A Little Story Behind the Botanical Illustrator and the Sarah Gough Vintage Collection

Many of you have noticed the soft French titles on some of my botanical paintings — and I’ve had so many lovely questions about them. It’s a story rooted in deep admiration for one very special artist, and I’m so happy to share it with you.

🌸 My Nod and Thankyou to Redouté

The French names are there because these pieces draw inspiration from the work of Pierre‑Joseph Redouté — the kind, gifted man often called the “Raphael of Flowers.” He was more than just a painter — he was someone who truly saw flowers. He painted them with such care, such tenderness, and such gentle precision. His work has been loved by generations of artists, scientists, and nature lovers — and I count myself lucky to be one of them.

Years ago, I set out to paint a collection of roughly 20 botanical studies, working from his original drawings. I wanted to stay true to the shapes he captured, and keep the French names that were given to each flower — that felt like the right way to respect his work. But these aren’t just copies. I gave every piece my own treatment — my own way with colour, light, and brushwork — so they carry my voice as well as his. It felt like walking alongside him for a while, learning to see nature more clearly, and then telling the story in my own way.

Keeping the French titles is my quiet way of saying — thank you. Respecting the artist, his care, his patience, and the whole long line of botanists and artists who taught us to stop and look closely at the natural world. Their legacy lives on in every leaf I paint, every petal I study.

🍃 Why These Paintings Return Now

Bringing these works back as part of The Sarah Gough Vintage Collection feels a little like opening a much‑loved old book — pages soft at the edges, but the pictures still glowing. It’s giving them a new chapter — a chance to be seen again, to be cherished, and to find new homes. They sit alongside my newer and more informed work, forming a gentle bridge between past and present — between the master who showed us how to look, and the way we see nature today.