I first encountered Mirecki’s work through a professional happenstance – as the newly appointed Curator of Social History and Art at Chelmsford Museum I was exploring the art in the collections and I was struck by two watercolours - Dooley’s Field and The Parapet, Chappel Viaduct 1998 both by Władysław Mirecki. My attention was drawn by the subject matter as, although I work in Chelmsford, I live on the Essex/Suffolk border and the viaduct is a prominent local landmark. I was then struck by the feel of the work, attention to detail and his honest representation of his subject matter. Władysław (or Waj to those who know him) really captures the essence and sense of place in his work - both things that I think are essential in landscape painting.

In 2013 the museum put on a major temporary exhibition of Mirecki’s work, titled Light and Dark, it juxtaposed Mirecki’s work showing light and life with more dark and gothic themes by Paul Rumsey. The exhibition enabled me to get to know Waj, see more of his work, and get an insight into the meaning and thought processes that produced the work.

It is clear that the East Anglian landscape greatly inspires him and it is present in his new exhibition in all its forms, beaches at sunset with the setting sun reflected on the foreshore (‘Lone Walker, Sunset’), desolate estuaries, woodland glades, lakes and verdant fields.

He works exclusively in water colour with a detailed technique. Self-taught, Waj makes his own rules, which is perhaps why there is so much vitality and honesty in his work. He enjoys the uneasy alliance between the natural and the man-made: a tarmac road junction turned into a beautiful composition with the sun dappled grey on tarmac in the foreground against the lush blues, greens and purples behind (‘Loveneys’). Only Waj would put in the patched tarmac: perfectly capturing present day reality for future generations as it is, because its there, but still making it beautiful. There is often obvious humour, for example, a gas holder to counterpoint the picture postcard perfection of Lavenham (‘Gas Holder, Lavenham’) or a well executed stairwell and landing representing the historic timber framed Little Hall (‘Stairwell, Little Hall Museum, Lavenham’). Indeed, the insistence of the banal and the modern as unavoidable intruders into our appreciation of nature is a hallmark of his work.

Waj deliberately uses bold elements in some of his paintings which sometimes appear not to conform to conventional principles of composition. The result initially feels uneasy to the viewer. Then you stop and look. For example, he will put a barbed wire fence in ‘Fishing Lake’ while in ‘Hogweed and willow herb’, the hogweed stands alone, forlorn, before the lush vegetation and colour of the willow herb. The hogweed initially looks out of place, not allowing the work to have that ‘picture perfect’ sense. He obviously wants to draw the viewer in by arresting their attention to what at first glance is a beautifully rendered image that somehow doesn’t seem quite right – then as the viewer stops he is drawn in to the detail, the composition, the subject matter – which reveals itself almost layer by layer. It is almost impossible to walk past one of his paintings – the viewer is compelled to stop and see what he has done and only then will the picture begin to reveal its secrets and make sense until finally, on the hogweed, you observe the small hover fly on the flower.

In water colours like ‘Link Span, Harwich Pier’ and ‘Walberswick Pier and moon’ one appreciates the subtlety of Mirecki's work; and one can almost smell and feel the sea through gently breaking waves or gentle rivulets of water on the mud flats at low tide. The seascapes, estuarine mud flats and grasses take on the warm light hues of a summer sunset or moonlit night. Mirecki captures their atmospheres beautifully, imbuing such works with a sense of peace, and inviting reflection.

Waj’s use of light is masterful. From a bright spring morning, to dusk on an estuary, you can feel the day he has painted – you know exactly the temperature, the feel of the wind, the colour of the sky. You don’t just look at his paintings – you experience them.

There are several views capturing the beauty and tranquility of Chalkney Woods, particularly known for its wood anemones, local to the Mireckis and (along with the viaduct) a common theme for inspiration in his work.  In ‘Skirting the Puddle’ we see Edna (Waj’s wife and co-proprietor of the Chappel Galleries) on a bleak winter’s afternoon walking down a muddy woodland track. Here one can almost imagine being there, the smell of mud and damp decaying leaves….thinking of being home by a warm fire. The reflections in the puddle show the artist’s skill of accurate portrayal, the reflections of trees and sky perfectly rendered on the mirror surface.

Of course, no exhibition would be complete without Mirecki's beloved viaduct rising from the earth; a masterly feat of engineering and design. Surrounded by trees, lush foliage and grasses the painting eloquently expresses nature's relationship with the manmade. When it works, as it does here, it really works.

This exhibition represents the sort of quality painting one might expect from Waj. More importantly it captures and celebrates our superb English (East Anglian) countryside. Enjoy!

Dr Mark Curteis January 2014
Curator of Social History and Art, Chelmsford Museum

Much of Mirecki’s potency of image derives from the juxtaposition of man-made architecture and natural growth: a typical subject might be the River Colne in Spate. The picture’s foreground is thronged with foliage expertly painted (though thankfully not with quite the mad hallucinatory extremism of the Pre-Raphaelites), the central episode features light reflected off moving water, while trees take us into the background and the Chappel Viaduct. The accuracy is not snapshot photographic, it is a skilled recreation of a specific place at a particular time of day and season. The painting is an interpretation of a familiar landscape, an investigation into its rhythms and structures, the underlying forms which give it presence and meaning. Mirecki departs from the literal truth when it is necessary for the painting to do so, carefully heightening or moderating it. The artist’s principal work lies in making decisions about what to include and what to disregard, where to place an emphasis and where to put a counter-balance. Mirecki’s artistic transformation of his subject is so subtle and sophisticated that sometimes it goes almost unnoticed.

The coast has become another favoured subject, usually East Anglian, such as the beguilingly austere View from Clacton Pier, with its skeletal forms of wind turbines fading into the cloud-bank on the horizon. Occasionally there is no vestige of man’s impact on the environment. It is eye-opening to see a straightforward study of sea, sky and land, as put forward with luminous yet understated brilliance in West Cliff, Whitby II. Other landscapes include a vineyard in the south of France, and a couple of views of Salisbury. Mirecki strays in Constable’s footsteps over the water-meadows, places the cathedral’s spire at the top of his painting, but brings the focus in low, to the reed-fringed drainage system. This oddly serene image wakens echoes of John Nash’s painting The Moat, Grange Farm, Kimble (1922) in the Tate. Mirecki’s other Salisbury subject is a witty urban scene: the elegant spire caught this time between two red-brick council houses, and put in its place by satellite dish and double yellow lines.

As Clive James wrote recently: ‘The only way to hide the tensions of a set form is to perfect it.’ He was referring to poetry, but the same can be said of painting: only when the conflicting tensions of a landscape are resolved, can a harmonious painting result. In these beautiful new paintings, Władysław Mirecki shows us how a vision of landscape may be perfected.

Andrew Lambirth 2015