Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Frances Keevil
Gatya Kelly

Even in the deepest darkness there is light. Can a painter inspire those who see her work to look more carefully at the world around them and discover its extraordinary beauty? My still life work isn’t political or confronting. I’m not trying to challenge anyone. It’s a reminder that the unpredictability and lurking chaos of the outside world is only transient. Living with beautiful objects that pay tribute to the natural world is an invitation to step back and reconnect with who we are. I wrote these words in late 2019 for my last exhibition with France Keevil prior to heading off to Europe for a break. Reading them again almost two years later they seem almost prophetic. I am still in Europe, moving from country to country as the pandemic unfolds, waiting for the opportunity to return to my home in Byron Bay. My latest small works are a response to two places where I have painted this year – on the island of Corfu in Greece where the pomegranates are abundant, and in Devon UK where even the weeds are beautiful.