A Saturday in January

Just got in from "road testing" my new prochade box.  I did the coast path from Sennen to Mill Bay and back, about 5 miles in total with lots of painting stops to thoroughly test the kit.

This is the first sketch, it was a very cold day but absolutely beautiful, clear sky and blue sea.  The cliffs round Lands End are high and very rocky with dramatic views of the sea below.  I could spend days painting there.

The prochade box was ordered on Wednesday and arrived on Thursday and I am most impressed with it.  It looks great and holds just the right amount of kit.  I have my old rucksack with another little kit for watercolours, gloves and waterproof trousers, flask etc.  All in all a great way to spend a Saturday in January, well it beats shopping!

September On The River

September on the Helford  River in Cornwall.  It is so much quieter, many of the holiday craft have gone home, there is a thoughtful quality to the air.  It is peaceful and perfect for a few small plein air watercolours.
These are tiny, the biggest being about 21 cm long, that is just a tadge over 8 inches and all about 8 cm high (3.5 inches).
Also shown here is the scrappy little sketch, done in Biro, which I used to "warm up".
I am planning to varnish the paintings, it is a new process which involves a UV isolation coat then picture varnish.  This gets rid of the need for glass in the framing which, in my opinion has three main advantages: 
Glass makes horrible reflections which I think detract from the painting. 
They are easier to post or transport and therefor sell. 
I can experiment with framing and adding things, these for example will be framed together with tiny found objects that I collected at the time.
I shall make a separate post about that. So be excited, be very excited... I am.

Now, I am off to catch a tiny ferry across this very river to walk the cliff, do some more painting and talk to a little gallery there... its a very tough life!

The Thames at Embankment

Charing Cross Bridge & Parliament from Cleopatra's Needle, on the Embankment

11.5" x 17", pen and sepia ink and coloured pencils in Large Moleskine Sketchbook

copyright Katherine Tyrrell

I have a fascination with trying to find the spot where Monet painted the Thames and the Houses of Parliament from the west (as opposed to from the opposite bank in the room he had at St Thomas Hospital).  This is too far west because ths sketch of Embankment Pier was done from the base of Cleopatra's Needle.

However it does provide an excellent place to sketch the Thames without having people peering over your shoulder!  You just need to avoid being on the lower terrace when the tide is coming in!

You can read more about this sketch and location on my sketchbook blog Embankment Pier and Thames at Charing Cross

New Year Project - thinking around ideas

Runswick Bay, Yorkshire, pen. Vivien Blackburn

A big local art group I belong to has an annual project which can be interesting to take part in. The work is then exhibited at the local museum - the topic is usually linked to work in their collection, though one year it was linked to the comedy festival.

We've been given about a dozen paintings and sculptures on show in the museum, by a range of artists from a range of eras, to look at to spark off ideas. Work needs to come from these, not simply be a reworking or copy. The 2 that interest me are a cottage by John Piper and a maquette by Moore. I need to go in and do some sketching from them and some research.

I've liked Piper's work for years, with their interesting marks and textures, so that appeals the most. I also like the sensuous curves of Henry Moore's sculpture - which I may/may not combine with marks and textures reminiscent of Piper. It's on a first-day-of-thinking-about-it stage of development just now. I'll check back in from time to time with progress.

The drawing above is one I considered developing in collage, charcoal, ink and paint.

I thought I'd work from some my old sketches -the information I need is there, they were done plein air but they languish in sketchbooks and need developing.

Links to just some of the work I might develop for this project - I'm undecided at the moment - any thoughts? I only need 3 paintings maximum.

The Crowns, Botallack - I wasn't happy with this and would like to do something more interesting

Sketch of the Crowns

The canal in the city

Canal boats at the marina

Charlestown harbour

Brancaster Staithe

..... back to sketchbooks and thinking .....

17th January - update here - I'll show the finished painting here as a separate post when it's done.

Starting new, looking at the old!

As part of the new year, like many of us, I've been having a tidy up and a clear out. Mainly looking for work for my new year sale. Under my bed (yes, as cliche as that sounds!) I found a very old portfolio of sketches and drawings. It's always fun to look back at what you did before and this portfolio is specifically a selection of works for me to keep - a sort of archive of different time periods and styles.

And in it I found two sample books of pastel paper with sketches in, one was figure drawings but the other was sketches I did in a local park. I used to go out (it was a block behind the studio) and do sketches of the flowers, shrubs, or the pond. So these were a few studies of the water surface and reflections and ripples. (These are about 6-7" square each.)





What I love is how well pastel can be used to do studies like these. They let you imitate the short patches of light and colour, rather like the impressionists did with paint. But at the same time you can be quick and sketchy and try to capture directions and line of the way the water is moving, or where the light is coming from.

