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A perfect Hull Saturday, when the heat of the day picks up, and the dew clears on the weeds on the embankment. Through the bridge, almost iconic to those who know the city’s little Bohemia, is a world of second-hand shops, cafés for Hipsters, and vibrant pubs. Scrambled eggs on toast and coffee with hints of chocolate, scones and butter with fresh plum jam. Here is a world of Victorian Avenues, their glory softly faded, and red brick terraces in perfect symmetry. All this beckons, under the bridge. The work is unusual, full of colour and light, and makes a perfect souvenir of Hull, a great gift.

Taxis in New York City, USA

I walked alone through Hull, the city on the edge of my childhood world. As years pass, the cityscape changes, ebbs, decays and regrows. Yet Hull always takes me back in time and place to the earliest years of my life. I love to explore, to reaffirm and to day dream. An earliest memory is of seeing derelict buildings that seemed to be returning to nature, with tree branches growing through roofs and windows. I saw this now empty pub, shuttered and probably lost, and decided to paint it. I used collage, thick paint and vivid colour, and I wanted to capture the bright light and vivid hues. The work is an ideal and unique souvenir of Hull, a perfect gift too.

A retro view of a deserted American subway car, as though one had travelled back in time to the 1970s. The carriage is empty, adding an evocative sensation of time travel. The light is slightly muted, reflecting on the greenish walls. Red seats await passengers, patches of shadow gathering at their feet. From outside, glimpses of a fleeting world deep beneath New York, a subterranean adventure. The work is both striking and mysterious, filled with realism and light, with mystery and shadow. A perfect gift, an ideal souvenir of the United States.

I love looking at old houses with closed doors. What is inside? What mysteries beckon? The shutters look rusty, the door long since locked and forgotten, entombing ghosts and cobwebs maybe. But for others, we can see an opportunity perhaps, a fresh start, a chance to renovate, the bring back to the light and comfort and the cosiness. The light is strong, bouncing off the white wall at the side. The stone is aged, full of character. Flowers and grass push through. The French house, the abandoned house.

Deptford is one of those places that has been on the periphery of my life, most of my life. I used to wander here from Surrey Docks in the 1980s, and it was as vibrant and diverse then as it is now. Edgy, alive, exciting. I loved the colours and textures of these shops, so I painted them. The canvas is 0.4 inches deep. It can therefore hang without the need for framing if wished.

It is winter in Hull and a silver sky hangs low over the city, a thickness in the coverage, as though snow might arrive at any moment. In the east of the city, near the docks and the ferry terminals, I wander alone, exploring, passing a row of semi-abandoned buildings, their walls blue, whimsical, striking, striking a hopeful note. One day, they will live again, I am sure, though for now they are in a deep slumber, plants growing from cracks, as nature seeks to reclaim her own. The work is unusual, urban, powerful and rich in colour and detail. It makes a great addition to any collection of Hull paintings.

This house encapsulated a slice of American paradise, the flavour of peaches and cream, peanut butter and jelly, domesticity and comfort. The sun is intense, the sky bright, the trees add their canopy of welcome shadow. I loved the colours, I wanted to capture the apple and lime green.

A refreshing walk in the sun takes me to the banks of the Hull. Factories, warehouses, the smell of brine. The view reminds me of years gone by, of other walks on other days. I feel hopeful here, by the river, looking out over the banks of deadly mud, its smoothness terrifying and fascinating too. The work shows the detail of the high buildings over the water, the metal bridge. It is a very familiar view of Hull. A great gift, a wonderful addition to any collection.

On the Atlantic coast, where waves crash on white sand and pine trees release their scent, there is a small village. Hibernating, asleep, its houses dusty and tatty, the village awakes in summer. Wooden shutters of peeling paint and creaky joints thrown open, rugs roughly shaken, brushes brandied with vigour. The walls are a beautiful yellow, like lemon cream, like custard, and framed with flowers of purple and pink and red. The work is a wonderful souvenir of France, a great gift, the perfect addition to a collection.

