Dominique Cameron
Title: With my back to the sea, the hills voyage West
Size: 150cm x 84cm
Medium: Charcoal on Board

Price: £1850 Unframed

Make an Enquiry

About the Artist

Rannoch Moor - Dominique Cameron 2020

This project began with a question. How can you paint emptiness?

I chose Rannoch Moor for my exploration.

Rannoch is vast. Fifty square miles of bog land, surrounded by hills. It is a high plateau, a watershed which flows either to the Atlantic in the west or to the North Sea in the east. The weather is fickle - cloud, rain, sun, snow, all in a day at any time of the year with little warning. Watching a weather forecast is rarely accurate. The plan was to try and express the moorness of the Moor – to understand at least a little of what this place is – its silence and anxiety tinged beauty. Trying to walk in this world is hard, beyond difficult. Walking a straight line is impossible as you sink and are sucked into the peat and wet, a wet that seeps into boots, socks, mind.

I loved the adventure of this landscape – the wide horizon, the sound of the wind. It is not empty, but full of life and death; whole cycles play out underfoot, a record of our history, of time.  

Solitary, magnificent.  A place to get lost. 

Terra Incognita.

Education –

1989-92 – Napier University, Edinburgh – B.A. Photography (Distinction).

2013-14 – Duncan of Jordanstone College of Art and Design, Dundee – MFA Art, Society and Publics.

As an artist my practice is rooted in landscape. I walk, draw, paint, write and film my encounters through the urban environment and the rural. I grew up in the West country, a place of beauty, boredom and economic division. The most exciting thing for us as teenagers was the local disco on a Friday night and waiting for the Top 40 on a Sunday tea-time, trying to tape it on our mono tape recorders. This lack of adventure led to walking, away from home. There were particular routes I would take often, places I got to know in detail. It was a kind of ‘mapping’, charting the unknown parts of my surrounding landscape. To this day it is something I do on arrival in a new place, except now I make things that articulate what I find as artefact, as document as re-imagined memory of place. The teenage girl is still there, I can’t quite seem to shake her off, but its comforting to know I am still as curious and awkward and persistent.