In his latest exhibition of watercolours, Steven Masters' one-man show which is currently on view at the Windjammer Gallery, confirms that he belongs to the tiny group of contemporary artists who can be said to have elevated the course of Bermudian art.

His 33 works, while forming an ongoing homage to his homeland, concentrate less on the landscape image than on what he calls "the cool nooks and crannies'', the often overlooked, unlauded utalitarian objects which he, personally, finds "so full of life''.

This time, he has been increasingly drawn to Dockyard, unquestionably a repository of utalitarianism and brushed, now, with the patina of history.

Rusting capstans, dusty coils of rope, barrels, bollards and above all, the faded, yet brooding splendour of Commissioner's House, provide a subtle, yet curiously romantic theme for this impressive body of work.

Disarmingly modest, Mr. Masters maintains that as an art teacher (at the exclusive Miss Hall's School in Pittsfield, Massachusetts), he has the best of both worlds. "As well as teaching and painting in the States, I am able to spend the summers here. I have the freedom to explore as an artist precisely because I am not forced to do it for a living. I wouldn't like to be in the position,'' he says with a laugh, "where each brush stroke is worth $1.87, or whatever!'' Educated at Warwick Academy and the Hotchkiss School before obtaining a degree in Art from Williams College, Mr. Masters taught for some years at Saltus Grammar School. Recent shows abroad include the Greg Wyatt Gallery in New York, the Goodrich Gallery at Williams College, and a series of guest teaching commissions for the Clark Art Institute and the Fine Arts Department at Amherst.

An accomplished draughtsman who has long been able to use an understated palette to evoke the more subtle nuances of Bermuda's ever-changing light, he admits to a liking for buildings that are `unscathed' by modern, `sharp edges' or by `fixing up'. "I love, especially, that magically moment just before dawn, trying to define its ethereality before the colours of the day unfold.'' Unlike many artists who perhaps believe their work to be self-explanatory -- or at any rate, are loath to discuss the impetus behind the end result, Steven Masters speaks eloquently on the artist's mission. "Ultimately, an artist has to communicate with his audience. I am communicating in a visual language and, just as a person who does that verbally, using body language, subtle intonations and movement, so too does the artist who `talks' in a visual way.

An artist's work is enhanced by responses from viewers. From a teaching standpoint, just as you would be given the vocals, grammar and usage, so as an artist, you learn the rudimentaries of drawing and painting and then, you have to be able to put it in context -- to make sure the `dialogue' is there. You must be able to create the illusion of depth, and to share an emotion by bringing place, line, colour, linear and area perspective and texture to make a painting `sing'.'' Referring to the `movement' of his work, Mr. Masters says he likes the analogy of dance, "a favourite term of mine because it indicates that there is a partner of some sort -- which, for the artist, may well be the viewer. If a painting `dances' it indicates a successful communication between the painter and the audience. On another level, I suppose you could also think of `the dance of life' -- to be flexible and to know when to be firm, when to leap, splash, smile, laugh, and to listen -- which is a big part -- perhaps the biggest part is the willingness to listen to ourselves.'' He notes, too, that a painting is composed in much the same way as a dance is choreographed, bringing the dynamics of movement into an empty void.

In a practical sense, Mr. Masters reveals that he makes quick, `thumbnail' sketches of a subject, setting or a fleeting moment that captures his attention. "It may have little to do with the end result, but I do put the sketch in front of me because it provides the emotional impact and response.

If you are in a boat, for instance, and you see something that's very beautiful or remarkable in some way -- it may be the north wind bending the trees on a crisp day -- you have to record it immediately. A brief little sketch provides a mental jog to the memory.'' Steven has produced a `Masterful' show "It is, however,'' he stress, "merely a starting point for the adventure of getting to know a particular place or scene better and to discover what caught my attention in the first place.'' The sketch may be as simple as the leaning stance of a tree as he walks up a mountain. "It creates a pattern of shadows, and the recording of that impression is central to my working method.'' He recalls that just a couple of days ago he was returning from a diving expedition with his family on the shoals just off the West End. "We had just gone under Watford Bridge and I saw this little island that's covered with beautiful grey cedar skeletons and I made a quick sketch. Now, when I return, it may not even be the images of the cedars that hold my attention. It may be the light, the colour of the rocks at low tide, or even the fish nets that have washed up into a little tidal pool there. That sense of unpredictability is the major impetus for painting. There are no specific expectations -- just the general serendipity of nature!'' As an artist who constantly paints aspects of his native island, Steven Masters is well aware of what he calls the "emotional aesthetic'', comparing it with the language and illustrations of children's literature. "Nostalgia is a powerful emotion and may be written and visual, as well as the sense of smell which can often evoke experiences of childhood. So we constantly see or smell something that subconsciously reminds of certain places or events. In my case, the images of boats, for instance, are very strong. I guess I see nooks and crannies when I close my eyes and think of Bermuda -- also the cool and the shade, the satisfaction of a boat well rowed, the slow or fast wake of a boat, the sounds of wooden oars, bronze oarlocks, the wooden boat and the sound of fish being netted. All of these images are very powerful for me.'' He muses on the question of whether it is artistically helpful to return to Bermuda each year with `fresh' eyes. "Yes, I think the most exciting thing for me, as a painter, is to see familiar subjects in a different light, from a different perspective. I do think it's important to continue to see Bermuda with `fresh' eyes -- speaking personally, I don't think I would be much good as a `travelling' painter. It is very important for me to have an inherent understanding of my subjects.'' Steven Masters' Exhibition of Watercolours is being held over at the Windjammer Gallery until July 4.