sunshine in the City

Wisteria, St Paul's Churchyard
© Teresa Newham 2011

As I mentioned in my last blog, we enjoyed an unseasonal heatwave in the run-up to Easter.  Sunny weather brings out the tourists and locals alike in London (the latter easily spotted by their pasty skin slowly turning red in the unaccustomed heat).  With two four-day weekends in prospect for Easter and the Royal Wedding there was a festive atmosphere in the City; wandering the streets between City Thameslink station and my office just south of Southwark Bridge I was tempted to reach for my mobile phone camera more than once.

I've posted a few of the results to the Photos on the Run page on my website.  Whether tourists, commuters hurrying to the office or people (known as mudlarks) scavenging at the river's edge for who-knows-what, we were all delighted to see the sun!

Out of Sync

Ludgate Hill - outline sketch, inked up but not painted
© Teresa Newham 2011

I've come to the conclusion that artists live their lives out of sync.  Or maybe it's just me . . .  I have a whole list of 'future paintings' slowly coming into being in my head, there's usually a 'current painting' on the go (or at least an initial sketch of it), and once it's finished, to my mind it's done and dusted - old hat - until a few months later when I find myself framing it up for exhibition and watching other people's reactions to it.

Ludgate Hill - 'inspirations board' and experimental colour washes
© Teresa Newham 2011

This has been brought home to me forcibly over the last couple of weeks while I've been painting Ludgate Hill, a view which I'd been intending to capture since I did some London-themed paintings last year.  Exactly how to go about it was (as usual) the question, and it wasn't until I emerged from City Thameslink station in a downpour one dingy February morning earlier this year that I had the answer:  the lights and reflections of the traffic and shop windows and people.

Ludgate Hill - half painted
© Teresa Newham 2011

What with one thing and another I didn't even get an initial sketch down until March; translating it to something I could paint, adjusting the layout and inking it up brought me to April before any watercolour paint got near it.  The net result is a scene of a gloomy, wet, atmospheric day which was actually painted during the hottest April weather I can remember.  And next up I'm going to try my hand at some paintings of Venice, which I also visited in February when the weather there was bitterly cold . . . . !

Ludgate Hill
pen & watercolour wash
© Teresa Newham 2011

arrivederci, Venezia!

sunrise, Riva del Schiavoni
© Teresa Newham 2011

We recently went to Venice.  It was our honeymoon, in fact - and a more romantic place I can't think of.  Canals, gondolas, churches, palaces - and no traffic.  Bitterly cold weather but sunny most of the time;  it was just before the Carnival so masks and costumes abounded but  the city was not too crowded.  As we walked the streets hand-in-hand for four days, I still found time to take over 400 photos . . .  some are the usual holiday snaps, some I will turn into prints and cards, some I will use as the basis for watercolours and printmaking.

And the handful I've posted to the photos on the run page on my websiteare exactly that - snatched in a hurry or at random, some at waist level, some point-and-shoot-and-hope-for-the-best.  There's a shop window - one of my favourite subjects, as you can get some great reflections.  And one of some sunshine hitting shutters in such a way to turn them to copper colour.  Carnival masks - I used to find these quite creepy but in context they are striking and full of local colour.

I would love to visit Venice again some time.  Still, she's given me enough inspiration to last for a while!

and so it begins again . . .



View from my back bedroom window
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Delighted to say that two of my pieces have been accepted for this weekend's Seasons in a Garden exhibition in the Conservatory at the Luton Hoo Walled Garden. The exhibition involves 80 local and national artists showing works inspired by gardens; artists will be demonstrating their skills and visitors will be able to view some amazing eco-sculptures made by pupils from fourteen local schools. The garden itself is a restoration project and well worth a visit in its own right; you can find out more about it here.   The two artworks I'm showing are the pen & wash piece View from my Back Bedroom Window, and one of my Acer Leaf monoprints.

Acer Leaf Monoprints
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

The other piece of good news is that we are going to be able to exhibit at Artscape again later this year during Herts Open Studios.    Still trying to finalise the details, but things are looking up!

photos on the run

A recent on-line discussion about photography has rekindled my enthusiasm for taking photos on the run.  It's something I've neglected recently, and there really is no excuse:  I bought a mobile phone with a pretty good camera on it precisely so I could take random shots out and about without lugging my camera everywhere!  of course, it's not as good as a 'real' camera but the images taken can spring a surprise.  For example, these two shots of St Paul's Cathedral were taken in far more colourful conditions than the phone camera could cope with;  but the results look almost black and white apart from the green traffic light in the first photo and the red London bus in the second one.  If I'd tried to get that effect deliberately, it wouldn't have worked!

© Teresa Newham 2011

© Teresa Newham 2011

I've enjoyed taking off-the-cuff images so much during the past month or so that I've created a new page on this blog specifically for photos like these - December 2011: the photos have moved here to my website.  I've started it off with five of my favourite shots.  I intend to update the new page regularly . . . so watch this space!