For 2010 I've joined a Flickr group for sketching (75 Ways to Draw More), these found sketches remind me to go out with the pastels as much as I use a pencil or marker too! And with the studio next to the river I could really have fun with more water drawings like this. Continually going back to basics should be a firm studio practice. In 2010 I just need to follow my own advice!

My other resolution is to get back to posting on Watermarks more often!

Birds of La Loire

We were bathed in sunlight this past week, which made Sunday a perfect day to pack my bike and sketch the birds of the Loire. Here is a photo of the protected islands in La Loire((Montlouis) where the birds come to nest in spring.

...a close up of the activities...

Two sketches; done from the riverbank, with the road passing right behind my back. I even had cars honking at me, not that I was anywhere near blocking them, so I can just assume it was encouragement!! I wasn't exactly sure how to capture all those birds. These sketches actually do look a little better in my sketchbook than here on the screen.

...les mouettes...

Sketches done in rotring pen and watercolour in sketchbook, 24x19cm.

Then I just captured two pages of some of the birds in flight. Most of the birds on this island are La Mouette melanocéphale. They are white all over, like the normal mouette, but have a black head and red beak, as you can see on the first page of sketches. They are rare in France, but are found on this island here on the banks of Montlouis, where they share space with La Mouette rieuse, the normal loud mouths.

...fly away...

Sketches done with rotring pen, sizes 0.2 and0.7 in Fabriano sketchbook, 20x14cm.

The biggest surprise of the day, was having Hartman show up on his bicycle a while later with a backpack, stuffed with picnic goodies. We parked ourselves next to the Loire on a green patch of grass and shared in a bottle of Loupiac and baguette with cheese. I made a rapid sketch of le pique-nique,...and the effect of the Loupiac can clearly be seen in the sketch!

...surprise!..

sketch with pen and watercolour in sketchbook, 24x19cm

My trusted bicycle, that takes me everywhere. Unfortunately, it doesn't have enough gears, so you'll always find me pushing and puffing on the uphills.

...push and pedal...

Back home I did some oil work from two photographs. These were done one after the other on Sunday afternoon along with a coffee one after the other.. In the second one I used some palette knives along with a broad flat brush.

...birds of the Loire 1...
Oil on canvas block, 20x50cm.

...birds of the Loire 2...
Oil on canvas block, 30x50cm.

It is days like this that I love being an artist. Being completely absorbed in what you're doing. Maybe not producing an "oohh, aahh!" painting, but being totally present in the moment of painting. So much so that you can feel yourself growing, changing and adapting to the demands of the moment.

Not any of these paintings/sketches I did today, is really notable as beautiful artwork and won't see the inside of a gallery. I see many areas which I could've taken on differently, areas where I could've been more patient, where I could've used more bolder daring colour, areas where I could've been more risky as well as areas I could've been less bold, but when I look back on them, I see my process, and that gives me a huge kick. I am already reflecting on how to take the process on in my next painting, using this past process as reference. We all know that to be an artist, is to have 99 percent of experiments and "failures" and 1 percent of finished presentable artwork! It is in the process that we artists find our happiness, no?

Painting and Playing God

Here is the second in my meditation triptych series.  This one uses a detail view of the rocks that I was sitting on, made of serpentine.  Beautiful rich red coloured rock shot through with creamy white veins and patches of green.  It is lovely to look at and I have convinced myself that it colours the sand, I can see pinkish hues in the sand, I know I can!
The time of day for this painting is late afternoon, it is winter, the light is low and rain is coming.  There is a slightly ominous colour to the sky, the rain did come later in quite a big storm too so perhaps that accounts for the strange light.


This is the watercolour sketch for the larger painting.  The sketches in the earlier post, "Training Session", are for this painting also.  I find that by doing these I can calm my senses down and think about colours, tones, effects of light and what is happening in the picture.  Also what I want to happen in the picture, after all, by the time a sketch makes it to become a finished painting, destined for the framers and then the gallery wall, you the artist, are most defiantly the boss.  You can twist light, move mountains if necessary, smooth a cliff or ruffle up a forest.  It is your world, you get to decide what you want to show, to hide or to underline.  

Ah ha!  I have just worked out why I have spent my life being an artist.  I am very bossy, didn't get to be God so became the next best thing, an artist.

