Sometimes you have to look long and draw fast!

Volissos Fishing Boat (Pastel 19.5" x 25.5")

I don't know if you've ever had a go at drawing boats but their 'architecture' and the way perspective works is a bit different to buildings!

I was reminded of this while accompanying Sarah Wimperis and her husband around the Royal Society of Marine Artists exhibition (see my REVIEW: Royal Society of Marine Artists - 65th Annual Exhibition 2010)

Listening to "Big Dave" tell me about which boats had NOT been drawn or painted by people who understood boats convinced me that we shouldn't try to "hack it" when drawing boats.  Just like wildlife or flowers we should always take some time out to work out how they are put together and what makes them work.

It seemed to me that careful observation is probably the key.

I was then reminded of an experience I had in Chios, a Greek island in the northern Aegean Sea, back in 1995.  I was staying in Volissos and we were drawing fishing boats down in Limnos harbour.  Or rather I was trying to draw fishing boats.  I was having one of those experiences where you gradually begin to understand this is a LOT more difficult than it looks and that I had attempted a subject I didn't understand - and I was making a complete pig's ear out of it.

Before lunch I decided I needed to do something to make sure that it hadn't been a completely wasted morning - and to see whether I'd learned anything. 

I took a complete sheet of what was known in those days as Rembrandt Pastel Card and drew just one boat "up close and personal" in pastels. 

The trick was I didn't think too much about what I was looking at but rather tried to observe closely and use what I'd learned in terms of the big shapes and proportions and basic structure of a boat.  I got it very nearly right (it bulges a wee bit too much on the right hand side!) and I think drawing on a big sheet also helped.

The drawing at the top was actually completed in 20 minutes - at the end of which I seemed to have produced a boat which was not immediately about to fall over and sink! :)  Honour was redeemed.  It would appear that the whole morning had not been a lost cause and that maybe I had learned something.

Hidden rivers

River - Austin Street East - in progress

pastel 10 x 13

I've started a small series of pieces to explore the hidden rivers of the city.

Each day I pass by small rivers and larger rivers, all on their way to the ocean and I, as well as most people, take them for granted.  They become swallowed up with the concrete and buildings and traffic that surround them.

Some are highly visible, some flow underground for most of their life, some are no more than trickles over pebbles and some are like wild rapids.

 River - Austin Street West

pastel 10 x 13

In the area where I work, its very modern and urban, yet there is a touch of wildness in the little river that flows through the land, under the road, and on its way to sea.  This is a small green space in a sea of concrete and glass.  Until I decided to look more closely at the river system in the city and track its path to the sea, I didn't really pay much attention to it.

So now, here is a glimpse into the streams and rivers that flow through the City of St. John's.  These are in soft pastel about 10 x 13" on Canson paper.

I am also tracking the my viewpoints of the river on Google Street View so you can see my vantage point most of the time.

View Larger Map

Water's edge studies

My views of the Atlantic Ocean continue to hold a fascination for me.  I love the different shades of blues and turquoises that appear depending on the light quality.

These views are at the water's edge in Flatrock and Pouch Cove and I'm working out my pastel kinks with them.  The subtleties of values is what makes water visually appealing and believable to me.  Trying to capture that on paper isn't always successful.  These are more of works in progress than finished pieces, as I feel my way through waves, foam and rocks in this medium.

River to the sea

 

The movement of water over rock carved out this little curved pool at the base of some high cliffs near Red Head.   A stream wound its way from miles uphill through barrens, woods and rock.  It hugged the rock, mixing with a trickle oozing from the rock face that joined it on its journey to the sea.

It picked up speed as the ground sloped downwards over time and water smoothed rock leaving little bubbles of are and creating bands of foam then darkening as the stony hollow deepened.  It  became more still ,as if deciding what to do and where to go.  It hesitated before taking the final plunge into the salty ocean, relinquishing its sweetness to the cycle that would go on forever.

Water in Newfoundland and Labrador is one of the least polluted in the world.  Its clarity always amazes me, whether in streams like this or at the ocean's edge where I can see to the bottom as long as light permits.  Not all rivers remain pristine as industry encroaches on wilderness, but with a land so full of ponds and lakes and wilderness, we have a better chance than most to access natural water that is still unpolluted.

