Cathy Layzell and the Art of Colour

I recently stumbled across Cathy Layzell's work quite by chance at The Gallery in Riebeek Kasteel – and something about her use of colour drew me in before I could even understand why. I must have circled her paintings three or four times, each time noticing something new – a passage of light, a shift in tone, a brushstroke that somehow suggests an entire landscape without spelling it out.

At close range, her paintings are constructed from the textures of nature – rock, foliage, air, water – nearly abstract, a dancing network of innumerable brushstrokes. Step back and something coherent emerges – a forest, a ravine, a particular quality of light on a particular kind of afternoon. It's the kind of painting that rewards time, patience, and a willingness to just look.

When I found out she was Cape Town-based, I felt even more of an affinity. She was born here, trained at Rhodes and Michaelis, and later spent years developing her colour theory at the Painting School of Montmirail in the South of France before coming home. That combination – rigorous training, deep colour knowledge, and a practice rooted entirely in the natural world – shows in every work. And then you look at the titles: Crystal Pools, Kogelberg. Cecilia Ferns. Greyton Ravine. These are our places. Our light. Our landscape rendered in oil on canvas by someone who clearly loves it as much as we do.

Her recent work is a symphony of layered, coloured mark-making and play of light – the dense muted tones of Monet, the energy of de Kooning, and her own fanciful play of dots, dashes and swirls. But what stays with you isn't the reference points. It's the feeling.

And if I were to buy one, I honestly don't know which one I'd choose.

Cathy Layzell's work is exhibited at Kalk Bay Modern and Eclectica Contemporary

For current exhibitions and available works, visit rkcontemporary.com