Photography and abstract painting are two distinct practices in my work, but they share a common starting point: a particular way of looking at the world. Both involve finding visual relationships, making choices about composition, and discovering how light, shape, tone and space can be brought together to create something meaningful.
Although the two mediums are closely connected in the way I see and think, they offer very different possibilities. Photography begins with something observed and found, with the image made on film or as a digital file, whereas abstract painting allows me to move very far away from what is seen and explore a more open, intuitive form of expression from a blank canvas.
When I photograph, I come across light, shapes, tones and textures that excite my visual curiosity and make me want to explore them further. It might be the relationship between forms, the quality of a particular light, a subtle tonal shift or the way space is divided within the frame.
I then look for the most meaningful way to express what has caught my attention. How should I frame the composition? What should be included, and what should be left out? What point of view will best communicate what I see?
These decisions are central to my photography. I am not simply recording a subject; I am looking for a personal way of expressing it. Spatial relationships and the visual impact of what I see are particularly important to me. Through careful framing and selection, something familiar can become ambiguous, abstract or unexpectedly compelling.
The challenge for me is discovering new possibilities within the constraints of what is in front of the camera, even when the composition moves towards abstraction. I use the act of looking to find an image that feels visually distinctive and personally meaningful.
My abstract paintings have developed through a different process. In recent work, I have become increasingly selective and careful about maintaining restraint within the image, while allowing myself to be creatively free and loose in the way I work.
That balance is important. I want the paintings to retain a sense of freedom and spontaneity, but I also want to remain mostly in control of the relationships between the marks, colours, shapes and spaces. A painting can be energetic without becoming uncontrolled, just as a quieter composition can carry considerable visual tension.
A change in my approach came when I began to abandon some of the traditional rules I had previously relied upon. This did not mean abandoning the knowledge and skill I had acquired. Instead, it meant allowing that knowledge to remain active in the background, particularly my understanding of fluid mediums, while becoming more open to possibilities I could not have planned in advance.
The result has been an approach that feels both freer and more deliberate. I can respond intuitively to what is happening on the paper while making considered decisions about what the painting needs. Sometimes that means adding something; at other times, it means recognising when to stop.
My recent paintings have developed through a process of layering and progressively reducing the elements that go into the image. I think about the painting as a whole, considering how different layers of colour, tone and mark-making might come together to form the finished work.
There is some planning in advance, but the actual process of painting remains spontaneous and very much in the moment. I might begin with a broad layer of yellow and blue, working across the whole sheet in a single, sustained effort. Rather than concentrating on one isolated area at a time, I try to fulfil the expression of that layer across the entire image, responding to the composition as a complete entity.
Once that layer has been established, I can turn my attention to another, perhaps introducing ink and allowing a different kind of mark, movement or contrast to emerge. Each layer becomes an individual act of expression, with its own character and purpose, while contributing to the painting as a whole.
This way of working allows me to approach the image in stages without losing sight of its overall balance. Each layer is considered in relation to what is already there, but I don't want to determine every detail before it happens. The behaviour of the watercolour, ink and other fluid elements brings its own possibilities, and I want to remain receptive to those as they emerge.
I also consider each mark in relation to everything else in the image. A mark cannot be judged in isolation; its significance depends on its relationship with the surrounding colours, forms, spaces and other marks. Something that works in one part of the painting may alter the balance elsewhere. Maintaining an awareness of the whole is therefore essential, even when the act of painting itself is instinctive.
The challenge is to retain restraint without suppressing freedom. By working across the image one layer at a time, I can maintain a sense of overall structure while allowing the fluid medium to work its magic. I want to leave room for the unexpected, but I also want the marks to contribute to the balance, movement and presence of the finished painting.
A shared concern in my photography and abstract painting is the process of visual reduction: finding what matters most within an image and allowing it to carry the composition.
This involves looking closely at the relationships between elements rather than concentrating solely on the objects themselves. Light, tone, texture, shape and space can become as important as any recognisable subject. A small change in position, proportion or contrast can alter the entire balance of an image.
Ambiguity is also important to me. I am interested in images that do not explain everything immediately, but leave room for the viewer to look, reflect and form their own response. What is suggested can sometimes be as significant as what is clearly defined.
In photography, these qualities emerge through observation, framing and selection. In abstract painting, they can be developed more freely through the physical process of making the work. The two practices share an interest in how an image can be reduced to its essential relationships, but each arrives there in its own way.
I don't think of my photographs as sources for my paintings, or my paintings as extensions of particular photographs. They are separate practices, each with its own demands and possibilities.
Photography requires me to work with what I encounter, discovering a composition within the world as it presents itself. Abstract painting gives me greater freedom to invent, alter and develop an image through the process of making it. I can follow an idea, change direction, introduce uncertainty or allow a mark to take the work somewhere unexpected.
What connects them is the underlying visual interest: the search for meaningful composition, the balance between restraint and spontaneity, and the possibilities created by light, space, tone and ambiguity.
Working in both mediums continues to develop the way I see. Each offers a different set of challenges, and each allows me to explore visual ideas that might otherwise remain undiscovered. The relationship is not about transferring images from one medium to another, but about pursuing a shared interest in how we look, interpret and make sense of what we see.
You can explore my photographic work at Timothy Gent Photography, where I develop my interest in composition, light, tone, space and visual relationships through the photographic image.
My abstract paintings and abstract art take some of these underlying visual interests in a different direction, working more freely with colour, form, texture, layering and the possibilities of abstraction.
Although photography and abstract painting are separate practices, they are connected by a shared interest in visual expression and the way we see and interpret the world.
