The Art Journal
Impressions of a Turner Landscape – Sunrise: Light, Memory, and Turner’s Legacy
I am delighted to introduce a brand-new addition to my most successful series, the Impressions of a Turner Landscape Collection. Unlike earlier works in the series, which I numbered, this new piece carries a more descriptive title: Sunrise. The collection itself is created mostly around 8.30 in the morning, when the sun acts like a film light, sharpening its focus on the water’s surface and revealing reflections that dissolve into abstraction. Sunrise is my interpretation of what nature offers at that moment — an impression shaped by light and imagination — evoking the timeless beauty of dawn. J.M.W. Turner, whose work inspired the title of this collection, often allowed light and atmosphere to dissolve material reality into something more elemental. In his late seascapes, the horizon vanishes into pure colour, pure feeling. I like to think he might have recognised in these water reflections a similar impulse: to see not just what is before the eye, but what lingers in the imagination after the light has passed. For me, Impressions of a Turner Landscape – Sunrise is less about recording a single instant than about capturing the way nature and imagination work together to create a landscape that is at once real and entirely invented. Each time I return to it, I feel both the sharpness of that morning light and the calm clarity of a dawn remembered.
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Songlines on the Surface: Traces of Memory
The Sand Talk Collection has always been about listening to the dialogue between sandstone and water. Sydney sandstone, with its ochres and golds, carries an ancient presence. When reflected on water, it shifts and rewrites itself, becoming a living map of the land. In Songlines on the Surface, my eye settled not on sandstone’s sweep but on a cluster of raised shapes floating across the reflection. They appeared less like simple surface marks and more like an aerial petroglyph — fragile traces inscribed by water, echoing the way pathways, stories, and memory become embedded in country. The naming of the work was not straightforward. At first, I was struck by sandstone’s shimmer, its ochres and golds. But as the reflection unfolded, it became something else: water becoming land, sandstone becoming map. From that recognition emerged a deeper connection to ancient motifs, marks that seem at once fleeting and timeless. This work is part of a continuing exploration into how reflections on water reveal more than surface appearances. They offer traces of memory — songlines inscribed not in stone, but in light and movement.
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Beneath a Golden Horizon: A Drift into the LandEscapes Collection
Beneath a Golden Horizon is my latest addition to the LandEscapes Collection. The work, and the fluid, dream-like animation that accompanies it, delves deeper into the central themes that have driven this series from its inception: the porous boundary between perception and imagination, and the creative power of ambiguity. The LandEscapes Collection began almost by accident. When downloading photographs that I hadn’t deliberately framed—just fleeting impressions of boats and water—I suddenly noticed entire landscapes revealed within them. Nature had offered up these abstract vistas, as if by chance, and from that moment the collection took shape. That accident became a turning point. I realised that what I was capturing wasn’t simply a reflection, but an illusion that suggested another kind of place. A horizon line formed out of the shadow of a boat. A mountain range appeared in the ripple of a wake. What was meant to be ordinary became extraordinary, an invitation to escape into imagination. This is where the tension in the work lies. Our brains are wired to make split-second assessments about what we see—an instinctive survival mechanism. At first glance, the eye tells you, “this is a landscape.” Yet with a second look, the certainty unravels. You start to question: am I looking at water, sky, or something altogether different? The work deliberately plays with this moment of doubt, holding you between recognition and uncertainty. That in-between state is where creativity lives. As the viewer, you are not simply observing; you are completing the artwork. You bring your own experiences, memories, and subconscious imagery to what you see, and in doing so, you create landscapes that are uniquely yours. A reflection of a hull might become a desert plain. A glint of sunlight might transform into the shimmer of an endless horizon. Each eye constructs its own world. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="5472"] Beneath A Golden Horizon [/caption] A Subconscious Drift The accompanying animation for Beneath a Golden Horizon is an attempt to capture something closer to my felt sense during these moments of creation. It is not about being submerged or subterranean. Instead, it suggests a drifting into the subconscious, the state I often enter when snapping a shot or in moments of deep reflection. At times, it feels as if nature and water have swallowed my consciousness, holding me in suspension. The new work, Beneath a Golden Horizon, emerged directly from such a state—an in-between place where perception becomes porous, where reflections dissolve into landscapes, and where the horizon is not fixed, but constantly shifting in the mind’s eye. Dwelling in Ambiguity In the end, this is the paradox I invite you into: not to fix what you see, but to dwell in the ambiguity. Here, reflection becomes landscape, perception drifts into imagination, and the horizon shimmers golden—always present, always elusive, always just beyond reach.
