Ramsay Allan is a Scottish oil painter based in Angus, Scotland, whose work moves between surrealism, figurative realism, portraiture, landscape, and still life. Rather than confining himself to a single genre, Allan allows each idea to determine its own visual language.

His paintings explore dreams, memory, consciousness, spirituality, and the complexities of human experience. Realistically observed figures and objects are often placed within enigmatic or dreamlike settings, creating scenes that feel familiar and mysterious at the same time.

Born in 1962, Allan came to painting seriously later in life. After surgery greatly improved his eyesight, he began to believe that he could create paintings rather than simply admire them. His early work was guided largely by instinct, followed by an almost decade long break from painting. When he returned in 2024, at the age of sixty one, he came back with a renewed sense of purpose and a clearer understanding of the ideas he wanted to explore.

His influences range from Michelangelo, Picasso, and Dalí to Sargent, Cézanne, Matisse, and Van Gogh, while his interest in Art Deco, mid century design, and popular culture adds a contemporary character to his work.

In this conversation with Pice Magazine, Ramsay Allan speaks about returning to painting later in life, the role of instinct in his creative process, his fascination with spirituality and imagined realities, and why he believes that art can sometimes communicate something genuine before even the artist fully understands it.

Can you tell us about your journey as an artist? What inspired you to pursue art, and how has your style evolved over the years?

I came to painting seriously relatively late in life. I had always been drawn to art, but it was only in my late forties, after surgery greatly improved my eyesight, that I began to believe I might actually create paintings rather than simply admire them.

My earliest work was driven largely by instinct. I had relatively little technical knowledge, but I often had a very clear feeling for what I wanted a painting to become and enough faith to attempt it.

Those early paintings were followed by a break from painting that lasted almost a decade. When I returned in 2024, at the age of sixty one, I did so with a renewed sense of purpose and a much clearer understanding of the ideas I wanted to explore.

Since returning, my technical vocabulary has developed considerably, but I do not think the fundamental impulse has changed. I now have better tools with which to communicate something that was already present intuitively. The instinct came first; the technique gradually caught up with it.

My work has also become more deliberately concerned with dreams, consciousness, spirituality, and imagined realities. I work across surrealism, figurative realism, portraiture, landscape, and still life because I prefer to let each idea determine its own visual language rather than confining myself to one recognisable genre.

What themes or messages do you aim to convey through your artwork, and how do you go about expressing them visually?

If there is one underlying belief connecting much of my work, it is that our physical existence is not the entirety of who we are. I believe that the body dies but the spirit continues, and that we are, in a sense, spiritual beings having a human experience.

I do not want to communicate this as a literal message in every painting, or tell viewers what they should believe. I prefer to leave questions open.

My interest in dreams, consciousness, spirituality, time, and surrealism comes partly from a curiosity about what may exist beyond the reality we experience through our physical senses.

Visually, I often begin with people, objects, or environments and place them within situations that feel slightly ambiguous or dreamlike. I use symbolism, unusual juxtapositions, atmosphere, and light to suggest that something may be happening beyond the immediately visible.

Some works, such as Cup of Redemption, approach spirituality quite directly, while paintings including Reception, Transmission, and the Utopian Dreams series explore different realities and states of consciousness more obliquely.

Even in portraiture and landscape, I am interested in more than recording outward appearance. I want to capture a sense of presence, memory, or atmosphere, something felt but not always easily explained.

Ideally, the paintings encourage viewers to pause, wonder, and reach their own interpretations.

Can you walk us through your creative process? How do you start a new piece, and what techniques or materials do you prefer to use?

A painting usually begins with an idea, image, or question that captures my imagination and refuses to disappear. Sometimes it arrives almost fully formed; at other times, several unrelated references gradually connect and suggest a narrative.

I generally allow an idea to develop privately before speaking too much about it, because describing it prematurely can diminish it, or turn it into an expectation and restrict its freedom to change.

Once an idea feels strong enough, I gather visual references and experiment with composition, sometimes using photography and digital studies to test the relationships between figures, objects, light, and space.

