SECRET MUSE #6

NAME: Lucy Mayes

MUSE #6

Name: Lucy Mayes

Profession: Pigment maker, artist, educator and sailor

Location: Portsmouth (when not on the high seas)

Lucy Mayes is a UK-based artist and pigment maker whose work revolves around creating pigments under her brand London Pigment, developing her painting practice, and leading pigment-making courses.

I spoke with Lucy about our long relationship with colour—from transforming raw materials like lapis lazuli and malachite into fine pigments, to the ultramarine used by Diego Velázquez and Yves Klein Blue, and the artistic, psychological, cultural and economic significance of colour.

We discussed how she extracts pigments from waste, how different hues shape perception and meaning, and why brown is an underrated colour (and her favourite). How contemporary artists are reconsidering natural pigments and, of course, why she was drawn to her Ferian Malachite Guardian Signet Ring.


LB Making pigments is such an unusual profession. How did you first become interested in making your own colours? 

LM I would first say that it is my vocation! That might sound a little strange, but I feel strongly that through my teaching of heritage pigment-making processes, I can help creatives reorient their relationship to colour. This usually occurs when students begin to see the potential in the mundane- such as a nodule of red brick, a chip of blue roofing slate, or even a clump of stinging nettles. They realise that many materials sourced from waste streams are ripe for colour use, and that foraging for them fosters an intimate relationship with our more-than-human kin.

I digress though! I studied Fine Art at the University of Oxford, followed by an MFA in Painting at the Royal College of Art. I first made my own paint from scratch during my Foundation at Camberwell College of Arts and later during my BFA at the Ruskin School of Art. However, it wasn’t until I worked for the esteemed pigment retailers L. Cornelissen & Son that I had the chance to develop my knowledge of pigments in a truly in-depth way. I unofficially apprenticed under a pigment maker named Keith Edwards, who helped me understand key processes such as creating pigments from clay and precious minerals like malachite and lapis lazuli, extracting pigments from plant dyes, and synthesising colours such as the historical blue pigment Verditer.

I am also on the board of the non-profit Pigments Revealed International, which has an incredible multidisciplinary team eager to share their knowledge with the wider pigment community and beyond. 

LB Everyone experiences a visceral response to colour, but the interpretation of colour varies so much between cultures and individuals. The art critic John Berger documented his exchange of colours in letters with his friend John Christie, musing on the significance of colours in 'I Send You This Cadmium Red', which explores the personal meaning of colour and its symbolism. Is this cultural and emotional connection with colour something that attracts you to making pigments?

LM For me I see pigments as a lens in which to experience the world. They guide everything I do is guided by colour. I choose places to visit and travel to based on what I can learn about their connection to local, vernacular colour. I am interested in the physical materiality of colour- how it is made from both naturally occurring and laboratory-grade materials. Equally, I am fascinated by the human endeavour of pigment creation throughout history, and how our desire for the beauty of colourants has shaped human culture and development.

LM Within the field of pigment making, I am keen to learn from other makers and to understand how they have cultivated an intuition for their craft through sensory engagement. For example, when grinding a particularly pure piece of lapis lazuli, it emits a strong smell of rotten eggs- a sign of high sulphur content, which in turn indicates a high concentration of lazurite, the blue-giving mineral present. The stronger the aroma the more likely the end result will be a particularly intense blue. 

LB The Lüscher Colour Test, devised by a German psychologist, measures a person's psychophysical state based on their colour preferences. Does this psychological dimension of colour inform the colours you work with?

LM I am intrigued by people’s colour preferences and how these change over time or develop from a young age. Of course, there are numerous reasons one might be drawn to a particular hue- cultural influence for instance, often shapes our affinity for certain palettes. But I particularly enjoy asking people: What colours make you feel at home?

For me, home exists within the earth pigment spectrum-deep oranges, browns, yellows, and reds, sometimes softened by muted purples and earthy greens.

Now that I am fairly well-versed in which pigments are toxic or have cumulative health effects, I’ve come to associate certain colours in my collection with what I call “danger colours.” An example of this is emerald green, which contains arsenic, and chrome orange, which contains the equally poisonous chromium. As a result, when I encounter colours in the natural or urban environment that share a similar hue or saturation, they often evoke a strong negative psychological response.

LB  Can you tell us a bit about living on your boat? Is part of working with pigments about trying to capture the sensations of the sea and landscapes you explore?

LM I live on a nine-metre vintage wooden racing yacht built in 1978 in the U.K. It belongs to a class of retro racing boats known as “half tonners.” It’s a small space, so I own very few clothes or personal possessions- but if you were to see my studio, you’d notice I more than make up for it in pigment jars and ephemera!

I use the boat to reach places that are otherwise difficult to access by land- for example, a deposit of green earth clay on the Isle of Wight, from which I occasionally collect small amounts. The site is slowly eroding into the sea. The journey there carries a sense of anticipation and adventure, which imbues the collected raw clays with a completely different set of associations than if I had gathered them under more ordinary circumstances. I’m always careful to collect only small amounts from common or public spaces and never source materials from overseas for commercial colour making.

I also think often about how water is a remarkable tool for the pigment maker, especially in refining and distilling hues from raw samples. I use it to wash away impurities and to separate particles of different sizes or weights- a process that relies on the varying settling times of individual minerals.

LB The pigments you make are all ecologically produced – can you explain how you transform plant materials, minerals and even waste products into pigments?

LM Dyes are extracted from plants using water, heat, and fermentation. These are then filtered to create a dye liquor, or decoction. I then use alum and potash to form a new pigment in situ within the solution. These two materials bind with the dye, creating a completely new chemical composition, and the pigment gradually settles in the liquid. The water is then driven off, leaving the pigment behind. It is further washed with clean water and left to dry and ready to use!

