A View of St Paul's

A View of St Paul's
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

For the latest painting in my London series I've moved north of the river - just - to St Paul's Cathedral.  It's quite a big deal moving from south to north, and vice versa - I was born north of the river and until a few years ago I'd always worked north of the river, too; it seemed strange to start crossing bridges to Bankside when I moved offices.  The north end of the Millenium Bridge leads you across the hustle and bustle of Queen Victoria Street straight towards the south door of the cathedral, with its imposing columned portico.  Sets of steps and a gentle slope lead enticingly towards the building:  at the top of the slope the visitor is greeted by a small area of parkland before crossing St Paul's Churchyard (which is a street, despite the name) to the Cathedral itself.

It's frustratingly difficult, if not impossible, to get a complete view of the front or side of St Paul's;  it's too big to fit into the camera frame, and there are no places to stand back and view the whole thing.  The front (west) entrance is approached via Ludgate Hill, and I've spotted many a tourist risking life and limb in the traffic for that perfect shot which isn't going to happen.  I used to curse the post-war town planners for hemming in St Paul's with surrounding buildings; and only discovered quite recently that the layout of this part of the City of London goes back to the Great Fire of London in 1666. 

The fire itself only wreaked so much devastation because various aldermen were reluctant to let their houses be razed to the ground to make a firebreak;  afterwards, Sir Christopher Wren drew up plans for a new City of piazzas approached by wide boulevards.  But interested parties were at work again, and by the time he got round to putting his plans into action, the houses around St Paul's had started to be rebuilt and their owners wouldn't sell up.  Londoners have always been cussed. The City fathers were uncomfortable with Wren's plans for the cathedral, particularly the dome, so he pretended to be building a different design, and by the time they noticed, it was too late (you can read more about this here).

The southerly approach to the Cathedral has a special character all its own.  There's a café and a pub at the top of the steps to the left of my painting which will serve you breakfast, lunch, dinner and everything in between. At quiet times skateboarders use the series of steps and the flat areas between them for practice.  During the annual City of London Festival, a "play your own" piano is set up behind the bench in my painting, for passers by to entertain the crowds; many sit on the steps to listen as the area becomes an impromptu outdoor concert hall.  And in December that slope leads you up to the St Paul's Christmas tree, decked out in silver, while fairy lights are hung in the trees round about.

The painting shows an ordinary sunny summer's afternoon; tourists and visitors from all over the world mingling with City types going about their business as the Cathedral looks on, unmoved and unmovable.  That Wren knew a thing or two . . .

Skellig Sunset

Skellig Sunset
watercolour
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

rose-golden hills in the last rays of sun
wild weather stilled as the day's course is run
two mighty rocks in the wide open sea
Skelligs in silent age-old mystery

cry of the seabird at rest from its flight
prayer of the holy man seeking the light
thanks of the sailor for lighthouse-lens beams:
Skelligs the keepers of hopes, wishes, dreams

Little and Great Skellig: distant they lie
at the edge of the world under wide open sky;
past, present, future, feel time itself cease -
Skelligs unchanging, forever at peace

Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Something to (Ho)sho for it

Lavender Fields in the window of Bells Chemist, Bancroft, HItchin
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Halfway through the year - how did that happen?  I thought I'd had a quiet six months, with little time to paint, yet I already have enough paintings, along with my floral photo canvases, to stage a reasonable exhibition at Open Studios in September.   Although I haven't been able to take advantage of all the exhibition opportunities which came my way, I have managed to do Art on the Common.  What's more, two of my paintings (Lavender Fields and Paula's Pansy) are currently being displayed in shop windows in Hitchin as part of the Hitchin Art Trail, during the month of the Hitchin Festival.  And a print of Swan is one of the lots at an auction this Friday to raise money for a Da Vinci scanner at Stevenage Hospital.

Paula's Pansy in the window of Rubarb, Churchyard, Hitchin
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010


And last weekend I produced some more reduction linocut prints, this time using Japanese Hosho paper. The ink clings to it like a baby to its mother. I'm still grappling with the colours (remembering too late that I'd intended to mix a pale blue for the background) and the registration is slightly off while I learn to handle this new paper. But on the whole I'm pleased with my progress. Let's hope the next six months is as productive!

red and yellow tulip print

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Gales, Gazebos & a Game of Two Halves

all set up on Saturday morning
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010


Last weekend thirty local artists erected their gazebos on Harpenden Common for the annual Art on the Common fundraiser. As a first-timer I was nervous: would we be ready in time? could we strike our exhibition on the Saturday evening and put it up again on the Sunday morning? would we get any visitors? it never occured to me that in the middle of June the main problem would be: could the gazebos withstand the gusty winds and make it through to the end of the day?

 

we had cards, paintings and photos on display
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Things started well enough; it was breezy but between us my fellow exhibitor S and partner J and I got the gazebo up and the side panels on. Luckily J is a six-footer - oh, to be a few inches taller!! S had already thought about how we should organise the display and before long we had a good mix of paintings, prints, photos and cards out on tables, and our browsers out front.  J went off and the two of us settled down, well wrapped up in our fleeces. It was so chilly I began to wish I'd worn gloves. The Art show was running alongside the Harpenden Common Discovery Day, so every now and then some volunteers came by offering tea to the stallholders - we were pathetically grateful - and one or two of the visiting public also bought a cuppa! because, in True Brit fashion, people had come out to look. Some were on their way to, or back from, the Discovery Day, and many stopped to browse and chat. We had quite a lot of interest, and sold the odd card or two. But nobody was lingering long enough to make that decision to buy something larger.

visitors braved the cold to talk to the artists
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

We were lucky. The jeweller next to us had set up her display in a gazebo with no side panels at all; the stiffening breeze knocked over some of her stands and she broke four pieces. Less than two hours after opening, she was taking everything down; her helpers had left for the day and a passing gent took down her gazebo for her. A large gust of wind caught us unawares and two of my paintings went flying; luckily the only damage was to one of the frames.  I couldn't sort it out - I was outside hanging on to the back of the tent to stop it billowing in.  My browser had also gone crashing and a visitor retrieved it for me - S was hanging onto the gazebo frame - our knight in shining armour also re-attached the roof cover to the frame for us.   J returned with lunch and we pegged down what bits of the gazebo we could, then ate watching the passers by, some pausing to take a look, others just rushing home. Most people were dressed for the arctic, but across the way a fellow artist was shivering in her summer skirt and leggings, still gamely demo-ing her beautiful acrylics with a coat thrown round her.

anyone who hadn't wrapped up warm was freezing!
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

After lunch it got worse.  We knew that the leg weights I'd luckily bought would prevent the gazebo from taking off, but the wind was starting to bend the frame of the gazebo on one side. Instead of going home to watch the football, J spent his afternoon holding  the frame straight with one hand and reading a book with the other. I thought we'd set our gazebo up wrongly until I saw the chap in the next one along doing the same . . . all around we could see billowing canvas, and hear the occasional crash and shriek as something fell over. S and I were hanging on to the front of the gazebo, J to the side, all I could think of was how glad I was I'd got third party insurance! Still people came in to take a look . . . a little rain fell and we whipped the browsers inside. It was only 4pm, we were due to stay open until 5pm but all round us others were packing up, so we cut and ran with the rest.

real-live-guy rope.  We replaced him on the Sunday with a piece of string . . .
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

We took longer to set up on Sunday because (a) we were tired out from clinging on to that gazebo and (b) we were determined to secure it firmly against the wind which was still blowing, although not so strongly. I even had a bit of sandpaper with me to sort out that damaged picture frame. Although we were due to open at 11am, potential customers were around by 10 o'clock . . . . the weather was slightly warmer and looking hopeful. More and more visitors started to arrive. Lots of folk who'd thought about coming to see Art on the Common had sensibly decided to wait unti the Sunday. I never did get time to sandpaper that picture frame and S was still trying to finish her lunch at 4pm because people kept talking to her about her pictures. J delivered lunch and managed to get home to spend an afternoon watching the football (we'd replaced him on gazebo bracing duty with a piece of string).

the sun started to peek through on Sunday morning . . .
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

My Dad turned up. Lots of friends came alongto encourage us, and other artists who weren't exhibiting - Mel & Julie from B Gallery, Betty who did Open Studios with us last year, Kim Major-George . . . . Card sales were so brisk I was concerned we might lose track of them and S was thrilled to sell some prints. The wind dropped, the sun came out, my fleece came off and before I knew it I was burning and had to use S's factor 50 (by the next day my nose was so red I looked like a clown). Gosh, it was hot!! Eventually things quietened down enough for me to take a look around the other stalls to see what was on offer and how they'd done their displays. Some stallholders had opted to exhibit with no side panels, some with just a couple and one with just a panel at the back (I did wonder if that was all they had left LOL).  After 5pm we still had visitors as we were trying to take it all down!

