Soon Comes Night: Serena Rowe

The cyclical nature of the seasons, and of our own emotional lives, are reflected in Serena Rowe’s latest body of work, shown in this new exhibition, which takes its title from the last line of Ivor Gurney’s 1917 poem, ‘The Songs I Had’.

In Serena’s luminous oil paintings, still life arrangements of flowers can be poignant and ambiguous, seen in the muted tones of At the End and Depleted, 2024, and Lovesick, 2025, or they can be joyful, mischievous and sensual, such as Fecundity and Summer Night, both 2025. Hidden indicators of sorrow can be found in tear-stained tissues, crumpled, and generously embraced as part of the still life set up, see for example, Wintering, 2025.

Flowers and plants wither, food left on a plate will decay, but through these natural processes, a metamorphosis is glimpsed and captured, before things move on. Life as we know it may have been ‘vanished clean’, but sorrow gives way to joy and to hope. Experiences can be ephemeral, and disappointments pass and ease. What follows is a renaissance and a rebirth.

There is a thoughtful nostalgia present in many of these works: the artist is drawn to painting dolls and childhood toys, and is inspired by miniature food, dolls houses and the anthropomorphic characters of Beatrix Potter’s moralistic tales. ‘The Tale of Two Bad Mice’, published just ten years before the outbreak of the First World War, is a particular source of inspiration. See Lost Donkey, 2023, Charlotte’s Doll, 2024, and Doll, 2025. Childhood concerns may shift and fade, but they transmute into something new and precious, their roots growing stronger, as we age and change.

Serena is a prolific reader, her studio a treasure trove of books, and quotes pinned to the wall. She takes inspiration from a wide range of source material and found imagery, including photographs, and works by Titian, Rodin and Artemisia Gentileschi, to name but a few. Painting directly onto wood, not canvas, these works are executed quickly, imbued with a palpable energy, be it joyful or melancholy, and are always reflective of a highly personal mood or emotional state. Sometimes works are scraped or rubbed down, and then repainted, leaving a ghostly memory of what was there before.

Presented here for us to ponder and process in the gallery space, these new paintings are in the words of Ivor Gurney, thoughtfully displayed ‘for other’s delight’.

Alice Chasey is a writer and editor, specialising in contemporary art. 

© Alice Chasey 2025