Gallery walls

Three summits by the same photographer, all caught in the same narrow window — last light or first light still on the rock while the valley below has gone cold. Hung together they read as one ascent rather than three mountains.

The palette does the work: gold on the peaks, violet and pale blue everywhere else, repeated closely enough across all three that the wall holds even though each frame is its own photograph. Hang them in a row with a hand's width between frames.

Black-and-white photographs with an idea in them: a tower shot from the pavement until it becomes pure geometry, a filament replaced by a flame, two interlocked fists. Not a themed set — a set held together by contrast and a point of view.

Deliberately graphic and deliberately colourless, which is why it works where a landscape would not: a hallway, a stairwell, the wall behind a desk. A viewer passes close, and the detail earns its keep.

The same composition three times: a small painted building, a very large landscape, and nothing else competing. A red house in a field of flowers, two red roofs seen from above against green, a yellow house on stilts under weather.

The saturated red and yellow are the only strong colour in each frame, which is what makes the three hang together — and what makes them read from across a room. Good above a sideboard or a long sofa.

Three oils from the same hand and the same countryside: a fawn standing in a sun-dappled wood, a path cut through wild daisies, and a blossoming tree above open fields. One living thing between two empty scenes — which is what stops a nature wall reading as wallpaper.

Hang the fawn in the middle at eye level and let the other two balance it. All three are 60 × 40 cm and share the same warm, low sun, so the row holds together without any measuring.

Three women, three directions of gaze: one turned thoughtfully aside, one abstracted into line and shadow, one looking straight out of the frame against flat yellow. That last one is the anchor — a portrait wall where nobody meets your eye becomes furniture, and one where everybody does becomes a jury.

A collector-scale group, all 60 × 40 cm. Give it a wall of its own rather than sharing one.

The gallery's most saturated work, gathered deliberately in one place. A peacock in full display, a tiger swimming through blue water, and a lion whose mane carries most of the paint — three animals at the scale where the brushwork itself becomes part of the subject.

The largest wall we sell, and the one that most obviously does not need anything else on it. A feature wall, a stairwell, a room you want people to stop in.