A day in Bath with Lucy Augé
‘I started by painting the obvious things that I thought you should paint as an artist: landscapes and still lifes.’ From her studio, nestled in a secluded corner of the Bath countryside, Lucy Augé spoke of her reasons for working alongside nature and the seasons. ‘But the more I peeled back what was imprinted from art school and art history, I found that by being out in nature every day I discovered my own voice and what lights me up.’ The flower and plant forms that have become Lucy’s subjects sway between abstraction and representation, capturing a fragile essence synonymous with the natural world. Lucy described nature as her eternal muse by virtue of its wavering ways. ‘It is unpredictable, which is a little bit like me. The work evolves each year just like I do.’
Lucy is a patient observer, waiting for the seasons to present what they will for her to paint. These intermittent observations depict the subtle differences between the flower and plant specimens that she studies, gravitating towards less obvious forms that are often overlooked, even discarded. The weeds, ordinary blooms and common trees, easily missed in the rush of modern life, are all part of Lucy’s everyday experience.
It was an unseasonably warm morning in November when I met Lucy. The painterly swoops of a light blue sky were a welcome relief after a succession of dismal days. Lucy greeted me at the train station with a ready smile and relaxed way. I felt instantly at ease in her company and was delighted when she offered to introduce me to a few local haunts before we headed to her remote studio.
We sauntered along Bath’s World Heritage streets, walking its sweeping crescents of Georgian terraces and glowing honey-coloured stone. I asked Lucy if she had a favorite spot nearby and she spoke of the lesser known canal paths for an alternative view of the city. ‘The backs of the buildings are the most interesting,’ Lucy explained, illustrating her eye for finding beauty often unnoticed. ‘When building them the fronts were kept uniform but they were able to do what they liked at the back.’
‘A beautiful bubble’ is how Lucy would describe Bath to anyone who has never visited. Ambling across history-worn cobbles, I could understand her contentment in calling such a place home. Lucy went on to say that while Bath famously caters for the tourists, it’s also somewhere that treasures independent establishments and heartily supports local artisans.
Lucy’s guide to Bath
George Bayntun
We first paused outside a handsome Victorian building with large arched windows and four gables. George Bayntun is a bookshop that specialises in bookbinding and rare first editions. Sadly they were closed but I’m plotting to return to take a look at the unaltered 1930s interior.
Magalleria
Magalleria is a print lovers paradise offering an eclectic spread of independent magazines. While browsing the shelves, Lucy pointed out a couple of her favourite titles: Milk Magazine and The Plant Magazine.
Topping & Company
Books stretched from the floor to the ceiling at Topping & Company, where tall wooden ladders beckoned customers to explore the higher levels. The Bath store is a carefully curated space, each genre with its own nook. Lucy pored over the cookbooks and other non-fiction sections while I gathered a couple of early Christmas presents. The gifts were made all the more special for having covered dust jackets, usually reserved for vintage editions. Such attention to detail extends to the offer of complimentary tea, coffee and biscuits for all browsers. It felt like a real community hub, complete with a lively events programme and regulars that drop in for a cup of tea and leisurely afternoon read.
Francis Gallery
Francis Gallery occupies the ground floor of a Grade II-listed Georgian townhouse. The gallery is a minimal, calm space showing work from upcoming international artists. English and Korean aesthetics come together here, balancing a respect for the local setting with the cultural heritage of gallery director Rosa Park, also editor and co-founder of Cereal magazine. We were welcomed by the delicious aroma of sandalwood from incense burning on the front desk. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the city and drenched the front room in sunlight, illuminating a striking collection of abstract paintings by Jean-Baptiste Besançon. Lucy described her favourite exhibit here to date: the classic forms and highly tactile surfaces of sculptures by potter Paul Philip. Flowing through into the back room were ceramics and selected antiques, as well as bespoke pieces of furniture by designer Fred Rigby. In parts, it felt like a well-coordinated home. The furnishings change from show to show in parity with the works on the walls. You are very much encouraged to engage with the space, to get close to the artworks.
