Skinny Hollow Dog (Entity Effigies Series)

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve recently started work on a new series of small semi/barely-figurative pieces that I’ve been constructing from organic found materials and utilising their inherent forms with the bare minimum of intervention on my part. 

'Skinny Hollow Dog Effigy' (3 views), 2025, artist Wayne Chisnall

I’m calling this series my Entity Effigies. Rather than being actual sculptures I’m considering them more as contemplation pieces, as inspiration for potential further works (drawings and paintings). Although, saying that, I think that once I have enough of them, as a cluster they will probably be able to hold their own artistically.

'Wide-Mouther Hollow Dog', oil on board, artist Wayne Chisnall

It was only after I’d finished this three-legged effigy that it occurred to me that it somewhat resembled a Hollow Dog, the name I gave to the series of characters that emerged during the ‘100 oil paintings in 12 months challenge’ I set myself a couple of years ago. During this self-imposed challenge I started almost every one of these small paintings/oil sketches by putting brush to board with little or no preconceived idea of what I was about to paint. And it was during these painting sessions that I noticed these hooded or wide-mouthed creatures materialise. It’s fascinating what the hand and mind can produce when you’re in the zone and not paying too much directed attention.

'Hollow Dog Warrior', oil on board, artist Wayne Chisnall

It reminds me of an exercise I used to do every night just as I went to bed. I would force myself to do 10 drawings before I was allowed to go to sleep. They would be very fast, scribbly sketches, especially if I was very tired, and I once I’d done them I wouldn’t look at any of them until some time had passed. But when I did go through them, days or weeks later, even though many of them wouldn’t be great, there would be some that jumped out at me. A few of these inspired future works, and even though they came from my own head, many of them I had no idea what they were about or meant. But as the late great David Lynch once said, “I don’t know why people expect art to make sense. They accept the fact that life doesn’t make sense”.

'Hollow Dog Howling', oil on board, artist Wayne Chisnall

Habonde (Entity Effigy Series)

I’ve always been fascinated with the strange and unusual forms that nature throws up. This is especially true when it comes to vines, roots and branches etc.; materials that I’ve collected for years and which I’ve often incorporated in my work. Similar to the way I created some of my earlier minimal intervention sculptures (basically, just found materials where I’ve done the bare minimum required to change them into something vaguely approaching art), I’ve started work on a new series of small semi/barely-figurative pieces that I’m calling my Entity Effigies. Rather than being actual sculptures I’m considering them more as contemplation pieces, as inspiration for potential further works (drawings and paintings).

‘Habonde’ (detail), from 'Entity' effigy series, 2025, artist - Wayne Chisnall

This one, I’ve named ‘Habonde’, after the Medieval European folklore figure Dame Habonde (derived from the earlier Roman goddess Abundantia), a beneficent fairy or benevolent spirit who brings good fortune to the homes she visits at night. The crown-like structure at the ‘head’ of the effigy, and it’s overall hedgerow aesthetic, brought to my mind the idea of a fairy queen, the obvious candidate being Queen Mab from Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’sDream’. Some believe that Shakespeare’s Mab was derivative of the folklore character of Dame Habonde and the reason I chose the name Habonde over Mab (‘Mab’ probably being a much cooler name for the piece) is that I preferred the Habonde stage in the evolution of this entity’s mythos. While the Roman Abundantia was a personification of the concept of abundance, she thrived more in her folkloric form in Roman Gaul and Medieval France as Dame Habonde or Domina Adundia (Latin for ‘Mistress Adundance’), where she was described as a ‘white-clad’ lady who, accompanied by other ‘night ladies’ or ‘dominae’, would enter people’s homes at night. Although seen as a figure of blessing and good fortune, the Christian Church (ever intolerant of earlier or native belief systems) took a dimmer view, associating such beliefs with witchcraft.

‘Habonde’ (detail), from 'Entity' effigy series, 2025, artist - Wayne Chisnall

But getting back to the actual physical effigy itself, the display mechanism that I came up for it is a stand made from a brass rod and a rock base. First I sanded the bottom of the rock to give it a flat even surface and then I drilled a hole into the top for the rod could slot into. I like how this worked with the effigy itself; the materials complimenting one another. I feel that the stand both grounds the piece whilst allowed it hover almost ethereally.

‘Habonde’, from 'Entity' effigy series, 2025, artist - Wayne Chisnall

Interestingly, I only noticed whilst sanding and polishing the bottom of the rock that it was mostly made up of fossils. Maybe this is why I picked up the rock in the first place, from wherever I originally found it (maybe one of the local old quarries or possibly from a trip to the beach). Until now, it had just been knocking around my workshop amongst all the boxes of interesting finds.

National Mesmeric (Occult TV – after Test Card F)

Started (and almost completed) in 2018, ‘National Mesmeric’ had until now sat in my studio, largely ignored. Shortly after starting the piece, I began to experiment with a more fluid approach to oil painting and it then became my intention to eventually revisit ‘National Mesmeric’ and drastically rework it. But after recent re-examination of it, I’ve come to appreciate it as an exemplar of the body of work that I was producing at the time and thus went back to my original idea for the finishing touches needed to realise it.

‘National Mesmeric’, 2018-2025, 1.5 m x 1.2 m, oil painting, inspired by BBC’s Test Card F’ 

One of the most potent and strangely hypnotic symbols from the days of analogue TV in the UK has to be the BBC’s ‘Test Card F’ that was used from 1967 until the late 90s. As well as being a colour calibration tool, the test card was also used as a visual place holder, back in the days when there were large chunks of daytime in which no programs were scheduled, and no programs aired during the night.

Wayne Chisnall, artist in studio in 2018

As I’m sure is the case with many millions of other British viewers, I remember a childhood in which I spent what felt like hours at a time, staring at the static image of the test card, waiting for a favourite TV program to start. And it’s this idea of a collective mesmerisation that inspired me to create this painting. I thought about all the separate minds viewing the same uncanny image at the same exact time; something that was only possible in the pre-digital, pre-watch-on-demand days of analogue TV. I wondered what strange and dark influence this image had on a nation, collectively waiting impatiently. And I wondered if, like me, others saw things in the test card that weren’t really there. My version of the test card is grossly exaggerated, but as a child I did see the toy clown’s body as a skull-like green mask. 

'National Mesmeric' (detail)

It was only after posting a work-in-progress photo of National Mesmeric online that I received feedback from others who also saw the skull. I’ve since heard other people’s experiences and family stories relating to Test Card F.  One such story is of a friend’s father who used to tell him and his brothers, when they were little, that the girl in image would occasionally blink. Every now and then the dad would point at the TV and shout ‘there, you just missed it’. Even today I think the test card holds a strange power over people of a certain generation.