blue skies and sunshine at last!
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

By the end of the weekend I was completely exhausted but what a sense of achievement! I'd had some wonderful feedback, learnt a lot, chatted to some lovely people, met the Town Mayor and sold enough bits and bobs to give a respectable amount of commission to Cancer Research. Do it again? oh yes. Bizarrely, I loved every minute LOL.

finally able to abandon our fleeces . . .
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

In the Pink (and other colours)

I decided to spend the Bank Holiday weekend printmaking (thereby neatly avoiding the dilemma of how to start my next London series watercolour, a view of St Paul's Cathedral). I wsas particularly keen to try out my new combined inking glass and linocut registration device - aka an old picture frame taken to pieces. You can see it in the photo below, along with some prints of the first colour in the background, and the design (plus the photo of pink tulips which inspired it) at the front.


















inking up the second colour
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Unfortunately I got so carried away with the success of this contraption - it does work very well - that I lost concentration and missed out one of the cuts. I compensated by adapting the design, but it wasn't how it should have been, and overall I was not happy with the resulting prints. Nevertheless I hung them up to dry - they are perfectly registered, after all! - and vowed to try again soon. I've decided I'm not keen on the colours anyway, and I already have a new colour scheme worked out, plus a couple of modifications to the design!

four 'pink tulips' prints on a makeshift drying rack

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Undaunted, I spent this morning preparing the bases for some monoprints. The idea was to experiment with how various colours interact on one another, particularly the new metallic inks I bought recently - gold, silver and copper. I decided to try out some card blanks, too, and to use cartridge paper for the larger prints. I'm still struggling with ink coverage - a lot depends on the paper, and how well you hand burnish the print. Probably I'm too impatient and give up too soon! I have started using an old wooden spoon, though, which is producing reasonable results.















bases for two-tone monoprint cards and A4 monoprints

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

After lunch I gathered three leaves from the acer tree which grows in a pot by the back door (I'd been careful to mention to the tree several days ago that I would need three of its leaves, so it didn't get a nasty shock when I retrieved them). For the rest of the afternoon these three leaves went through sheer torture as I tried out every colour combination which took my fancy. By 6pm I was the exhausted but triumphant creator of twenty two items:

simple leaf cards in gold, silver and copper inks
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

It was interesting to see which combinations worked best. The metallic inks dry far more quickly than the others, spread more thinly, and don't seem to lift off when overprinted. So the way forward might well be metallic bases with a coloured design on the top. Here are some two-tone cards:

two-tone cards, mainly metallics on ordinary inks
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

And finally, six monoprints. Some of which might even be saleable!

monoprints - metallics on ordinary inks
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

The Wonderful Wobbly Bridge

"When a man is tired of London he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford" - Samuel Johnson, 1777














Blustery Day, Millenium Bridge
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

The River Thames is the beating heart of London. I cross it twice a day on my way to and from the office, glorying in the open skies and wide vistas, whatever the weather. It's a real tonic after the cramped streets and stuffy trains.

Usually I cross the river at the Millenium Bridge. Starting life as a wobbly white elephant, it has become one of the main attractions in the capital. Linking St Paul's to the North with the Tate Modern on the South Bank, it is rarely without visitors from all over the world. For us commuters this can be a mixed blessing; but it's worth fighting one's way through the crowds for those wonderful moments when a tourist gasps out loud with admiration as they grab their camera. I swell with pride at such times; this is "my" city - yes, the one I take for granted on a daily basis LOL.

The bridge is a popular location for photographers & film crews, buskers & beggars; joggers run along it, and in the wet children slide on it. And it was on a wet day that I had that "eureka" moment so essential if I'm going to make a painting; a host of umbrellas bobbing, the wind tugging, rain lashing, and the Tate Modern looming up ahead, lights glowing in the gloom. The Millenium Bridge doesn't wobble any more. It's lovely in the sunshine. And it's wonderful in the rain!

Fast & Loose

Two Jugs on a Windowsill
© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

As soon as I'd finished Borough Market I had an overwhelming urge to do something in a completely different style. I'd taken a photo earlier in the year of some tulips making a lovely shape in my favourite jug on the kitchen windowsill; the tulips had long since wilted but I could at least recreate the jugs from life and use the photo to recall the flowers.