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Desert Movement 4: Water, Memory, and the Desert’s Golden Artistry
“I journeyed through the desert not to cross sand, but to uncover the self." — Ralph Kerle, inspired by the spirit of Al-Mutanabbi With the arrival of Desert Movement 4, the Gold in the Desert Collection takes on a new layer of meaning. Captured in the Dubai Marina, this work transforms architecture into fluid bands of gold, cream, and teal—rippling strata of heritage, commerce, and memory. My practice has long been grounded in the belief that reflections are more than optical phenomena. In the right context, they reveal the cultural undercurrents of a place—its unspoken narratives, aspirations, and contradictions. In this way, Desert Movement 4 becomes part of a psychogeographic map, where the city itself performs in the theatre of its own waterways. This relationship between water and abstraction is deeply rooted in Arabic culture, most notably in the art of Ebru. Ebru, which flourished in the Ottoman Empire but has even earlier origins in Central Asia, is the process of floating pigments on the surface of water to create intricate, unrepeatable designs. The image is then transferred onto paper, silk, or other surfaces, capturing a moment of movement forever. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="1200"] Garip Ay, Turkish Ebru Artist [/caption] Historically, Ebru held both practical and spiritual significance. In Islamic decorative arts, where figural representation was often avoided, Ebru offered a way to create beauty through pure abstraction—patterns shaped by the natural flow of water and guided by the artist’s hand. The unpredictability of the process echoed the philosophical belief that divine beauty exists in the balance between order and chaos. By the 17th century, Ebru travelled along trade routes into Europe, where it became known as paper marbling. Western artisans embraced it for bookbinding, calligraphy, and decorative papers, often marvelling at its exotic origins, though rarely acknowledging the depth of its cultural lineage.In Desert Movement 4, these traditions surface again—not through pigment and comb, but through the reflective skin of the Dubai Marina. Here, the city becomes the Ebru bath, with architecture, light, and tide painting their own patterns. The work is both contemporary and ancient, modern abstraction layered upon centuries of decorative tradition. As with all pieces in the Gold in the Desert Collection, Desert Movement 4 invites you to look beyond the surface, to see how the water remembers—and how memory itself ripples through the meeting of desert and sea.
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Sand Talk: Reflections on Water, Culture, and Connection
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="4960"] The Water Knows [/caption] The Water Knows, the newest addition to my Sand Talk Collection, began—as all the works in this series do—with a moment of stillness. A quiet drift across water. A sandstone wall. A flicker of light. And suddenly, what appears on the surface of the water isn’t just a reflection—it’s something older, deeper, and strangely familiar. As a fourth-generation Australian with roots in Northern England, I’ve often felt the pull of two cultural landscapes: the inherited European sensibilities that shape my artistic instincts, and the profound presence of Indigenous Australian culture that surrounds me every day. The Sand Talk Collection is where these threads meet. These artworks are not created in a studio. They are captured in nature—reflections of Sydney Sandstone on water. Sydney Sandstone is ancient, some of it over 200 million years old, its colours and patterns shaped by time, wind, and weather. Through the lens of my camera, and in the fluid canvas of the water’s surface, these stones transform into swirling forms that, to my eye, mirror the visual language of Central Desert Aboriginal sand paintings. What fascinates me—and what I invite you to consider—is this: is the resemblance I see a personal projection, a subconscious echo of a culture I deeply admire? Or are others seeing this too? Central Desert sand paintings, often created using ochres or drawn directly into the ground, are spiritual, symbolic, and communal. They are not merely visual expressions but maps of story, land, and law. The circular forms, the flowing lines, the spatial relationships—they speak to Country in a way that is visceral, rhythmic, and rooted in place. When I see similar forms appearing organically in the reflections I capture, I am struck by the mystery of it. I don’t claim to replicate or reinterpret Aboriginal art. Rather, I see these images as homages—a form of visual respect. Sand Talk is my way of listening, of responding through my medium to the stories etched into this land. The works are not only an artistic reflection, but also a personal investigation into what it means to be an Australian artist of European heritage who is seeking connection with the country’s original cultures and visual histories. The newest work, The Water Knows, invites viewers to consider the question for themselves. Does the land speak to us in visual symbols—no matter our background—when we learn to see slowly? Can water become a mirror not just of stone and sky, but of story? I encourage you to explore The Water Knows and the wider Sand Talk Collection from this perspective. Let the images speak to you, let the patterns ripple through your own interpretations. Perhaps in doing so, we begin to build a bridge—between cultures, between past and present, and between ways of seeing. You can view The Water Knows and the full Sand Talk Collection. Each work is available for acquisition, and I would be honoured for them to find homes with those who see their story. Let’s keep the conversation going—through art, through land, through the water that always knows.
