Before our trip to the Nile in February this year, my knowledge of Egypt was a sketchy patchwork of Tutankhamun, quotes from Antony and Cleopatra and a poorly-grasped smattering of C20th history. The trip was proposed prior to the arrival of US carrier groups in the region, and in those more innocent times, focussing rather on things like what we’d be eating and the ‘facilities’ in our rooms, I just hoped we would avoid that kind of debacle. In a way though, lack of knowledge is no impediment to artistic production- in fact I think all that really matters is the romantic pull of the subject matter. And in that respect, Egypt, and specifically the banks of the beautiful Nile, delivered spectacularly. I hope my 40 oils bear witness to the excitement I felt looking at everything around me, and that they have brought back home something of the wonderful warmth of Egypt.
Painting 'the exotic’ is no longer considered appropriate artistic practice. My 4x great-grandfather Thomas Allom, a superb exponent of this kind of work, although I am not sure he ever went to Egypt, was a dab hand at a ruin staffed by a couple of be-turbaned shepherds. I told myself I would not go there, but why paint other tourists? Figures add scale and are ’true’ at least up to a point (every temple has its local guards in traditional dress). The Nile is for the most part exceptionally beautiful, all the more so because of Egypt’s land mass 94% is uninhabitable desert. When you first glimpse from the aeroplane window the green ribbon of the Nile slinking through the deep ochre vastness, something stirs in the soul. And standing at the green edge of the valley, you are never unaware of the desert’s looming proximity, that the Nile gives life to a tiny, precious, bit of land, the cradle of a civilisation immensely older than ours.
We were four artists to start with, six by the end, initially concerned with how polluted Luxor has become, and struggling at times to settle into work in the sometimes chaotic street environment. As a plein air artist one is forced to work fast and with confidence. The scene changes so quickly, and one has to contend with crowds of people asking questions, children picking up and fiddling with tubes of paint, and the general hubbub of life. We visited a village where we painted donkeys and carts, and where I was quickly surrounded many bare-footed children. But I was also given tea and a warm welcome. At Dandara temple complex we encountered bureaucracy at its most frustrating- the easels simply were not to pass through security! Inexplicably, the Director didn’t want messy paints and easel contraptions spreading themselves all over the ancient stones.
I loved the energy and openness of the Egyptians and the variety of subject matter crammed into that lush strip of the Nile valley: everything from donkeys and camels to feluccas in sail or moored up, and of course the majestic pylons and obelisks of the great archeological sites. Mrs Martineau, whose Egyptian work can be seen later this year, stoically endured cockroaches and wood ants in the bathroom at Aswan, and I thank her, our distinguished leader Richard Foster PPRP who instigated the whole thing, along with all our fellow artist-traveller-friends, for making it such a happy and productive time. A shout out, too, to ‘Bob Marley’ and his tuk-tuk for helping us secure booze in Luxor, and to Zizu in Aswan who performed the same artistically vital task, albeit by boat. Did I mention the time we almost met Mick Jagger? Well, we were in the Old Cataract Hotel in Aswan when he casually walked past a few feet away. Old Stones? The place is absolutely chokka with them.
Luke Martineau, 2026
● Sold
● Reserved
If you are interested in any of the reserved paintings, it is worth contacting the gallery as they may become available.