Rocks, minerals, and waste materials of mineral origin-such as common yellow stock brick-can be treated in a similar way. They are first reduced to fine powders and then washed with weak acids to purify them. The material can then be sieved to obtain specific particle sizes, or further processed through a method known as levigation, which uses the relative density of the particles to separate individual mineral groups.

Making synthetic pigments from pure-grade chemicals, devoid of impurities, forms another group of colours in my practice. I purchase these chemicals from ethical suppliers and, using my kiln and other heat sources, I combine the materials-wet or dry as needed- to form pigments. I calcine, or heat, pure grades of iron oxide to produce a range of colours, and have also created synthetic ultramarines in many different shades. Most synthetic colours require highly controlled conditions and often involve toxic raw materials, so the range of pigments I produce in this group is quite limited.

LB We tend to think of early pigments being used in cave paintings, but there's evidence of red ochre being applied in burial processes in the British Isles, as discovered in Paviland Cave in Wales. I believe you've visited the cave – what was that like, seeing colours last seen 33,000 years ago?

LM I visited the cave with Lydia Pyne many years ago while she was writing her book on ochre pigments. The cave is situated on the Gower Peninsula, about fifty metres above the sea, cut into the side of the cliff. Visiting it was a deeply affecting experience for me. We collected red ochre from a nearby seam of clay and brought it to the cave as an offering. No pigment remains in the cave now, as the ochre once found there was used to stain the bones of an individual who lived around 33,000 years ago-remains that are now housed in the Natural History Museum in Oxford.

Gazing out to sea from within the cave, time seemed to stand still. I felt the infinity of time flow through me-it was a truly magical experience. The resulting red ochre I collected from that trip, stored quietly in empty limpet and crab shells, is very special to me.

LB We take wearing whatever colour we like for granted, but it wasn't always so. In medieval times, laws dictated which colours social classes could wear, with violations of sumptuary laws – particularly wearing colours reserved for royalty and the noble classes – resulting in harsh punishment. Do you think there are still echoes of colour snobbery, as reflected in the current 'good taste' for neutral clothing? How does working with colour affect your choice of clothing colours?

LM I buy most of my clothes second-hand, and I’m partial to two extremes: either wearing all black or full colour! I think this is partly due to convenience — black — but I also love wearing joyful shades of red, pink, or blue, as they cheer me up. If I had the time and alot of money, I would create an entirely new wardrobe made from organic natural fibres-wool, linen, and cotton- and I would hand-dye every piece. When the clothes faded, I would over-dye them to create truly unique garments… one day!

LB Malachite and lapis lazuli (ultramarine) are amongst humanity's earliest pigments, being used since predynastic times and highly prized by medieval and Renaissance artists from Titian and Vermeer through to Picasso, Kandinsky and Yves Klein, who even patented his own IKB blue. You supply the specialist artist materials shop L. Cornelissen & Son in London, which must be one of the most prestigious art suppliers. Is there a return to natural pigments amongst contemporary artists?

LM There is a growing trend among creatives to seek colours that align with their authentic selves-colours that are ethical, sustainable, and local. Many of the workshops I run help artists reconsider their material use in the studio, encouraging small, gradual changes over time-for example, finding a more sustainable alternative when a particular colour runs out. Many artists still make their own paint and ink from scratch, so shops like Cornelissen & Son remain some of the last places where one can purchase raw materials and receive expert guidance through the process. People are increasingly rethinking the materials they put in and on their bodies, and now we are also reconsidering the materials used to paint our walls or create the works of art displayed on them.

LB Do you have a favourite colour, and if so, why? 

LM My favourite colour is brown. Brown is an underrated colour, and we have so few words in the English language to describe it, yet I love how a brown can carry a purple, blue, or green tinge! There are so many colours within brown, and it can vary so widely. Having worked with colour for so long, I can almost “see” the colours that make it-they seem to split into different tones. Brown, for me, is a colour that does this more than most.

LB Lastly, what drew you to your Malachite Guardian Signet Ring?

LM I make malachite pigment in several grades from raw, low grade mineral samples. By crushing, washing, sieving and using weak acids to clean and purify the samples I can distill several shades of green from the rock. I like to use low-grade specimens as the impurities of iron oxide and calcium bearing minerals give the colours different nuances. I also make green verditer pigment, a pigment recipe invented in Britain in the late 1700s that synthetically reproduces malachite as an incredibly pure material- pure copper carbonate. To make this colour, which can range from deep green to soft minty turquoise you combine copper solutions with chalk. The chalk attaches to the copper to create an insoluble, permanent artist's grade pigment. I am fascinated by the interconnectedness of materials, utilising local chalk in my recipes alongside purchased laboratory grade ingredients. 

The choice of materials is not only a technical choice but a philosophical choice too, helping to unearth hidden stories about the history of colour, its manufacture and its connection to the development of culture & craft practices. 

Explore Gemstone Rings

Thank you for being Ferian Muse #6

Join Lucy in her Southsea studio, Portsmouth, for a 2 hour hands-on colour alchemy workshop exploring the art of natural colour making: Book here

Buy a signed edition of Lucy's beautiful book The London Pigment Handbook: Book here

Online course: Book here

Experiment with Lucy's Wastestream Watercolour pigments: Buy here

Follow Lucy's adventures in colour on instagram @londonpigment

Combine a trip to the British museum with a visit to Cornelisson at:

105 Great Russell Street, London WC1B 3RY

Explore art supplies online at L Cornelissen and Sons:here

Portrait and pigment photographs by kind permission of David and Charles publishing.