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The Story of the Indeterminate Sublime Exhibition, Mark Rothko Arts Centre, Daugavpils, Latvia.
In recent weeks I have woken to a feeling of disbelief as I scratch my head and wonder how did I end up here? Imagine an extraordinary fortress, built in Tzarist Russia, an impressive structure in the harsh winter landscape. The historic building has endured the 20th century and transformed into a major arts institution featuring iconic pieces of the modern art canon. And when you arrive on the first level and turn right you see Impressions of a Turner Landscape by Ralph Kerle at the entrance to my very own exhibition. But if you turn left you see a room containing 6 or perhaps 7 original Rothko's, each artwork valued at over US$80million. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="1236"] The Mark Rothko Arts Centre, Daugavpils, Latvia [/caption] To my great delight, my exhibition is part of events to commemorate the 10th Anniversary of the Mark Rothko Centre, a very important moment for Daugavpils in their endeavour to become the European Capital of Culture. I am honoured to be part of the international programme celebrating this moment. It is important period for the Centre as it coincides with the introduction of Rothko originals previously unseen in the institution. Every three years the Rothkos on show are exchanged with a new selection of Rothko's original works coming from the archives in New York. This 10-anniversary year is particularly significant for the Centre as the Rothko family chose to gift two original Rothko artworks to celebrate the occasion. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="1220"] From l- r Zane Melane, Head of Collections, Kate Rothko-Prixel, Maris Cacka, Director, Mark Rothko Arts Centre [/caption] I have had an extremely encouraging email from the curator of the Mark Rothko Arts Centre, Aivars Baranovskis, saying "Your exhibition is a huge success in the Rothko Centre with a lot of questions to our exhibition guides and general appreciation of the public." I am very thankful to you, Aivars Baranovskis, for your advice and support in curating my exhibition). Some of you, as collectors of my artwork and subscribers to my Art Journal, may recognize artworks you have acquired as part of this exhibition. A big thank you to you as it is with your support that I have been able to continue to develop the work and my practice that has resulted in this exhibition. The exhibition runs until May 23 in Daugavpils, Latvia
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The Story of the Gold in the Desert Collection
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="2500"] Pollock’s Desert Ebru [/caption] This exhibition is the result of journeys I made to the UAE between 2015 and 2019 to explore the fluid edges of Dubai, a city built from oil and awash with gold, perched ostentatiously on the edge of a sun scorched desert and the Arabian gulf. Dubai was atransit stop on my travels to create exhibitions in Latvia and Portugal but it seemed only natural that manmade waterways in this bold city should eventually capture my attention. My first impressions of Dubai were that of a carefully controlled culture that is unavailable to most outsiders, a place where luxury shopping and amusement parks seem to be its sole raison d'être. The city/state, its history mostly hidden by the brash high-rise buildings,reminded me of a hyperrealist canvas, a mid 20th Century art form born with photorealism as its main influence (think work of American painters Chuck Close and Richard Estes). One evening as I pondered whether I might not actually find the underlying visual aesthetic of this city, I stopped at the Al Rahmin Mosque situated on the banks of the Dubai Marina. As I peered through the windows a young man interrupted my thoughts, tapping me on theshoulder and inviting me to in join him at prayers; he instructed me in the ablution rituals required to enter the Mosque and guided me in the kneeling and mediation process as theprayers proceeded. Slowly the cultural sentience of the Middle East began to embrace me. A visit to the old port city of Deira and the extraordinary Sharjah Museum of Islamic Civilisation revealed a history of an ancient visual culture built on decorative arts that avoided the presentation of living things, instead giving prominence to the work of artisans;the architects, glassmakers, mosaicists, weavers, wood and metal workers that transformed their decorative pursuits into major artworks in their own right. During this visit, I also learnt of the decorative art of Ebru (paper marbling), the process of adding colours tothe surface tension of water, and then capturing those colours with a sheet of parchment to create unique, often unexpected patterns. I began to realise that this culture was well versed in the value of decorative art... and the abstract. Late that afternoon as I wandered back to the hotel I saw Dubai’s skyline awash with golden light while below me a gentle breeze on the waters of the Dubai Marina transformed the view into a mesmerising kaleidoscope of random patterns. I hired a small boat with a skipper and got on with my own process of capturing colours from water. I offer this new collection and the artworks, reflections created by nature on the surface of the water in Dubai, as my interpretation and as an entree to the wonderful world of Middle Eastern decorative art.