Training Session

Right, I am off training, keeping myself artistically fit.  It is a very cold winter afternoon.  The wind is howling and it will be dark soon.  I have dashed out to get my "fix" of the sea.  First of all scramble to the top of the cliff, it is a great view from there but when I get there it is way too windy to attempt to draw.  I struggle with my back pack and find my little camera, snap a few pictures of the surf.  It looks and sounds great from up here but the pictures don't do it justice.  So I call the dog, voice lost on the wind, she sees me flapping about and follows me back down to the beach.
It is high tide so there is no beach but I find a space to sit, out of the wind, tucked in between some rocks.  Now I wait and watch.  Trying to see, trying not to assume I concentrate on looking.  After doing this staring thing for a while I feel as if I have waves in my head, I am at one with the wave and have become flotsam and jetsum!  So suitably zenned up I get out my scraps of cardboard and start to draw.
I am using big pens and bits of cardboard box, sometimes I believe it is necessary to just look and draw, not for any other reason than to train.  Yes, that's it, training.  Like a runner or a swimmer would train hard all the time to keep fit, to try to be better. This is what an artist must do.  Out early or after work, fit it in... this is my training.
So that I keep on my toes and don't get fooled into doing anything other than looking and drawing I try using other materials, don't get precious about paper, this isn't for sale, not even to show anyone (except I have just shown you)  
Draw on anything, make your hand do what you want it to do, look more at what you see and less at your drawing, soak it up and breathe it in.  This is why making art is so good for you.  How can you worry about anything when you have to become so absorbed in your subject?

After a while I am too cold and need to head home where I will try to get some of the waves out of my head and into a painting.

Aylestone Meadows, January

Pollarded Willows, Aylestone Meadows and Ulverscroft Brook, 11in approx Vivien Blackburn

A sketch of pollarded (viciously :>( ) willows in Aylestone Meadows - the area I've chosen to revisit throughout the year.

It was after 3pm and the late sunlight was golden and dramatic against the cool winter colours of the sky, reflections in the water and bleached reeds and grasses. I love these lights, so specific to a season, time or place.

This photo was taken nearby - the willows in the sketch are just a little further along the path. The wall is the beginning of the packhorse bridge, going off to the left across streams and wetland.

When I took this second photo I've shown, back in the Spring, they hadn't been cut back - they may have been getting dangerous? but it's such a shame to see these huge trees butchered like this. My children climbed them when they were young and it will be a few years before any children can climb these and the whole area suffers from their loss. (Though I have to admit I loved drawing them),

The bridge in the first photo is a railway bridge and in the second is a Victorian bridge over the canal, which links to the 15C packhorse bridge that crosses the flood plain to the right. They are taken at about 180deg to each other from only a few yards apart. You can see the modern pedestrian footbridge across the brook, that joins the canal, in the foreground of the second and in the distance in the first.

Marshy land was the most difficult and dangerous for travellers to cross in the past and this was a very important bridge on a route for the coal from the mines in the north of the county as well as local traffic. When the canal was built it destroyed part of the packhorse bridge.

The whole area is a tangle of streams, rivers, pools and canal with a variety of bridges from the 15C to th 20C and flood meadows.

The sketch was done with Neocolor II water soluble crayons and a bit of white gouache and black conte pencil. It's about 11 inches square-ish. ( I don't do 'accurate'!)

Link to sketches of the meadows, waterways and bridges from the air here

PS another version of the willows here on my blog

Meditations

While painting I find that a kind of meditation occurs, brought about by the level of concentration that painting requires.  So as I was musing on this I came up with a plan, to do a series of paintings which would be flanked or complimented by close up studies or meditations. It seems a very useful exercise, focusing the mind, thinking about shape and colour in a more abstract way, although these are not at all abstract.

This is the sketch which I will use for the middle painting in this planned tryptich.  The place is Kennack Sands see here

So I have my plan, my sketch and now I shall begin work on the central painting... all the while meditating on the passing of a great master who died today.  Andrew Wyeth.  I shall be deep in thought.  In my mind I will be walking the lonely shore, listening to the waves booming and remembering a very fine painter indeed.

Painting Journey

I am taking a little trip, you can come too, it is the journey of a painting.  Off we go, across the fields, through the woods, past the village to the ferry, across the water, along the coast to Grebe rock.  

It sounds like a long journey but it isn't, just a couple of miles.

I have with me my dog and my sketching gear.  I am revisiting a painting that I did earlier in the year as I am working on a few paintings for the gallery in Falmouth, Beside The Wave. 

 It is a great spot, you can sit on the cliff and look down through the trees at the water.

First of all I have a cup of coffee, then I sit a while and really listen and look before making a watercolour and pen sketch.  

First I paint the water, looking at how the light is showing the way of the wind.  Next I am using a big permanent marker pen for the trunks, I want to get the feeling of them, big and solid masses.  I use a smaller pen for the scribbles of tiny branches

Then I write a few words down in another note book, it is just to fix things that I have noticed and want to remember for the painting.After that I head home to begin work on the painting.