 This pastel has more work left in it, but its heading in the right direction I believe.  This pool was found after travelling down a path that only mountain goats would go, that lead to the water and leave you at sea level literally.

A day at the beach

The interaction of sea against shore fascinates me.   I think it appeals to most people.  There is something primal about standing on a shore and feeling, hearing, tasting the waves as they roll in.
The water sculpts the land and the rocks near the shore to create peaks and valleys and it carves out openings, eventually collapsing rock til it returns to sand once more.

I have revisited this pastel that I did a couple of years ago of a stone archway on Laguna Beach in California.  The action of surf against what looks to be a fairly sandy stone created an archway through it.  What it doesn't show is the scale of this arch.  Its large enough for 2 people to walk through easily.

I wasn't satisfied with the first pastel, so went back and reworked it a little.  I wanted to intensify the colours in the rocks against the blue sky and now I think the piece is about where I want it to be.  I'm not proficient in pastel simply because I haven't used it enough.  I enjoy it when I do, so perhaps I should be picking it up more often.

There is benefit in revisiting a piece and creating it in several mediums.  There is always something new to learn with each visit.  I have recently created another painting of this view in oils which is on my blog and am considering a full size charcoal piece of it also.

And more explorations of the ocean on rocks with my digital sketch using the program that Vivien mentioned yesterday in her post.  It is a very useful way of dropping quick ideas as thumbnails for future use.  Yes, I could have used paper, but this way is even quicker.  This is from an image taken at Topsail Beach last month.  Watching the waves wash over these rocks is an endless pastime for me.  Bell Island and Kelly's Island are in the distant background.  Bell Island is still inhabited and was once famous for its mines, now more as a tourist destination, as the mines closed in 1949.

Still with a watery theme, but on my blog, is the work in progress of an aging dory that I spent time with last summer. I played with digitized manipulations of this boat, trying to decide the best medium for it.  I finally decided on pen and ink and a pointilissm technique.  You can have a peek at the progress here.

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!

I made it to the sea!

... I've been very silent here for the past two months... all the while sitting in sunny, hot and very lovely Berlin and all the water features I got to see were the occasional heavy thundery downpours. But they usually caught me by surprise and so weren't captured on (wet) paper.

But finally: in week six while in Germany I've made it to the sea - the Baltic Sea - and if you have been following my visit on my own blog, it wasn't just any old place on the Baltic Sea but CALIFORNIA. Well - not strictly true - it's Kalifornien, the German spelling, complete with a camping site called CALIFORNIA.

While my friend Ate was busy filming her final project for her art school degree (on the confusions between Kalifornien and California) I did spend a bit of time sketching among the assisting with sound, interviewing, generally keeping our camping van clean and proper and a lot of swimming in the sea.

This is what the Baltic Sea Kalifornien looks like:

And here some of my sketches at night, and one morning just as the seafog was going to lift.

Kalifornien Nocturne No 1,
35x25cm, soft pastel on board


After the fog,
35x25cm, soft pastel on board

Last light

For the last two days there have been wonderful clouds in the sky heralding a change in weather and some much needed rain. I started the clouds for this piece from life, but the sun was blinding even on dark paper and of course the clouds moved constantly across the sky. This is common of course in plein air work and I usually get the outlines and values in place then work on it on site or back at the studio.

I took a few shots of the clouds for reference and started playing with them in the studio using pastels on a lovely half sheet of Canal paper by St-Armand in Blue Denin. As I manipulated the clouds, the sea and distant headland just arrived unbidden. What started out as reality morphed into a mix of reality, memory and wishful thinking.

I don't use pastels often, but enjoy the freedom they give when done loose and large. There seem to be as many techniques of laying down colour with pastel as there are people who use them. I feel still very much a learner when using them, as they aren't as familiar to me through use as some other mediums.

The heavy clouds seemed to fit the scene of last light before night, covering the land and ocean and waiting for the rainstorm to arrive.