8 Holland Street
8 Holland Street is a design shop where paintings, textiles and homeware sit beautifully within a 19th-century interior. It’s well worth a visit to take in the feature wrap-around gallery, Victorian mahogany counter and display cases.
TOAST
I’m a big fan of the UK clothing brand TOAST and was thrilled when Lucy showed me inside their Bath shop, a light and airy space with high ceilings and a mezzanine area. TOAST are well known for their thoughtfully made pieces designed for practical everyday use. Lucy and I swooned over the collection in store while she excitedly spoke of a collaboration with TOAST to happen in spring 2020.
I returned to Bath the following March and called in at TOAST to see Lucy’s exhibition, A Love Letter to Spring: a beautiful assemblage of works which perfectly accompanied the earthy tones and textures of TOAST’s seasonal collection. Lucy also created a set of three letterpress cards (currently available in TOAST stores and online) that were taken from wild flower studies using a calligraphy brush and Japanese inks. I have since asked Lucy how she found collaborating with TOAST. She spoke of them being a dream company to work with who ‘have a lot of respect for the integrity of the artist’.
Beckford Bottle Shop
We paused outside Beckford Bottle Shop, Lucy’s favourite place to eat in Bath, with candlelit rooms for intimate evening dinners and drinks. I noted it down for my next visit, along with a couple of other chosen spots that we hadn’t time to seek out: her favourite pub, The Star, and cafe, Landrace Bakery.
We stopped for lunch at Yen Sushi and over a pot of green tea the questions I had prepared were forgotten. I was drawn to Lucy’s earthy no-nonsense approach and infectious curiosity, such strength of character that can be attributed to an old soul who has been through more than their years suggest. Lucy has had her fair share of misfortune which she has overcome with stout-hearted determination. During her second year at university, she took a day trip to London and was attacked at random while walking down the street. A blow to the head left Lucy with a brain injury and suffering from seizures for many years. With an admirably positive outlook, she told of finding focus through gardening during her recovery. While too weak to leave the family home, Lucy’s father encouraged her to help out in the garden, igniting a passion in Lucy that hasn't dwindled. Lucy speaks of watching things grow across the seasons, renewing the patience that saw her through recuperation. It was during this period that she began to notice and paint the details in nature that have subsequently shaped her practice.
As her health improved Lucy was able to complete her degree, going on to work as an illustrator. But a yearning for painting and passion for garden life persisted. Lucy described another turning point, following a meeting with a successful carpet designer that she was set to work with. The designer told Lucy that she wouldn’t be an artist without marrying someone rich and that he would only collaborate if she found a buyer for one of his pieces. Understandably enraged and tired of waiting for the assistance of others to help launch her career, it inspired Lucy to take the plunge and work towards her first solo exhibition. Lucy rented a gallery space in Bath and invited everyone that had ever expressed an interest in her art, along with people she admired for their own work. The exhibition consisted of 500 drawings of different flowers, all created over the course of a single summer. These inky impressions were each made in one swift take, mirroring the fleeting liveliness of the organic forms that they portray. The exhibition was a great success, followed by shows in Japan and San Francisco, along with commissions to draw in private gardens. Lucy resourcefully put the proceeds from this first solo show towards the purchase of her studio.