Yavanna, Revealed



Yavanna Kementári
pen & watercolour wash
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2011



























February in the UK heralds the signs of approaching Spring:  the mornings and evenings are noticeably lighter, the birds are singing more and more to encourage the sap to rise;  trees are showing a first glimpse of colour - blossom, even, in the mildest areas - and snowdrops and crocuses are pushing up through the earth.  These changes, which we have waited for so long, come thick and fast;  and in the spirit of the promise of new life, my painting of Yavanna Kementári, which I blogged about a couple of weeks ago, has come to completion.

I say my painting, but I don't really think of it that way:  this painting, once eventually begun, revealed its subject with the slightest of input from me.  The element which gives life to this image is the original background wash, and the least successful elements (leaves and flowers on the trees) are the ones where I tried to intervene too much.  To my surprise and delight, once I'd laid down some water on Yavanna's cloak and added random brushfuls of paint,  this overwash dried into a texture reminiscent of foliage;  at one point I had thought I might inlcude a representation of flowers or leaves on her dress, but abandoned the idea. And, as Tolkien described, she is 'crowned by the sun' - but I never planned it that way!

Yavanna, emerging

Some things take a while to come to fruition.  My latest project, a painting of Yavanna Kementári from JRR Tolkien's The Silmarillion, took two years to come to the drawing board;  just how do you paint one of the Valar?  Tolkien gives us compelling descriptions of Yavanna:  in the form of a woman she is tall, and robed in green*; some have seen her standing like a tree under heaven, crowned with the Sun*; elsewhere in The Sil he tells of how she sings into existence the Two Trees of Valinor, Telperion and Laurelin, who wax and wane in turn and give a lovely light: Thus in Valinor twice a day there came a gentle hour of softer light when both trees were faint and their gold and silver beams were mingled*. To paint such a vision was an ambitious plan, and for a long time I had no idea how to go about it.


Yavanna Kementári, pen and ink drawing
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010




 




 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 




Last summer it became clear that any kind of depiction would be better than none, so I started to sketch some basic layouts.  I wanted an Art Nouveau feel to the piece and decided to frame Yavanna with the Two Trees.  How to place her was the next question;  I decided against a pose, preferring to show her almost in passing, perhaps with a fern springing from the hem of her cloak as she walked.  By October I was able to put down a pencil sketch, and eventually, having modified it several times, I felt confident enough to ink it up, holding my breath as I did so.
 
Now came my next decision.  The outline sketch was extremely simple; if I simply filled in the colour it would look lifeless.   There was no way I could make it look realistic - who knows what a Valar looks like?  or the Two Trees?  and how on earth do you depict gold and silver light, mingling??  I had no idea what to do, and Christmas came and went. In the meantime I did some experimental paintings with bold washes and plenty of water, as described on this blog in January.  So I asked myself: what would happen if I used those on my painting of Yavanna?


Yavanna Kementári, first wet washes
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2011

  




















Action followed thought (not too much thought- counter-productive!). I wetted the paper and dropped in quantities of turquoise and indian yellow.  Then I added some ultramarine and quinacridone gold for good measure.  The whole thing was very, very wet.  For a while I sat there and literally watched the paint drying;  depending on where the pools of water had gathered, colour was marching across the paper, blending and marching back again.  I was pretty sure there were some wonderful greens growing in there, but I couldn't be certain how they would dry.  I made myself walk away until the morning.

Yavanna Kementári, first washes dried
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2011

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

When I went back the next day, I was astounded with the result.  I almost didn't dare touch it any more; wouldn't it do perfectly well as it was?  Tempted as I was to leave it, I decided to carry on, to find out how Yavanna would present herself to me.  But that will have to wait until the next blog - partly because she isn't finished yet  . . . .!

* The Silmarillion, by JRR Tolkien, published by HarperCollins

colour and light

I've never got on with masking fluid.  No matter how careful I am, the surface of the paper always gets damaged, whether I'm using it neat or diluted.  Nonetheless, in a continued spurt of post-Christmas enthusiasm, I decided a couple of weekends ago to have another try with it, drawing the outline of a dove holding an olive branch.  To create a really vibrant background I dampened rather than wetted the paper, and dropped in large amounts of pure colour.  Then I spattered some water over the  whole thing, just to see what would happen.

dove of peace
watercolour & ink
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2011

The result was a fabulous range of colour, softened in places by some sublte runbacks.  But when I peeled off the masking fluid, a little of the surface paper came away with it.  The paper I use is extremely soft, which explains the problem (on the other hand, you can soak it several times without it complaining at all LOL)  I further defined the dove with a pen, but on the whole it's rather unsatisfactory. Still, the success of the background had made me keen to try again - but without the masking fluid next time!

Accordingly, last Sunday I carefully drew a pencil outline of a dove, then rubbed most of it out, dampened the area outside the outline and lobbed in even more pure colour than I had with the previous painting.  After it dried off a little I spattered some water to see what would happen.  Then I left it alone for several hours before painting in the dove with a backlit effect (I should 'fess up right here that I pinched the idea of the backlit dove from a Christmas card I got several years ago).

Spirit
watercolour
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2011

This produced a far better result - although the dove is a bit wonky, the backlighting gives a lively effect.  I'm really pleased with the intensity of colour. And, as last Sunday was the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, when according to the gospel of Matthew, the Spirit of God descended on Jesus like a dove, I've called it Spirit.

Finally, this week my latest order arrived from Great Art.  I've decided to liven up my colour palette and introduce some of my experimental techniques into other areas of my painting.  So - more paper, a new porcelain palette, several new tubes of watercolour paint in shades I haven't used before; oh yes, and I must get round to doing some more linocutting . . .

Going with the Snow

Most Christmasses, I'm given a book about painting - usually from my wishlist.  This year's was How to Paint Colour and Light in Watercolour by Jean Haines, which I first spotted in an edition of Artists & Illustrators.   Frankly, I thought it might give me a shove - I haven't done any painting for a while - and bring me back to where I started out with watercolours several years ago - letting go and going with the flow.  I'd seen some snowy Cambridgeshire fields from the car on Boxing Day which had given me the idea for a subject.  Even a heavy cold couldn't deter me from making a start (though it did ensure I sat quietly and read the book through several times before attempting to put anything on paper).

Snowscape I
watercolour
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Now, I never like to follow a book slavishly, but, aware that I'd become stuck in a rut with my colours, I chose suitably snowscape-y ones similar to those which Jean recommends - violet, ultramarine, alizarin, indian yellow and turquoise and laid down a wet blended wash of several shades as instructed.  Then I mapped in some hedges with violet and ultramarine - remembering to let them blend on the paper rather than mixing them on the palette - and added a line of grass.  Deciding that something was needed in the foreground, I painted in some cautious twigs - far too carefully, but Jean came to the rescue with the idea of splattering some water on to soften them.  Even so, the first painting turned out a bit on the stilted side, and the washes dried extremely pale - but hey, I'd done a couple of hours painting and really enjoyed it!!

Snowscape II
watercolour & gouache
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

For my next attempt I tried to be a bit more dramatic with the washes, and used Jean's suggestion of tilting the paper to create a few runs which might suggest something for the composition.  That's how the tree (which I never envisaged in the first place) ended up top left; the way the washes dried also suggested where the hills should be (we're a long way from Cambridgeshire now.  Perhaps somewhere near Hereford?).  Instead of twigs I added a foreground of grasses over some large wet areas I'd slapped in with the Chinese brush  I bought last July and never used (thanks for the tip, Jean!).  It's a long time since I've done any spattering but it soon came back to me (including - too late - the bit about never wearing a white T-shirt when trying this technique) and I added some white gouache snow to the grasses for good measure.  The spattering does add life  to this picture - perhaps a little too much!!

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Snowscape III
watercolour & gouache
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010
 
For the third painting I was determined to strengthen those background washes still further.  Ironically, the fact that our snow has melted means that the days appear much darker, and lack of time decreed that I laid down the background relatively late one afternoon.  By the time I went to bed I had no idea how to proceed with the resulting effect - I couldn't see a picture there at all - but I woke this morning with the idea of a house spilling light onto the snow from its doors and windows.  I'm not that keen on the hedgerows in the first two paintings so I left them out completely and defined the hilltop with an ultramarine wash over the sky.  More grasses, a bit of spattering with colour and white gouache - it's no masterpiece but it's shown me the way forward LOL.
 
Happy New Year!!

total whiteout

Harpenden Common at sunrise
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

A gentle dusting of snow had me reaching for my mobile phone camera as I walked gingerly to the station along icy pavements soon after 8am yesterday morning.  I've had little or no time for anything vaguely creative recently beyond singing in some carol concerts, but my imagination was caught by the sun lighting up the still autumnal colours of the trees, set off by the snowy highlights.

Harpenden Common, 8.15 on a December morning
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Risking life and limb as I teetered along I managed to grab a variety of shots without falling over or suffering frostbite to my camera hand.  Gathering clouds filtered the sunlight - the whole effect was lovely and subtle.

It's all been a bit different today, however - snowing steadily (or should that be heavily?) from 11am to 4pm.  Here's a shot from my back bedroom window at lunchtime.  Compare it with the balmy scene depicted here and you'll notice the difference!

another view from my back bedroom window!

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

The unusual weather is making it difficult to get about - I still have no idea whether I'll make it to church tomorrow,  let alone work on Monday - and I've warned my Christmas guests to make sure they  have a suitable Christmas lunch to eat in their freezer at home just in case they don't make it over here.  But it's also an opportunity to take photos and look at things with an artist's eye.  Who knows, I might actually manage to do some painting or printmaking over the Christmas break! 

snow on a lavender bush
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010