Bandstand Full Moon Enchantment

Print description

This print captures two much-loved landmarks along the Brighton and Hove promenade: the Palace Pier and the Bandstand. The Brighton Bandstand, built in 1884, is known for its ornate Victorian ironwork and elegant circular form. Often called the “Birdcage,” it sits on the seafront overlooking the beach and is a favourite spot for weddings, music, and quiet moments by the sea. Brighton Palace Pier, which opened in 1899, is the city’s best-known seaside attraction. Stretching out over the water, it is filled with fairground rides, arcades, and food stalls, and remains a lively symbol of Brighton’s culture, fun, and coastal heritage.

Print details

Digital pigment print from original ink drawings. Printed on fine art paper using archival inks. Available in sizes A0,A1, A2, A3 or A4 as limited editions of 100. Each print is individually signed and numbered.

Brighton Bandstand

The extraordinary design with its lobular arches and fluted capitals with crossed natural leaves of the bandstand has been compared to the Alcazar in Seville or the Alhambra in Granada. Since I was born in Granada and lived in Seville, the vision of the Bandstand brings a home away from home.

Brighton’s ‘birdcage’ bandstand is one of the finest surviving Victorian bandstands. It was constructed in 1884 as part of a wider scheme of improvement for the town’s western seafront. The entire structure was designed by Brighton Council’s surveyor, Philip Lockwood, who was also responsible for many other iron structures on the town’s seafront, including several shelters and the Madeira terrace and lift on the eastern esplanade. All of these structures, including the bandstand, were manufactured by the Phoenix Foundry in nearby Lewes, and their name can be seen on almost all of Brighton’s ironwork, from the Palace Pier to the railings and lamps that line the seafront.

New print series: The Belt of Venus

The Belt of Venus. The Belt of Venus is a soft pink glow that appears just before sunrise or after sunset, hovering above the horizon opposite the sun. It’s caused by sunlight scattering through the atmosphere, often separated from the horizon by the darker band of Earth’s shadow. In winter, the colour can feel sharper and more vivid.

I’m often looking up—through windows at night, cycling along the seafront, or walking home past Brunswick Square in Hove. Those skies, along with childhood evenings spent studying constellations with a torch and a sky map, have led to a new series of prints: