You may remember I made a New Year’s resolution to draw every day. The not unexpected news is that I haven’t done that, but I have done some drawing.
I thought that the best way of ensuring that at least some was done, was to start my classes by arranging that my students, (and therefore me!) did a ten minute sketch at the beginning of each session. We would work in biro so that we were not distracted by rubbing out, and no one need show their work to me or anyone else unless they wanted to. There is a lot of apprehension for many people when drawing is mentioned and I wanted to make the whole practice as pleasant as possible.
Here are some of the things we drew. The Class are enjoying their mini drawing sessions, and we all find that we are looking more analytically as we draw. I don’t think my drawing as improved yet, it’s early days after all, but I do find I have more willingness to draw for painting without employing any of the “crutches” I have used in the past.
Recently, a new Gallery has opened in Farndon, which is great news for local artists. The owner, Ian Walton, who is also an artist- www.ian-walton.com – is punctuating the regular display with themed exhibitions, his first on being “Capturing Spring”. I am delighted that he has accepted two of my own paintings for display in this exhibition, which is running from the 25th of this month to mid-April.
The first of these paintings I want to share with you is this little waterfall.
It’s quite a big painting, 23 inches by 34 inches, but the waterfall itself was not much bigger. I came across it on a Lakeland holiday. It is such a delight -the first long fall then the tumbling splashing escape to the water below, the brave little sapling just showing its leaves, the russets of grass and bush, and what about those rocks! Even in the little places they create the landscape. Deep darks counter-change the light catching the water, rocks and leaves just so.
In contrast, the other painting is light and open, typical of the gentle landscape of parts of Cheshire and Shropshire. This is not a very good reproduction – one of my many future tasks is to get to grips with my camera. The road plunges down the slope, turning at the bottom to climb the hill on the other side. In reality, this is not a road to be walking on. It’s very busy, a fast road with double yellow lines on each side. You would be taking your life in your hands to venture on it. But I have always loved this view which opens before you as you breast the hill. I have made it people-friendly so I can share my pleasure.
Do go to the Exhibition if you live nearby – there is lots to see.
I found the instructions for this delightful little book with pockets on youtube (here), and as I was painting small for the SAA Wall, saw a place to hold my own small treasures. Then I saw that the construction would allow me to design a Dragon to guard them. He would wind round the meandering strip nicely – but I’m getting ahead of myself. That’s a future project. So here is my first attempt.
I used a sheet of marbled paper I had made eons ago on cartridge paper so it’s quite stout and will hold its shape easily. Folding the paper correctly was easy, but working out which edges to stick to make the little pockets was a little more complicated. I have a little tool which cuts the half moons in the top of each of the seven pockets neatly, if not always in the right place. Book cloth from the same era as the marbled paper covered the outside (strengthened by card) which I decorated with circles cut from the paper offcuts. It’s a nice little tool and I was enjoying it.
Now I need to paint seven small treasures – a good discipline as I usually paint big. Seven is a number to conjure with- seven days in a week, seventh month of the year (July holds my birthday), the seven stars, or making it easy, seven small paintings I’m pleased with.
Details, details – but important ones, like getting the lighting on all objects from the same place. My reference material had lighting from which ever place created the best image, and it is sometimes difficult in the throes of painting, to retain your own light source. The silver Cup was particularly bothersome, so much so that I took my camera to Chester searching for big Cups with sideways lighting, collecting some funny looks at the same time.
Then there was the cane medallion in the chair. If I painted it meticulously, it would look “tight” and anxious – overdone, careful. But I couldn’t leave it as a blur, since the rest of the painting was more defined. Moreover, the weave was interesting, hexagonal, though not clear from the small pencil drawing I used as reference. Even the World Wide Web was unable in my inexpert hands to provide me with a usable reference. Then I remembered a cane table basket. I studied it carefully, put it away, very nearly closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and “went for it” – mission complete.
I finished the painting of St James’ Garlickhyde, making Martin’s arm the right length in the process. In the beginning it was too long, his fingers would have reached his knees if it had been straightened; then I overcompensated. Finally I got my husband to pose with an appropriate scarf draped to represent the robe. Thereafter I added some lettering to the Cup and tufting to the carpet. Only the hands and faces to complete now. This was a matter of inching up to the desired effect, a dab of paint, followed by a lot of thought. then another dab.
Well, neither Holbein nor Alma-Tadema need to lose much sleep over me, but I have so enjoyed the effort and have learnt so much about composition, colour, relative size, lighting, reflections, faces – eight months of rare delight.