By mid afternoon the sun was beginning to retreat and we decided to make tracks for the studio. The car beetled along winding country roads between the wrinkled fields that spread out around the city. Bath seemed to sit at the bottom of a deep bowl of rising pastureland. Lucy’s work celebrates the beauty of this rural landscape and I questioned whether she has always felt such a strong connection to it. ‘Yes, we have always lived in the countryside. My bedroom looks out across the trees. I couldn’t have it any other way.’ We turned down a track where the shaded cushions of hedgerows curved towards an old stone farmhouse and corrugated barn. ‘I first came here as two tree surgeons who rent the tractor barn had a small room at the back which they said I could rent’ Lucy explained. ‘We met at the pub where I worked. I had mentioned to the locals that I needed a studio and then these guys popped in one day and said they had a place. I just had to be introduced to Mr Rittner first, who owned the barn and land. His mother had loved to paint and he thought it would be nice to have an artist on site. So that’s how I came to be here’. We parked opposite the farmhouse where a group of Mr Rittner’s family and friends were enjoying nibbles around tables laid out across the courtyard. The party turned out to be a syndicate of local farmers dressed head to toe in classic English country attire ready for a pheasant shoot. We all waved friendly hellos before Lucy and I approached the adjacent meadow.
‘Over time when my business took off I looked at renting my own land and building a studio on it, which I did eventually’ Lucy gestured towards a Japanese-style summer house that waited for us across the field. With a bold, jet-black exterior and large picture windows reflecting the surrounding grasses and brambles, it somehow managed to both stand out from and be absorbed by the landscape. I paused along the well-trodden track leading to the studio door to look at a curious chunk of stone resting atop a tree stump. ‘It was my first time at a stone carving workshop,’ Lucy explained. ‘I really wanted to venture into sculpture but I just don't have the muscles! But that was what I produced from a piece of Bath stone. I just wanted to let the work reveal itself and I really like that it shows all my chisels. It is very tactile.’ We were interrupted by the cackle of a rogue pheasant and Lucy told of them being her constant companions, strutting about the place and tapping on the windows at their reflections. Nature is certainly something that can’t be locked out by the studio walls here.
Stepping inside, I let my eyes travel slowly round the artfully curated space of muted tones and natural textures: wooden walls and surfaces, stone bowls and earthenware, woven wicker baskets and rattan rugs, thick scraps of torn canvas, bundles of antique papers, ceramics spouting dried flowers plucked from the land just beyond the window. I studied various rock and crystal fragments carefully positioned about the space and asked Lucy about the collection. ‘I have them in the studio as I find them really grounding, also sculpturally beautiful. Without sounding too pretentious I think mother nature is the best sculptor. I collect quite a lot from all over and also get given them by people which I think is really nice too.’ Lucy then pointed out her favourite object in the space, a large sideboard that she had commissioned by the carpenter Alex Roberts. ‘Don’t try looking for him on Google’ she advised, before adding that he corresponds to enquiries only by hand-written letters. ‘The sideboard is made from ash and beech and was inspired by the work of John Pawson and Scandinavian furniture. It has become my heirloom piece which I will have forever.’
I pressed Lucy about her daily rituals at the studio. ‘I always make myself a tisane first thing. I get mine from My Cup of Tea in Soho in London. Then I usually listen to a podcast while packing up orders that have come in for Atelier Augé. Once that is done I go out and find something I want to paint from outside, or go on a longer walk to find some new inspiration. Then the rest of the afternoon I’m painting’ she nodded towards a desk sat in a corner flooded with light from the soaring windows.
Ink dribbled down the sides of enamel cups, lovingly blotting the surface of the workspace. Select paint brushes were suspended in the wire springs of a metal well, awaiting use on Lucy’s latest endeavour that was draped across the desk. It was one of a series of works exploring the transitory qualities of shadows cast by trees. Lucy seeks to show the brief moments of a shadow’s apparition beneath a tree canopy before it changes and eventually disappears.
