7 Do not Disturb

An image of leisure so pristine it becomes slightly unsettling. A lone figure reclines beside a swimming pool, her body elongated along the pale deck, eyes closed, face turned upward toward a sky that feels too clean to be entirely natural. The landscape behind her is composed with a deliberate clarity: clipped hedges, rounded trees, a calm suburban roofline. Everything is ordered, controlled, and quiet. The stillness is not simply peaceful; it is curated, as if the world has been arranged to remove all interruption. In this sense, the painting functions as both an invitation and a warning. It offers rest, but also suggests the fragility of that rest.

The composition is built on strong horizontal bands of water, concrete edge, hedge wall, and sky, each layer contributing to a sense of containment. The pool itself is an expanse of blue that shifts from bright turquoise to deep shadow, rendered with a smooth, almost graphic precision. Its surface is calm, yet textured enough to imply subtle movement, reinforcing the paradox of stillness that is never entirely still. The hedge behind the figure forms a kind of barrier, separating her from the house beyond, but also from the outside world. The trees are perfectly shaped, their symmetry suggesting that even nature has been disciplined into order.

Yet, it is the human figure who anchors the painting emotionally. Her posture is unguarded, her limbs relaxed, her presence both intimate and distant. She is alone, and that solitude feels deliberately chosen, almost protected. At the same time, the emptiness around her creates a subtle tension. The calm becomes heightened precisely because nothing else is happening. The viewer begins to sense that this is not a casual moment of sunbathing, but a scene deliberately staged to emphasise quiet, luxury, and distance from disruption.

What heightens this tension further is the strategic use of red, a colour that echoes powerfully across the earlier paintings in this series. Here, red appears most strikingly in the figure’s swimsuit and the small cushion beneath her head. Against the surrounding blues and greens, the red becomes a focal point, an emotional flare in an otherwise restrained palette. Like the red suitcase in Intentions, the red upholstery in Decision, or the red-wrapped detail in Special Guest, the colour signals something human: desire, vulnerability, and narrative significance. Red is never merely decorative in these works; it becomes a symbol of life moving beneath surfaces of composure.

In Do Not Disturb, the red swimsuit suggests vitality and sensual presence, but also exposure. It highlights the figure’s body as the most fragile element in an environment defined by control and permanence. The red cushion doubles this effect, small, seemingly incidental, yet deeply personal. It reads like an intimate possession brought into a space designed to appear flawless. These red touches disrupt the illusion of total calm, reminding us that even the most controlled environments cannot erase human need, longing, or risk.

Ultimately, Do Not Disturb captures a modern paradox: the longing for privacy in a world built to be seen. Through its clean composition and recurring red accents, the painting transforms tranquillity into quiet tension. The scene appears peaceful, yet the red reminds us that beneath every cultivated silence lies a human story alive, fragile, and always on the verge of disturbance.

Oil on fine portrait linen: 95 x 120 cm 37.4 x 47.2 in (sold)