Summertime in France

The Red House, Tel Aviv

Art by Andrew Reid Wildman

Long fascinated by Montreal, I decided to paint this scene of summer, joy and colour, depicting the iconic and much loved rows of brightly painted quirky houses that are a symbol of the city; I first came here as a child, enthralled and at the beginning of life’s journey. I wanted to recreate the scene, with its intense light and vivid hues. The work is filled with detail, brightness and summer heat. A perfect gift, a wonderful addition to any collection.

In the Village, in New York, still jet lagged but too excited to care, I wander around and experience the Village. There is a scent of tar, of carbolic soap perhaps, and the temping smells of pizza dough in the oven. The buildings are brown, red, like a Vermont autumn, evocative of the 19th century. I admire a large yellow sign, cutting through the scene insistently. This work is rich in contrast, in shadow and light. It is a perfect addition to any collection of American-themed art and a great souvenir of New York.

A long walk on hot streets, the smell of tar and London plain. On a corner, a pub, a play of shadow and light, of colour, blue sky and purple stucco. The bricks reflect the light, golden almost. Inside we can seek shade, refreshment, in dark shadow and cosy nooks. The work is rich in light, in gentle yet vivid colour, a wonderful souvenir of London, a great gift.

Under a sky of light blue, the sky of a Parisian spring day, a corner building that imposes its shiplike prow. I imagine how it must be to live here, in a garret perhaps, with views over the city, climbing creaking wooden stairs, carrying a freshly baked baguette. Day dreams, and fantasy, longing and envy, as I explore the city. This work is rich in colour, in shadow and light. It makes a perfect addition to any collection, a great gift, the ideal souvenir of the City of Lights.

The sound of the Minster bells is loud, throbbing almost, as though the air were alive and the ground vibrating, echoing and awakening childhood memories of half a century earlier. I love it here, my birth town, the place where my life began, the crucible of my earliest consciousness. I went to school here, had my first birthday cakes and Christmases here. It was my small world, safe and English and nice. The work is rich in light and colour, yet simple too. A wonderful souvenir of Yorkshire.

Where the New Town starts to end and Stockbridge approaches, where the hills are steep and the shadows long, I noticed the beautiful play of light and colour on this golden building. It was a perfect design of symmetry, Georgian, solid, with fan windows over the doors, and built of large blocks of stone. It was a perfect Edinburgh morning, a day of Scottish summer promised and delivered, the air tinged with pine and heather and brine. I wanted to capture that light. The work is rich in colour and in detail, laced with a strong realism and solidity that make it a perfect souvenir of Scotland, an ideal gift.

I was too young to remember pubs, having left the city before adulthood. I rediscovered them in later years, with the city’s cobbled High Street being especially wonderful. Filled with dark, cosy atmosphere, candlelight and rafters, the lingering smell of stale ale soaked into wooden floors. A place of magical romance and escape. I often imagine Victorian Hull here, swirling mist and the ghostly sound of foghorns, rattling carriages and the clopping of hooves. This work depicts a favourite historical pub on the High Street and makes a perfect gift and a great addition to any collection.

A famous and iconic Hull pub, filled with atmosphere, a place of ghosts and friendship. A lovely work that exudes Hull. An ideal gift, a wonderful souvenir. I have painted this scene before, but the pub, and what it stands for and what it reminds me of, continue to draw me.

By Andrew Reid Wildman

On the corner, a pub, late summer sun creating patches of light in windows; below, as usual, the street is frenetic but above calmness reigns. The work is full of London flavours and atmosphere, rich in colour and in detail. A great gift, a wonderful souvenir of this corner of London.

Hull, Bar

Cheerful work of a French shop in shadow.

A French house in summer, a riot of flowers in contrast to an old set of shutters, the paint pealing, shedding the skin of decades in gentle decay. The street is deserted, an air of mystery reigns. A hint of spice carried on a gentle African wind, aromas of frying, of roasting coffee, of lavender and rosemary.