Working quickly with Japanese and Sumi inks for their fluidity and gradient, she focuses on an area of cascading branches and the abstract pockets of white sky between their leaves, capturing not so much an outline but the quick flicker of their distorted forms. Lucy told of the works coming about one hot summer’s afternoon while lazing about the studio. She dozily watched the reflections of the surrounding trees in the glass of an old framed painting and considered how quickly they changed, how timing was everything when it came to perceiving them. With a birch branch to hand, she experimented with hanging it up in the window. As the sun passed over, the shape of the birch appeared on the ground and in haste Lucy rolled out a scroll of paper beneath it and began to draw. She opened the drawer of a large wooden antique plan chest to show me different paintings from her shadow series, alongside others beautifully framed and propped up against the studio walls. I found such nostalgia in these pieces, taking me back to a childhood infatuation with lying on the soft grass beneath a tree and observing the sunlight tumbling through its leaves. I felt as though I could fall into each painting and sense their shadows dancing across my face.
I asked Lucy if there was a body of her work that she feels most content with. ‘I don't put anything out that I am not happy with, my body of work is highly curated, and I love it all! I am not a self-deprecating artist. I could live with my work on my wall. That's the test for me, if I don't want to see the work every day or it makes me cringe, it goes in the compost bin. But my most enjoyable works are the etchings, purely as the process of creating an etching is quite magical.’
Lucy’s series of black and white etchings have come from her time spent making work in the garden of garden designer Dan Pearson and his partner Huw Morgan. Up on an airy hillside on the outskirts of Bath, the garden abounds with flowers and plants collected from around the world. Lucy’s etching process starts with an exposure of a specimen found in the garden onto photographic paper, in turn exposed onto a metal plate. Each plate can only last for a few printings, with every print differing according to how the ink is spread, the nature of which lends itself to the ephemeral essence that spans Lucy’s practice. ‘I have an end goal for how many I want to produce, which is seventy two,’ Lucy added. ‘That is the number of the Japanese micro seasons and where the inspiration stemmed from. It is quite nice to have a goal or endpoint with an art project like this as a lot of the time it is very unknown.’ The project is currently ongoing and will reflect the changes of the garden across the seasons. Lucy’s etching experiments were taped to the panelled walls of the studio and she showed me a beautiful collection of these limited editions printed on German cotton paper. As with her shadow paintings, there is a stripped back elegance to these prints that allows the delicate shapes of both positive and negative space to come forward.
After locking up the studio we went for a stroll around the farm where the views from any slight rise go on for miles across gently undulating pasture land. It was easy to understand Lucy’s deep rapport with the rural peace of such a place that turns slowly to each season, walking the same trails each day to notice the smallest changes. I pictured the bright wildflowers of summer bursting beyond the door, equally as beautiful as the brittle weed encrusted hedgerows that we saw that day. I asked Lucy if she had a favourite time of year to be working here. ‘Definitely the spring. It's not too hot and not too cold so you can have the doors open. Everything is coming back into life and the cow parsley is in full swing. I let it take over the field so the studio is completely hidden. It's a beautiful time.’
We then took a short drive to one of Lucy’s favourite walking trails with views across the Bath skyline. Up on the hill everything glowed in the last of the day's sun. The breeze smelt of autumnal rot mixed with the wood smoke that rose in plumes above distant rooftops. A seasonal shift was in the air. Lucy told of always starting a new body of work when the seasons turn, this rhythm giving her parameters to work within. As we walked, she opened up about other upcoming changes and her plans to leave the studio. ‘I own the building and rent the field from the landowners. My contract is coming up for renewal, I have been there 5 years now and really want to own my own place. So the money I get from the sale of the studio will go towards getting me on the property ladder. A scary thought, but it is one that has been nagging me for a long time’. Lucy has been living with her family since her injury. Having gone over a year without suffering from seizures, I could see what it meant to her to now feel confident enough to be taking these steps. Equally, how hard it will be to move on from the studio, which, in Lucy’s words ‘has been a sanctuary, a place of my own where I can retreat to and process my own thoughts. It has evolved my work so much. The limbo part will be hard to adjust to as I will be without a studio’ she added. ‘I really need that place to lay my work out and be alone with my thoughts but I’m hoping this change will inspire a new wave of work. I have spoken to the farm and they said I can come back and paint anytime. They've said I’m part of the family now.’