Water on Earth Day: no water in sight in Elquí Valley, Chile

... and yet: it tends to be a problem.

Elqui Valley in the Coquimbo Region in the Norte Chico of Chile is characterised by a semi-arid climate with annual rainfalls of only 90-100 mm. And yet, the ground of the valley is highly utilised farmland: of vinyards, oranges, avocados and, well, yes, more vinyards, producing the popular Pisco.

Pisco Elquí 1,
Soft Pastel on Board, 35x25cm


Tres Cruces, Elquí Valle,
Soft Pastel on Board, 35x25cm

It's one of the most amazing landscapes I've seen so far. The blue of the sky in autumn heat, soft pink/yellow/red mountains filled with cacti vegetation enclosing lime green plantation. Such contrast! And, with Elqui Valley ranking as the top spot for clear night skies (300+ days pa without any clouds), it air sparkles and vibrates.

The ecological system is designed around the supply of freshwater through Río Elquí and its two contributories Río Claro and Río Turbío - with the latter passing through one of large mining areas of the country and thus carrying high loads of heavy metals.

Over recent years, however, heavy and erratic rainfalls - crazy rains, lluevias locas - that coincides with the El Niño phenomena threatens communities and agricultural production. It loosens debris from the hillslopes and causes dangerous debris flows into the valleys. Climate change - and with it an increased and more intense occurrence of El Niño as well as in the higher variability of melt water flow with the recession of many of the Andean glaciers which supply the original water source of Río Elquí is one reason for this. Anoether reason lies in the higher intensity of agricultural production on hill slopes as well as more intensive goat herding along the slopes.

• A map of the region is here
• An article on rain fall variability and vulnerability of the Elquí Valle is here

• For more on my recent travels around Chile, a collection of my recent posts are here
• And, there is a sister post on Gabriela Mistral, the Chilean poet and Nobel laureate who grew up in Elquí Valle, here

Aylestone Meadows, winter light

Aylestone Meadows, late afternoon sunlight on a cold cold day. Charcoal and pastel, Vivien Blackburn

I've virtually finished this larger pastel of the willows now. It's 16 to 18 inches, though I haven't actually measured it yet. There's a write up here. It was done mainly in Unison pastels as I love their rich velvetiness and the way they don't disintegrate like some brands.

I wanted to catch the cold pale colours of the landscape and sky with the dramatically silhouetted pollarded willows with the warm late sun amber on one side of them and the cold sheen of the water behind.

I'm also working on a linoprint of these trees - you can see an early stage pencil rubbing of it here.

These trees aren't traditionally beautiful (they were up to last Spring :>( they were BIG trees) but the whippy branches slice the sky into little triangles and geometric shapes and they are very interesting to draw.

update: linoprints of the willows here

Waterman's Pond

Waterman's Pond

pastel on painted paper

I've been tied up doing portraits for the past week or more but water still sits in my head and ideas swirl around, waiting for opportunity to come out.

The strangest thing about the Watermarks project is how it coaxes things out of me that I never knew were there. My detail in portraits is realistic but I'm finding that my water projects are becoming more abstract at times. I'm exploring more shapes and colours rather than detail.

The inspiration from this piece comes from two sources. One, a section of Waterman's Pond which is very close to where I live and which I drive by every day. Its covered in ice now and with our strange winter of freezing and thawing the surface had a mix of snow and a sheen of polished ice on the surface in the early morning.

Some bracken poking up through the snow layer mixed with dirty snow from the side of the road all added to the scene.

The second form of inspiration came from a journal that I recently bought. Its almost a piece of art in its own right. Its made of Arches paper which is painted with a mix of water, ink and liquid acrylic paints forming organic patterns.

I used the basic shape that was present in the painted paper and let the pastels do the work to create the stream still flowing and the sheen of the ice beyond the snowbank. Early morning light here gives an almost pastel colouring to water and snow that I find very appealing.

It seems I'm doing a lot of preliminary work parked in snowbanks in the early hours of the morning. I do get odd looks but the advantage is that its too cold for people to stop and ask what I'm doing.

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: