And these crabs are nasty as they like to pinch.

    One man took one out and showed us.

    As you can imagine the kids were thrilled.

    And then he did what we all wanted to see.

    He let the crab pinch his finger.

    And he couldn’t completely conceal a wince when the crab pinched him and drew blood.

    He had a bit of a tough time getting the crab off his finger but at last managed to do so and put it back in the pond.

    It was a nice day out.

    However, the day after that outing, I got a mark on my arm.

    It was an ugly mark and it was really itchy. 

    It took a few weeks before it went. 

    I guess something unpleasant had bitten me during the outing in the park.

    In Japan, you have to be very careful what you touch in natural areas. 

    They have a tick in my prefecture that can even kill you.

     I guess that’s why even in the middle of the hot and humid Japanese summer the Japanese farmers cover their bodies completely. 

    The only part of them you can see is their nose and eyes.

    But me, the foolish romantic artist, am often prancing around the countryside in sandals and shorts. 

    What I’ve learnt though is that it’s a good idea to copy the local yokel.

    Anyway, I did no paintings of this place on this occasion. 

    But a year or so later in November of 2020 I was looking through some photos on my cell phone and came across one from this outing. 

    And when I looked at it I suddenly got the inspiring idea of rays of light shooting through those dark trees and lighting up a small group of people.

    Luckily I acted on such inspiration, which you should always do, and immediately started to paint it.

    I am delighted with the result.

    This beautiful effect of light passing through trees is called “komorebi” in Japanese.

    And this is how it is spelt in Chinese characters “木漏れ日”.

    木 (pronounced ko) means tree, 漏れ (pronounced more) means light passing through and 日 (pronounced bi) means sun.

    That’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • Painting of a beautiful Japanese beach at evening time

    Painting of a beautiful Japanese beach at evening time

    Recently we went on a family trip to Matama. 

    This is a coastal area famous for its sandbanks that look so beautiful when the sun sets. 

    And, luckily, we had arrived on a very sunny day.

    The tide was slowly coming in and creating a dramatic pattern of meandering streams through the sand.

    A lot of people were on the beach digging. 

    Out of curiosity I asked what they were looking for and was told mategai. 

    I later found out that this is a long, white tubular thing that doesn’t look appetising at all. 

    In English it is called “Gould’s Razor Shell”, which doesn’t make it much clearer for me.

    You catch a mategai by digging a small hole and then sprinkling salt in it. 

    The mategai then rises and you pluck it out and put it in a bucket of water. 

    Or at least I guess so because I didn’t watch that closely.

    During my “research” on the net, I found one foreigner who described mategai as a fairly edible bivalve mollusc. 

    Mmm, “fairly edible”, could you imagine that description on a restaurant menu. 

    It would be like ordering a “fairly edible soup”.

    But the people on the beach looked pretty excited.

    And in case you didn’t know, the Japanese eat some strange things.

    To give a few succulent examples: fresh and warm turtle blood with red wine – they have that at a place called Ajimu in my own prefecture; raw horse meat – they have that in the prefecture next to mine, Kumamoto, which is famous for this speciality – and then in Tokyo I think they eat locusts – or try to, it seems they sometimes run out because of the high demand.

    Such strange things are what make Japan such a wonderful place. 

    It reminds me of my favorite novelist Jack Vance and his wonderfully exotic and fantastic worlds. 

    I wonder if he was inspired by Japan. 

    I’m over using the word wonder but it’s the right word to use.

    Anyway, to return from wondering to wandering.

    I did a lot of wandering across the beach to find pleasing images to paint and I have now done quite a few paintings from this one trip. 

    It has become a “series” which almost sounds like the word “serious” and that’s what a series really is, when you get very serious about a subject and paint a lot of pictures of it.

    The painting above is one of my favorites. 

    As you can see, I didn’t hold back with the colors.

    And my sunglasses might have influenced the painting somewhat. 

    They are tinted and they give everything a warm glow. 

    I actually like this effect and don’t mind it getting passed into the final image.

    There was a small restaurant by the beach and after the sun set we ordered toriten which is basically fried chicken. 

    I don’t think they offered mategai but I didn’t bother to ask either. 

    In many ways, I’m not so adventurous.

    We ate our fried chicken whilst enjoying the view of the sun setting over the sea. 

    It was a moment of calm, content beauty.

    I hope you all have such moments.

    And that’s all for now, 

    Mata ne,

    Gareth.

    Postscript

    I originally wrote this story in May of 2016, 

    I’m editing it in August of 2021.

    And I also re edited it in March of 2024.

  • I got a commission to paint a Japanese torii gate

    I got a commission to paint a Japanese torii gate

    Framed print available to buy

    In 2020, I did an exhibition at the main department store in my local city of Oita.

    It went well and I sold about 12 to 13 paintings.

    Nearly all of these were sales of paintings on display.

    However, I did get 2 commissions.

    And one of them is of this Japanese torii gate in Kitsuki.

    The client goes surfing at this place and so it has sentimental value for him.

    And the client always orders a painting for his wife for their wedding anniversary.

    I’ve been to Kitsuki many times but I’ve never seen this place before.

    And I’m delighted to see it because it’s a beautiful subject matter.

    I’ve heard though that the torii got damaged this year in a strong typhoon.

    However, there is now a campaign to restore it.

    Hopefully, in 2021 I will go to this place and paint the actual scene.

    That’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • A painting from a walk in the mountains of Beppu

    A painting from a walk in the mountains of Beppu

    Last week, I spent a whole day at my exhibition. I don’t think it helped sales but I learnt about what paintings people liked.

    On the final day of the exhibition, after I had finished and had packed away my work, I decided that I needed some fresh air. This was a cafe where people could smoke and I could feel that tobacco as a heaviness in my lungs and I didn’t like it. 

    So I drove up the mountain, found an interesting place and stopped.

    This was all impromptu. 

    The weather was cloudy and it was raining very lightly. I thought that I would just take a few photos.

    But then I found myself taking a short stroll. And then I found myself walking up the mountain. This involved walking through a huge, empty and square-shaped concrete tunnel with a very strong echo which provided me with some great amusement.

    After this, I saw steam coming out of the drains. I definitely knew that I was not in England!

    Although this area had the usual ugliness of modern suburban Japan there were a few beautiful sites, such as a dramatic 60 meter high waterfall, a very elegant traditional Japanese gate and the scene in the painting above which I really liked and which made the whole venture worthwhile.

    In this scene, I especially like the steam rising up. It creates a wonderful atmosphere. And, of course, I like that beautiful stone wall.

    After taking a few photos of this scene I went further on up the mountain via a lot of small winding paths which led through a small forest and even past one of the pipes where steam was gushing out. There is no fencing around the pipe and the noise was so high-pitched that I had to cover my ears.

    On my return, I came upon a fork in the path with a sign that told tourists they could walk along one of the paths for about 17 kilometers and about 19 kilometers on the other.

    I felt a strong temptation to walk along one of these paths but it was getting late and I had family responsibilities: namely, a two year old. But I am looking forward to coming back here one day and walking along these paths. I’m really curious about what’s around here, fingers crossed there might be some beautiful sights.

    Somewhere upon this mountain, once a year, they have a huge fire and it makes the mountain look like a volcano with lava running down it. It is a spectacular sight.

    That’s all for now, Gareth.

    Postscript

    I wrote this story in September of 2014. I edited it in 2022. This story needed almost no editing. 

    Sadly, I have not returned to Beppu to explore the paths that I mentioned here. In fact, I had forgotten all about them until I read this story. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll go and explore them. 

    This story made me think, though, about paths never taken in my life. But maybe I shouldn’t think too much about that as it’ll take me into all kinds of existential thoughts and angst.

  • Being a ghost at my exhibition

    Being a ghost at my exhibition

    Once, quite a few years ago, at one of my very first exhibitions it was a requirement that I was there the whole duration of the show acting as the ‘host’. It was not a pleasant experience because at that time I found meeting other people quite a stressful experience. 

    Also, the fact that my paintings were falling off the wall at regular intervals didn’t help. This was because I didn’t have the money to buy proper frames and so instead I used some thick card frames and stuck everything together with the strongest tape I could find. But the tape was not strong enough and the paintings just slowly peeled off the wall. The bang they made when they hit the ground was shocking.

    Since then I have never ‘hosted’ any of my exhibitions. Normally, I’m in and out of there so fast you’d think I was committing a felony, and I probably leave tyre marks on the road. 

    In my latest exhibition, which is at a cafe in a town called Beppu, I didn’t even have any image of myself and I later heard that a group of women were wondering what I looked like. I suppose you could say I was more the ghost rather than the host of my own exhibition.

    But things change. I now have a friend, a fellow artist living near me, and we are parallels of one another in some interesting ways. He’s like a 15 year future version of myself.

    And this year I have done a small collaborative exhibition with him and some of my paintings were shown at one of his exhibitions. When I talked to him about this present exhibition the first thing he said was ‘When will you be there?’ And I said, only when I put up the paintings and when I take them down. Oh, and I will also go to meet two newspaper reporters there which is a first for me and due to the efforts of the owner and my wife.

    My friend was surprised by my comment and laughed. Unlike me, during his exhibitions, my friend spends any free time he has being at his exhibition, talking to people who look interested and giving out business cards. He even holds special little parties. I’ve been to one of these parties and the atmosphere was wonderful.

    So, it was time I did the same – well, not the party – not yet. To be honest, I’m not a party person. But maybe one day. This time I made a date when I would be at the cafe all day and told the newspaper reporters.

    And it was great to arrive there and find a painting missing because somebody had bought it. According to the cafe owner it was a flute player.

    Anyway, I also had lunch there so it was hardly a chore. And I even did some painting there. I hoped that it would add to the entertainment but the truth is that I just love to paint.

    And I can see now from this experience the benefits of ‘hosting’ rather than ghosting my own exhibition. 

    People were literally telling me what they liked about my work and I could see which pictures got noticed and looked at most. Interestingly a lot of it was the work I’d done that year and they were all linked because they all began with an interest in reflections.

    It had rained a lot that year and being stuck in the house because of the rain inspired in me the idea of doing watery reflections. And this led to a small series of paintings of Nagahama festival which is the first festival in the city where I live and famous for beginning in the rainy season and yes it often rains during the event.

    So, no more being a paintergeist, it’s time to start turning up and upsetting people with my bad jokes until they find a way to exorcise me.

    You can read here about my final day at this exhibition when I went for a walk in the mountains.

    Postscript

    This story was originally written in August of 2014. I edited it in 2022.

    The painting I added here is my favorite one at the exhibition.