Archive / Repetitions

Oil Paintings

Oil Paintings is a series inspired by a small educational book I discovered in a charity shop simply titled Oil. The publication contained a series of geological diagrams explaining how oil is formed beneath the earth's surface. They were simple illustrations showing layers of rock, salt domes and underground reservoirs, with only the briefest suggestion of human activity above the ground: a few trees, a road and the occasional truck. The images presented oil as an entirely neutral geological phenomenon.

By 2001 I had become increasingly concerned with environmental issues and the growing geopolitical importance of petroleum. The First Gulf War had already demonstrated how profoundly oil shaped international politics, and it seemed impossible to separate the resource beneath the earth from the industries, conflicts and landscapes that existed above it. The geological diagrams became the starting point for a series of paintings that asked a simple question: if these are the structures beneath the ground, what are the consequences on the surface?

The paintings retain the simplified language of geological cross-sections, constructed from stippled surfaces and repeated potato prints that echo sedimentary layers. Above these strata, however, the world changes. Using transferred photographic imagery, I replaced the anonymous trees and trucks of the original illustrations with the infrastructures, landscapes and cultures created by the petroleum industry. For the first time, the paintings deliberately ask the viewer to look simultaneously above and below the surface of the earth.

Donkeys takes its title from the familiar nickname given to oil pumpjacks. Rows of nodding pumps occupy the landscape while the skyline of Houston appears in the distance. The painting contrasts the repetitive mechanical choreography of extraction with the city whose prosperity depends upon it.

Gulf Links juxtaposes the manicured perfection of Pebble Beach Golf Links with the hidden geology beneath. The title deliberately blurs the language of leisure with that of the Persian Gulf, reflecting on the quiet spaces where political and commercial relationships are often forged far from public view.

Refined presents repeated refinery towers rising above an arid landscape. The title refers equally to the industrial process of refining crude oil and to ideas of sophistication and progress, questioning the language through which industry often presents itself.

Crude Seascape combines the Old Man of Hoy with a geological cross-section of the sea beneath it. Remembering dives around Scapa Flow and the nearby Flotta Oil Terminal, the painting overlays personal experience with the hidden geological structures that make extraction possible.

Pump transforms the familiar petrol station forecourt into a geological diagram, with underground reservoirs echoing the storage tanks hidden beneath the surface. Everyday infrastructure is revealed as part of a much larger unseen system.

Ice Station places Arctic research stations above frozen strata, the sea and finally the oil trapped beneath. Scientific exploration, environmental fragility and resource extraction occupy the same vertical landscape. The painting asks where the boundaries lie between scientific curiosity, environmental responsibility and commercial ambition.

Prospectors presents repeated views of Las Vegas and the surrounding desert. The painting explores the speculative nature of oil exploration, drawing parallels between geological prospecting and gambling, where enormous fortunes are built upon uncertainty, probability and risk.

City Slickers brings the series to an unexpected conclusion. The title merges the language of oil slicks with commodity traders and financial speculation. The image itself remains deliberately ambiguous: is it a geological cross-section, a sea polluted by oil, or both? Beyond it stands the New York skyline, including the World Trade Center. I was working on this transfer on the morning of 11 September 2001 as the attacks unfolded. Later that day I produced a digital response using the same skyline, which was subsequently exhibited in New York as part of Reactions before entering the collection of the Library of Congress. More importantly for my own practice, the image became the starting point for the Porpoise works, opening another chapter in my exploration of memory, history and place.

Looking back, Oil Paintings now feels like a turning point. Although concerned with politics and environmental issues, the series also marks the moment when my attention began to shift towards the ground itself. Beneath every landscape lay another story waiting to be uncovered. In retrospect, the geological diagrams that first inspired these paintings point towards an enduring preoccupation with strata, surfaces and the hidden histories embedded within the earth—questions that would continue through Porpoise, Rhizomes and, later, find their fullest expression through archaeology.