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Reflections on the making of The Art of Navy
My new exhibition, the Art of Navy, running at the Australian National Maritime Museum from Oct 3 – 30 has allowed me to explore totally new concepts and outputs in my art practice. The full story behind the genesis of the exhibition is told in a new film, the Making of the Art of Navy that is showing as part of the exhibition and can be viewed here. The usual output for my artwork is a limited edition print on a fine art paper, known as Giclee paper, a form of paper that had its manufacturing roots in the 15th century. The porous quality of the paper when used with water based ink jet printers enables the final artwork to look very much like a watercolour painting. Given my practice is based around light and water, this process of printing best represented the creative intention behind the making of my art to date. The Art of Navy commission gave me the opportunity to create very large scale works. This came with its own constraints. The Giclee paper printing options are limited in width to 1.6 meters high and traditional picture framing methods on works of this size can be complicated. So what other print output options for six large scale 2.4metre x 1.6 metre artworks might support works of this size and how might that change my conceptual thinking behind the works . I began exploring the world of digital reproduction as fine art work. Options included using a heat transference process sublimating the image into metal. Again size constraints precluded that option. So the choice was based around the last option available – printing directly onto a large scale acrylic panel cut to size. This printing process involves four layers of colour being instantaneously applied to the panel. The first layer prints the full colour image directly onto the acrylic, the second layer is a coat of white printed over the full colour image to ensure light diffusion off the surface, the third layer is a repeat of the original colour image onto the coat of white and the fourth and final layer is another layer of white to ensure the full dynamic colour range in the artwork resolves. A light box with LEDs was specially designed and built to back light each artwork exposing its translucent qualities. Finally, black metal frames were constructed to hold the acrylic panels in the light boxes. In this way, the basis of the artwork became more than a still image on paper or canvas with a frame. It transformed into a contemporary sculptured artwork. Slowly but surely as I viewed the completed artworks several times the difference in the fabrication method – the acrylic pane, the digital printing, the light box and its lighting system - revealed a significant change in my perception of the work. Suddenly, the work was no longer a painterly impression. It was as close to the actual water with the reflection on it hanging on the gallery wall! This is a very exciting breakthrough for me. What if I could create a whole floor of these artworks on which viewers could walk and experience spatially the actual moment of capture of the artwork!
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An Industrial Art Commission - The Challenge for the Cartography of Flow - Red
One of the real joys of my work is co-creating with clients. Khalil Najjar is Managing Director and Owner of Optim Logistics, Australia’s largest film equipment and concert entertainment freight forwarder. A move into a new head office sparked Khalil’s creative juices that saw a full scale shipping container being converted into the main meeting room and boardroom. Khalil needed some art to complement his logo design based around the Japanese concept of “enso”, a circle that is hand-drawn in one or two uninhibited brushstrokes to express a moment when the mind is free to let the body create. A chance trip into the Intercontinental Hotel Gallery, Sydney resulted in Khalil spending time viewing my database of images before settling on the Cartography of Flow – Red as the image he felt best complemented his logo. “Now I challenge you, Ralph. Can you turn that artwork into 4.2 metre triptych?”. View the film to see the surprising result!!
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On Top of the World
Burnt Out 1 now greets members as they enter the Intercontinental Hotel Sydney's exclusive 32nd floor Executive Club Lounge - rated the No 1 Executive Club Lounge globally because of its unique position directly above the Opera House, almost on top of the iconic Sydney Harbour Bridge with panoramic views across to Sydney Heads and out to sea. 4 additional pieces of mine are to be added so the Intercontinental Sydney Executive Club Lounge will now feature my works exclusively. Honoured to have my artwork selected for such a prestigious location
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Milan Interior Design Publication Features Ralph Kerle's Art
An article back grounding and explaining my art practice has been featured in the July edition of G&G Magazine, a high end Milan interior design publication, media partners with the internationally renowned Decorex interior design events, the destinations where "interior design professionals discover the finest and most coveted luxury products from new, emerging and established talent." Click here to read the article.
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Unfinished Surface: Blue finds a wall in Paros, Greece
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="960"] Paros, Greece. [/caption] I am always delighted to hear from satisfied collectors. This time through Daniel Arnold a former Manly Australia resident who has now moved to the Greek Island of Paros. He sent this shot from the balcony of his new villa. Before he left Australia he bought an edition of Unfinished Surface: Blue to remind him of his life in Australia. Now the piece sits proudly staring out at this view from its position on a white wall in the villa. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="2500"] Unfinished Surface: Blue 1100 x 1000mm [/caption]
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