We warmed up back at Lucy’s home where I met her parents and gorgeous little dog, Luca. Lucy’s mother kindly invited me to dinner and Lucy took me to a local pub while it was on the go. Set in the beautiful village of Wellow, The Fox and Badger is an unspoilt country inn where Lucy used to work. She was welcomed fondly by the huddle of farmers that clustered beneath hops hanging from sturdy beams above the bar. We found a snug corner next to the blazing wood burner and conversation turned to our families. Lucy spoke of her parents with great affection. ‘I am very lucky to have pretty bohemian parents who chase their dreams and are not worried about going against societal norms. So growing up in that household going down the art route was never frowned upon, which I think is a big thing when it comes to getting started. Having people to emotionally back you and having it come from your parents is huge. Basically one less person to prove yourself to.’ We chatted the time away so effortlessly that we completely lost track of it. A quick glance at my phone imparted the shock revelation that I would have to miss dinner as my train was in twenty minutes. A hurried drive to the station, too quick a goodbye and mad dash along the platform meant that I squeezed through the carriage doors moments before they closed. As the train shunted me back towards London I felt a sharp pang of sadness to be leaving. Bath is a wonderful city, made all the more special for its surrounding countryside. The places that Lucy introduced me to had only confirmed the connection I felt to this beautiful part of the world.
Lucy’s practice can be likened to gardening: a mindful process that, combined with productivity, brings her an honest and fulfilling sense of peace. The day with Lucy reminded me that it’s sometimes all too easy to forget what’s going on outside. Her story and the considered details of her art highlight the importance of time spent observing those overlooked moments in nature, and by extension, in our everyday lives.
A LITTLE Q&A
Who are you most inspired by – as an artist and in general?
This is a layered question as I’m inspired by so many in little ways. I look around for artists' examples of how they have overcome the hurdles you get along the way in your art practice and selling in the art world. And then I use these examples more as guidance rather than their work itself to inspire my own. Nature inspires my work. Monet is my all-time favourite. I adore his work. He really understood his practice. David Hockney's attitude towards not caring what others think and being very prolific.Grayson Perry's views and honesty about the art world I find very inspiring and educational. I have learnt a lot from him, especially his Reith lectures. Also Louise Bourgeois – how she worked mainly on paper, which gave me a sense of calm that I could work mainly on paper too, as I was getting a lot of pressure to work on canvas.
How are you finding the drawing workshops that you've started leading?
I had worried that I was going to produce a lot of mini-mes, that people would go away and copy me. But once I got over that and realised people do it anyway even without coming to a workshop, I really opened up and enjoyed the process of teaching the techniques that I have learnt along the way. I plan to do them monthly. My first group said the workshops are very relaxing and that you really get into a zen state of creating, so I feel I have succeeded as that is what I had hoped to teach.
What are your favourite pastimes outside of your practice?
I don't know how to explain it. Basically I gather up loads of recommendations of places to visit. I love to go and explore new places while ticking off these recommendations, like a treasure map. The more low-key pastime is watching movies. I adore watching a good film.
Do you have a favourite place to escape to?
I just like getting in my car and going for a drive sometimes with no destination in sight. See where I end up.
Do you have a favourite UK holiday destination?
Not really, I love most places. I like reading your blog to discover new places to go to. You gave me great suggestions when I was down in Cornwall.
When you travel do you take your materials with you?
Yes I do, always a sketchbook and a pen. Keep it simple.
Have you ever travelled back to a place just to make work from it?
Yes, I travel back to the Smugglers Inn which is in Osmington in Dorset. There are huge rock formations nearby in all different colour palettes. It’s tricky to get to as the steps have eroded so not many people go down there now.
Lucy’s work is available to buy from a catalogue via her website, where there is more information about her upcoming drawing workshops. Botanical prints and greeting cards from Lucy’s archives can be browsed here and you can also find Lucy on Instagram.