Palette Knife Paintings - A journey through colour and texture
- Mark Haywood
- 5 days ago
- 3 min read
I can remember very well the first time I came across an original palette knife painting. I was a young, enthusiastic oil painter at the time, but the memory is still fresh in my mind. I was browsing the work of fellow artists at the Oxford art fair where I was exhibiting my work. It wasn’t like viewing any other kind of artwork. The painting looked almost alive. It had an energy and life that I had rarely seen in other artists work, and I was instantly mesmerised. Although the subject itself wasn’t to my interest at the time, it didn’t seem to matter. I was unable to move, standing in the artists booth in a trans like state, transfixed at the small floral painting. The colour, vibrancy and energy of the oil painting simply commanded my attention.
As much as I admired the painting, I had no such courage to pick up a palette knife and discover what I could achieve. I was well aware of the challenges associated with palette knife painting, and the tools well documented reputation of being an ‘advanced artists’ utensil and giving no margin for error. Instead, I continued to create art the way I had previously done, and stayed firmly grounded within my safety net of using conventional brushes.
Somewhere along the line, however, there must have been a minor disturbance from within. Several years after the experience of viewing my first original pallet knife painting, I purchased a set of three small palette knives. I don’t remember having the intent to use them at the time, and recall it being a ‘just in case’ purchase, but, sure enough, they occupied a small space within my studio. Unfortunately, that space was in fact, the dark, lifeless canopy of a desk drawer, For at least another 4 years, there they would remain, hidden in the dark, neglected and unused.
As both a painter and sculptor, I became increasingly busy with my figurative sculptures, eventually transitioning to the digital form so my miniature figures could be reproduced in a range of sizes. I became so busy with my sculpting profession that I had no choice but to take a much needed break from oil painting and commissions. For over two years, I didn’t pick up a brush. As the months rolled by, I spent an ever growing number of hours in front of the computer, designing figures digitally. But, as the months ticked by, I began to feel the lure of the canvas. Eventually, the call became so strong, I knew my return to oil painting was imminent. Oil has always been my first love medium, and so it resonates that I wouldn’t be able to live without it for too long. Only this time, there would be a very big difference. This time, there would be no brushes. It was time for the palette knives to finally emerge from hiding…

Prior to returning to the familiar process of spending untold hours at the easel, I had already decided in my subconscious to abandon any form of ‘safe’ painting. Which is surely a blessing, because palette knife painting doesn’t care for safety. It doesn’t care for over consideration, and it certainly doesn’t care, or allow, for error. The fundamental role of the palette knife is to carry out one purpose - express. Expression is the very essence of the pallet knife. and it does so in the most efficient manner possible.
I didn’t pick a palette knife until my late forties. Do I regret this decision? Yes and no. Yes, in terms of the years I delayed falling in love with this most passionate of painting tools, but also no. Everything has a time in life. Palette knife painting isn’t for inexperienced artists. If you don’t understand colour harmony, or you delay in making compositional decisions, it will punish you. If you want to blend everything in sight, the pallet knife will wreak havoc on your canvas. What the tool is designed for is to capture colour, energy and fluidity and bring a life of its own to the canvas. Alas, my days of brush painting were over – forever.
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