These preparations are useful, but they are not rigid instructions. The painting itself usually introduces something unexpected.

I work predominantly in oils, usually on cotton canvas or linen, and I like to stretch my own canvases. Oil paint gives me the freedom to move between transparent and opaque passages, soften or sharpen edges, build subtle transitions, and make changes as the work develops.

I normally establish the main composition and tonal relationships first, then gradually refine colour, form, atmosphere, and detail.

Light is especially important to me. I am interested not only in how it describes physical space, but in how it can make a scene feel warm, intimate, unsettling, mysterious, or suspended somewhere outside ordinary time.

Ultimately, the technique and materials must serve the atmosphere and underlying idea of the painting.

What challenges have you faced in your artistic career, and how have you overcome them? Do you have any advice for aspiring artists?

One of my greatest challenges has been accepting that my artistic journey does not follow a conventional timeline.

I began painting seriously later in life and then spent almost a decade away from it. Returning required me to recover confidence, rebuild momentum, and confront the gap between what I could imagine and what I was technically able to achieve.

The only real way I have found to overcome that gap is to continue working. I study the painters I admire, examine my own mistakes honestly, learn more about materials and technique, and then take that knowledge into the next painting.

Every work presents a different problem, and there are often stages when a painting appears to be going wrong. Experience gradually teaches you not to panic during those difficult stages.

My advice to aspiring artists would be not to wait until they feel completely ready, because that moment may never arrive. Learn your craft and take technique seriously, but do not allow rules or comparisons with other artists to suppress your instincts.

An imperfect painting made with genuine conviction can teach you far more than an idea that remains permanently unattempted.

I would also say that artists should not compare their timelines. Life can interrupt creativity, sometimes for years, but that does not mean the journey is over.

Curiosity, perseverance, and belief in your own instincts matter enormously. Technique can catch up.

How do you see the role of art in society, and what impact do you hope your work has on your audience? Are there any particular responses or interactions with viewers that stand out to you?

I think art gives visible form to parts of human experience that cannot always be expressed adequately in words.

In a society increasingly dominated by speed, noise, and immediate distraction, art can create a rare space in which people pause, look carefully, and reconnect with their interior lives.

It can preserve memory, challenge assumptions, communicate beauty, and allow different realities or experiences to meet.

I do not believe every painting needs to deliver a fixed message or provide an answer. Sometimes its role is to open a question.

I hope my work encourages viewers to look beyond the surface of ordinary experience and consider the possibility that reality, consciousness, and existence may be more mysterious than they initially appear.

I particularly value it when viewers discover something personal in a painting that I did not consciously intend. At that point, the work is no longer simply an expression of my own thoughts; it becomes a meeting place between my imagination and theirs.

The response to Alfagate has been especially meaningful to me. It was created early in my development, when instinct greatly exceeded my technical knowledge, yet it continued to resonate with others and was eventually selected by Galeria Azur for exhibition in Berlin.

That experience reminded me that a painting can communicate something genuine before its creator fully understands how it has done so.

It reinforced my belief that instinct, sincerity, and imagination can sometimes reach people more directly than perfection.

And one final point is that the pursuit of perfection can be detrimental to creativity. After all, art is a creative process as well as a form of resistance.

Beyond the Surface

There is a quiet sense of mystery at the heart of Ramsay Allan's work. His paintings often begin with recognisable people, objects, and places, but something shifts within them. A familiar scene becomes ambiguous. A figure seems to exist somewhere between memory and reality. Light transforms an ordinary space into something almost otherworldly.

Perhaps this comes from Allan's belief that what we see is not necessarily the entirety of what exists.

His return to painting also carries its own sense of rediscovery. After beginning seriously later in life and spending almost a decade away from the practice, he returned not by trying to recreate his earlier work, but by following the instincts that had always been there.

Today, technique gives those instincts a stronger language.

But the questions remain open.

What exists beyond what we can see? What remains when memory changes? Where does consciousness lead us? And can a painting reveal something that words cannot?

For Allan, perhaps the answer does not need to be found.

Sometimes, it is enough for the painting to make us stop and wonder.