Americana, food, the mystery of red bricks and shadows. The city is vast and one can vanish and explore, seeing and unseen. Here, in a corner of an unknown neighbourhood, I pause to enjoy a diner, the crisp air filled with the scents of grilled meat and sweet baking, of fries and coffee. In my own American Dream I wander, a place of magic and limitless freedom, of cola and apple pie, a place where I can walk forever. At the corners are shadows, real and imagined, a hint of damp, an edge. The bricks, the colours and the sky fascinate me.

Art by Andrew Reid Wildman

Inside an empty restaurant, at the bewitching hour, once all have left, and before they arrive again. The tables are empty, patches of shadow, and the lights gleam like diamonds. It is old here, Edwardian, a place of cool green and white tiles, of dark brown wood, decades and generations of laughter and pleasure. There lingers the scent of food, of bachalian pleasures that permeate, of fresh bread and wine and of the sea. Soon it will be time for the energy and life to return. The work is a lovely souvenir of London, a great gift.

A small Highland house, perhaps also a state of mind. Tranquility, escape, beauty, solitude. Thick solid, stone walls, painted white, a wooden door, a chimney ready for the roaring fire of a cold night. But today is warm, the sky cloudless and the hills purple with fragrant heather. The woods beckon too, with their promise of shade, scented with pine and moss. This work is rich in colour and detail, a lovely souvenir of the Scottish Highlands and a great gift.

Remembering the days of heat, days of languid carefree freedom, of hot tiles on bare feet, of hot skin and the scent of coconut oil. I wander in the shade of the alleys, marvelling at the contrast of white walls, blue sky and the explosion of scented purple flowers. Small blue tables invite me, with their promise of gritty brown, overly sweet coffee, baskets of fragrant pitta, slices of cheese perhaps. It is quiet here, still, a wonderful sensation of being far away. This work is rich in detail, in heat and contrast, full of joy and warmth. A perfect antidote to the gloom of winter, a perfect addition to any collection.

A quiet morning stroll in Edinburgh, as glorious sun captures the tops of the Scottish Baronial buildings. The streets are mine, private, to share only with my shadow and footsteps. I smell freshly ground coffee, baking, the tang of the sea, and the scent of Edinburgh waking up. A distant rumble of traffic, the impatient hoot of a train from beyond the limit of the long since vanished walls. I wanted to capture the way the light and colours play with each other, the brightness of the sky, and the delicious coolth of the street.

It feels amazing, looking over the city where my earliest memories began. I wanted to capture the colour of the copper roofs and the almost turquoise colour of the iconic mosaic. I feel happy when I see this view. It is my city from the rooftops. This work is a perfect addition to any collection of urban art. It also makes a great souvenir of Yorkshire and a wonderful gift.

A house with blue shutters, the table ready for guests, baking outside in the sun. Cushions of blue, turquoise and white, overhanging branches laden with scented foliage, purple and pink flowers, perfumed and fresh, buzzing with bees in search of nectar. The walls are stone, a light hue reminiscent of the ancient world that once stood here, on the pine covered shores of the Mediterranean. We can hear the gentle lapping of the waves, calm and shimmering, hot sand on bare feet and a delicious freedom. This work makes a wonderful gift, a perfect addition to any collection.

An original work by Andrew Reid Wildman which now has a place at the Go Dutch Pancake House in Hull.

A mysterious passage of light and shadow, thick solid stone, a greenish tint, gold tarnished perhaps. A cloister for gowned advocates perhaps, a place for ghostly footsteps by night, perhaps the very souls of the hanged and the damned in the heart of Edinburgh’s old town, or perhaps a reminder of a time when Scotland’s capital was the Athens of the north. I was fascinated by the neat shapes of light. I wanted to capture the moment. A lovely souvenir of Scotland. A great gift.