Sam Toft17th – 30th September 2005

Goldfish in their bowls

May be a hurricane brewing, Doris6.5 x 9 ins

Mr Mustard shows Doris his no.1 flying position6.5 x 9 ins

Goldfish in their bowls

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Through pastures green with Audrey & Doris6.5 x 9 ins

I can see for miles6.5 x 9 ins

For this solo exhibition, her third with John Noott Galleries, Sam has produced a collection of work inspired not only by the South Downscountryside around her home, but also work from her trip to Southern Africa and, more recently, Venice. Venice is one of those incredible placeswhich has captivated artists through the centuries – how wonderful to see Sam’s fresh and unique interpretation of this fabulous city – and howlucky for us that Mr Mustard and Doris are becoming so well travelled! We do hope you will join us (and Sam) for the opening of this exhibition onSaturday 17th September at our new galleries in Broadway.

Included in this exhibition are thirty five new paintings, in mixed media, price range £500 – £3,500. Those illustrated may be purchased on receiptof catalogue – the remainder will not be available until 11 am on Saturday 17th September.

Sam Toft was born in Staffordshire in 1964.She trained at City of Liverpool CommunityCollege and works from a studio in achocolate-smelling mews by the sea. Her workis published by The Art Group and she haspictures in IKEA with cards, posters and printssold all over the world nearly. She lives withher handsome prince, Moses Dog, and sharesher garden with Sweetpea Rabbit who has

kindly eaten all the flowers and leaves the slugs and snails to do the rest. Ifshe ever wins an Oscar, she would like to thank her lovely Mum who hasseen her through some scrapes and lean times, and Ian Hering who was anArt Teacher in Liverpool and helped her realise that perhaps she could giveit a go with her pictures. “It’s a funny old thing being an artist in this big andsometimes scary world: I don’t mend people’s bones, feed the starvingmillions or take the rubbish away, but if you look at my work and it makesyou smile, then I think I would say that I’ve done a pretty good job.”

The weird and wonderful world of topiary8 x 12 ins

Samantha Toft

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Goldfish in their bowls

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Not quite over the hill6.5 x 9 ins

Over the hill with too many ducks *6.5 x 9 ins

Looking at the woolly jumpers *6.5 x 9 ins

The famous little picnic tree6.5 x 9 ins

Samantha Toft

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The GoldfishErnest Hemmingway Mustard, the professional tuneless hummer and parttime hurricane predictor, is having a rather interesting, and it has to be said,quite an important time of it. After the Big Brave Trip to Africa last year, therewas a romantic few days in Venice with Doris Dog in the Spring. It was allwinding passages with bridges, watery bits and squares with old buildings andit ended up with them both getting very lost. But what they like best of all isto head out on their bike with the whole family or to take a trip on thenumber 25 bus and get off at Stanmer Park for a big walk up to the SouthDowns. Even when it’s cold they go, their days sketched out by Sam Toft:friend and Official Picture Maker. It seems she goes everywhere with them(even when not invited) so that Violet, the dear lady wife, sometimesgrumbles, “Eee, it’s like we were goldfish in our bowls, Ernest.” But Ernest

Hemmingway Mustard takes it all in his stride and Doris Dog (who wouldrather not stride at all) huffs and she puffs and then looks forward to a bit ofa rest and an early supper. I’m thinking that perhaps you may be interestedto know a bit more about our dear friends the Mustards now that they haveachieved such minor celebrity greatness. So are you all sitting comfortably?Then I’ll begin...

The Story Of How They MetErnest first noticed Violet at a teashop along Parliament Street in Harrogate.It was one of his wild weekend adventures and he’d set off early that morningon a coach from Bradford without even a packed lunch. So it wasn’t so muchViolet that caught his eye, but the very size of her huge custard slice with itsmillions of layers of flaky pastry and thick white icing.

Almost over the hill (not quite) *12 x 16 ins

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Goldfish in their bowls

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It’s a swizzle in the sky6.5 x 9 ins

Fantasy beach hut buying with Audrey & Rover 6.5 x 9 ins

Heading for the chink in the clouds9 x 6.5 ins

Is it nearly picnic time yet?9 x 6.5 ins

Samantha Toft

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As it happened, their mothers knew each other : in fact Irene Mustard and herfriend Doris Jane Hemmingway were like peas from the very same pod.

So cast your mind back, if you can, to 22nd May 1962 – before there was anysuch thing as cappuccinos and Doris Dog was not even a twinkle in a naughtyJack Russell’s eye. The occasion is a rainy day picnic in Eastbourne, and this isthe day upon which the mothers have agreed to engineer a Very ImportantMeeting.

