On the crossover between art and writing

Diana Copperwhite, Patricia Highsmith, 'Sunlight', Beach-combing by Sinéad Gleeson

Am editing my book, and have realised that writing books really kills your ability to read books. As in physically read them at the same pace and in the same volume. I’ve been craving old books, short things, standalone pieces. Hoping normal service will resume when the novel is finally done.

One excellent distraction this week was Diana Copperwhite's Onomatopoeia at Highlanes Gallery, curated by Aoife Ruane. There are few painters who can put so on one canvas - moods, objects, trademark bands of colour - auras, or 1980s TV test colours, or the Halo-esque echo of Mainie Jellett (we are in a religious space, after all) creating woozy perspectives and angles.

Seclusion (2023) by Diana Copperwhite

In the main gallery room, immense canvases hang low to the ground, dramatically lit. Many of the pieces are recent, and there are several small works, some playful and distinct from the larger ones, some almost microcosms. Often, amid such an expanse of lines and colour, something minute stands ou…