Once home, the first thing to do is to make a working drawing. 

 I use scraps of coloured pastel paper and black and white conte crayons to make rapid sketches.  This helps me to decide on the composition, the direction of lines and generally to think through the painting.

This is then drawn onto a gessoed board and painted.  It takes several layers of paint to get the depth of colour that I want.  I use brushes of several sizes, a small pallet knife and some bits of card to paint it... and here it is:

Durgan

Oil on board.

6in x 6in.

The bull's hollow

One of the few ponds around where I grew up is really a rather small lochan - a little loch, if I stick with Scottish terminology.

It's the bull's hollow, a depression where a peaty bog developed along a small area of open water. It's in the middle of forests, woodlands, a bit of moorland and heathland, and like so many other landmarks it has a story, which I told a couple of weeks back in my blog [see here for the story].

In any case: it was one of our first destinations for an afternoon walk, and while the rest of my family continued walking, I stayed back and after a few sketches in the moleskine (some of which I posted in my blog here), I did these two pastel sketches, trying to capture the stillness of the water surface. It was so still and so clear you couldn't really tell what was the reflection and what the actual tree.

Water reflections #2,
pastel on board, 25x35cm


Water reflections #1
pastel on board, 35x25cm

And as a belated add-on: here are some photos from the day:

ONE BEACH .... AND TIME 2

This post showed you photographs of this beach through various times, tides, weather and lights - here are just a few of the sketches and paintings done in response to this - many plein air, others are large works on canvas 40ins+ and tiny aceo's done from sketches and memories. I like to work in a wide variety of sizes.

There have been several ongoing discussions here that are really relevant to this series - we've been talking about looking at the same place again and again through different light and seasons - and that is something that really interests me and that I often do - though not to the extent of visiting daily, more in bursts of lots of works over a whole day as the light changes by the hour (or minute with our weather!) on multiple occasions.

This series is about precisely that - the fantastic changes in colour, light, mood, what can be seen clearly and what is lost in shadow, vivid or dark, sunny or cold and breezy, the tide ebbing and flowing leaving pools and streams of glistening water, reflections and wet sand, sunsets, rainstorms. rainbows, wind, wild surf, calm days, blue skies and turquoise seas, silver or green or indigo seas - always different. Unfortunately this is 360+ miles away from me so I can't get there as often as I'd like :>( to do more plein air work there through the winter storms - which are spectacular down there and I would love to get down and paint :>) - so often I find 'bad' weather the most interesting to paint.

For anyone interested in colour, a sense of place, or the mood of a place on a given day, plein air sketching, revisiting a well loved spot regularly and observing the changes is essential. You learn so much and notice more and more. You see colours the camera can't catch. You see fleeting effects of light and colour that you try to fix in your visual memory. You feel the wind or the sun and hear the sea and the birds, which all adds to your memories for future paintings.

In the morning light the far cliff was brightly lit but by afternoon it became almost a silhouette with details hard to make out, backlit by the sun as it went lower in the sky, finally setting over the sea - sometimes in a vivid blaze of colour, other times in subtle silvers and muted colours.

Some people like to work with a limited palette. I find that within a painting I limit my palette but each painting requires different colours in the mixes to catch those fascinating changes. I like to have quite a variety of blues, reds and yellows and then colours like viridian, magenta, permanent rose and a range of colours that only get used occasionally but are perfect when needed, I always mix colours and rarely use them straight from tube or pan but within that mix need a specific blue for instance. So that means I have a wide range of colours to choose from.

Gesa has developed an interest in nocturnes and this is something that fascinates me as well and I've been working on a series, some are in the slide show above, I became really interested in the light on the beach at night and how very bright and light the reflections could be and the beautiful light in the sky just after the sun set as well as sunset itself.

I'm planning to continue this series from the sketches I have but will also think about a local area of water - maybe the local canal - where I can visit regularly at different times, catching the light and reflections and changes with the seasons.

If I think of somewhere local that will interest me enough to constantly revisit, I'll work in a variety of media - it may be that I base it on the canal at Aylestone, here, where there is a medieval packhorse bridge

- so - to stick to the same viewpoint on every visit?

which viewpoint?

or to simply look at a small area around there from whatever viewpoint appeals on the day?

I think it should certainly revisit the same viewpoint frequently, to investigate those fascinating changes in light and colour. Being me, I'm bound to end up loking at other views in the areas as well so I may as well be realistic and weave this mini project into the larger, slow burning (very slow at the moment - as in completely stalled!), waterways project on our local waterways.

I have to think about it. What do you think?