Young Ernest sits there all pinkish-faced and smiling with a faint whiff of theCoal Tar and Dettol. He sees the impressive shape of a bulky young woman,all mackintoshed up, with a small square hat clamped down hard over herauburn curls. That’ll do me, thinks Ernest, as his heart goes all of a flutter andhis face turns an impressive shade of crimson magenta. Violet takes a sidewaysglance and sees a thin man with a kind face, who kept himself good and clean.

He’ll be no bother, she decides as she nods quietly to herself and presses herthin lips into a tight smile.

The mothers eye each other with stern satisfied faces. The slightest hint of awink is exchanged and both know they will meet later to firm up the weddingplans. It is decided that the surname should go double barrelled but without ahyphen. Neither relish the sound of Violet Mustard (plain daft they bothagree), and feel that Ernest will gain a little panache with the extraHemmingway.

But for now, on that rainy day in Eastbourne, Ernest and Violet are sharingtheir first umbrella, and what could be more romantic than that? There theysit looking out to sea with only a picnic basket between them for modesty.“Go on Violet”, says Ernest shyly, “you have the last éclair”.

Snowy boats and seagulls7 x 14.5 ins

Goldfish in their bowls

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Looking out at San Giorgio8 x 6.5 ins

Whose dog are you?9 x 6.5 ins

Off the beaten track they go6.5 x 9 ins

Doris makes her own fun6.5 x 9 ins

Samantha Toft

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The Story of Doris and How She Became a Mustard“Did you hear that, dear?” Mr Mustard calls to his wife who is in the backkitchen making the cocoa.

“Marshmallows is it?” comes the reply, and then, “...deaf as a post,” shemutters under her breath, “...he’ll get marshmallows and like them.”

Mr Mustard hears it again. “There it is again, love,” he says as Violet shufflesdown the passage with two china mugs.

“Well they’re in there now like it or lump it,” she answers, “and I’m notmaking you another.”

They sip at their cocoa, marshmallows and all, Violet sitting with a big fatcushion of a cat on her lap, and Ernest cocking his head from side to side like

an old pigeon looking for breadcrumbs. Then all of a sudden, Mr Mustardjumps up, crosses the room and snaps the curtains open, eyes like slits andwith quite a fierce look on his face.

“Here, what are you playing at?”, he shouts blindly into the blackness asbravely as he can, and as his eyes adjust to the gloom, he picks out a smallgreyish shape quivering at the foot of the stairs that lead from the street downto their not-so-damp basement flat.

He carries the fragile body into the warm and discovers it is a small terrier,weak yet snarling between the whimpers, quietened only by the sight of MrMustard’s marshmallow cocoa which has fallen to the floor amid the fray.

The little white dog had been roaming the wild and dangerous streets of theBrighton Hove border. Maybe it was the box of discarded cherry brandy

Doris at the carnival9 x 16 ins

Goldfish in their bowls

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A day out with the family16 x 7.5 ins

Doris and the little white bird6 x 6 ins

A study in Doris6 x 6 ins

Samantha Toft

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chocolates ( that she’d eaten with all the wrappers on ) that made her stumbledown those cold stone steps, so that she couldn’t get up again. She had nowbeen fattened to within an inch of her life by the indulgent Violet, andrenamed Doris (I ask you). So although she likes the warm fire, the jam tarts,the battenburg (and has developed a taste for her very own secret recipe ofcustard with slices of Spam), she keeps within her a little fire of resentment.The lean mean terrier had been stolen away from her life on the edge of thewild side, and now had a God given right to remain thoroughly grumpy.

But on that night 12 years ago, all she can remember after she’d fallen downthe stairs was a warm room with a funny smell, and a large woman in alavender quilted housecoat who laughed and clapped and called her Doris.She remembered eating something delicious and sticky from a broken cup onthe floor.

Ernest had been surprised at the uncharacteristic smile on his dear lady wife’sflushed fat face, and smiles as well.

“At last,” he thinks, “...at long last we’ve found someone who can appreciateyour ghastly marshmallow cocoa.”

And is there a book, I hear you ask?. Well not yet – a girl has to have time forlattes and holidays and walking the dog – but maybe one day.

Sam Toft

A secret tinkle6.5 x 9 ins

What red bird?9 x 6.5 ins

Front Cover: Mr Mustard goes shopping 32 x 45 ins

Gallery Opening Hours: Monday – Saturday 9.30am – 1pm and 2pm – 5pm

Sunday on special occasions or by appointment

Sam Toft17th – 30th September 2005

Goldfish in their bowls

Looking through the gap in the beach huts11 x 28 ins

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