So - completely different. No initial drawing, just putting colour straight onto the paper. Forget perspective, paint the jugs from life - OK, but the yellow one's a bit small, let's make it much bigger in the picture. Three colours only (alizarin crimson, indian yellow, cobalt blue). Concentrate on the flowers and the jugs and add the background later. Lots and lots of water and free application of paint - splash it about a bit . . . . from start to finish it took and hour and a half - and that included a break for a visit from the gas man and a cup of tea!

On the whole I'm pleased with the finished painting; ironically the least spontaneous part is the flowers which caught my eye in the first place. Painted from a photo, you see. I could probably make a better job of the jugs if I did it over again, but they'd be far less lively!

Underneath the Arches

Borough Market

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

One dull February day I found myself wandering around in the colourful bustle of Borough Market, popular amongst foodies for its vast array of fruit & veg, fish, meat, unusual cheeses and other delights. Nestling under the railway arches at London Bridge station, it's due for some hopefully sympathetic redevelopment as part of the Thameslink Project. I've been meaning to paint it for some time, so I took a series of reference shots with the camera on my new mobile phone.

Initially I stuck a dozen photos on my ideas board, hoping to capture the hustle & bustle, the colour, the soaring Victorian cast iron work, and the variety of goods on offer. I realised fairly quickly that a conventional painting Would Not Do, but the snap of a girl clutching a bouquet of white roses and lilies (and a can of coke, which has become a paper cup in the painting) gave me something to anchor eight or so of the other images to.

The result is Borough Market (original title, eh?). 48 cm x 36 cm, it took me eight intense two-hour sessions over four weekends to complete, using a no. 6 brush and plenty of Viridian Green, Raw Sienna, Alizarin Crimson and French Ultramarine. The whole experience has been absorbing, exhausting, and ultimately tremendously rewarding!

a touch of Spring

white hyacinths

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Back in the cold, dark days of January I bought myself a pot of white hyacinths; the gorgeous flowers and wonderful scent hinting at the springtime to come. They looked so lovely that I got out the camera; and I was so encouraged by the outcome of this impromptu photo session that I wasted no opportunity to capture the beauty of every bowl or vase of spring flowers that entered the house.

red tulips

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

These were the first photos I'd ever taken which set out to be "arty" from the beginning; I played about with some soft focus effects and deliberately concentrated on close-ups to bring out the vibrant colour and delicate features of each bloom.

yellow daffodils

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

The result is a small selection of colourful and evocative flower photos which I'm hoping to exhibit at this year's Herts Open Studios in September. Meanwhile they are now available as canvas prints at the marbretherese art and photo pro gallery on Photobox.

pink tulips

© Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Of course, now I've been bitten by the bug, I want to do more; some are already in the pipeline. Not just flowers, either; I've a few ideas which may (or may not) come to fruition later in the year. We shall see!

Trial & Error

Toward the end of last year I went on a printmaking course at the Eagle Gallery in Bedford (you can read about it here), which inspired me to have a go myself. I started out with a Christmas card design linocut (Christmas being very much on my mind at that point) and had great fun cutting a little Christmas tree and attempting to print it up:


















Tree © Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

I quickly realised my first mistake: unless you are using a press, a paper with a rough surface is not a good idea. It took ages to produce even this result, and my hands felt as though they had been cut to pieces. I painted the red in afterwards but it still looked shabby - I'd coated the lino with emulsion first (to show up the design) but neglected to sandpaper the surface, so the ink was never going to take properly. But I'd Made a Start.

Fired with enthusiasm and virtually no knowledge I decided to attempt a reduction linocut, where you cut away the white areas first, print, and then cut away the next colour and print, and so on. I wasn't completely mad, though - I was still only using my two colours LOL. I didn't bother with proper registration, either, I just wanted to see what would happen (after all, this was my experiment and nobody else's!). I'd got hold of a couple of books on printmaking by now and using one of their tips I added a tiny amount of washing up liquid to the ink. And I used a smoother paper this time. Which yielded the following result:

Lily © Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010


Now, I'd be the first to admit that this is far, far from perfect - it's way out of register, for a start. But I loved it! the depth of colour, the zen quality of the simple design; I knew then that reduction linocuts are the way forward for me no matter how long it takes to perfect my skills. I'd sorted out what paper to use; I knew which way to go; now I had to try something a little larger than these 2 inch squares.

For my third experiment I went up to an A5 lino block. I'd found an excellent online tutorial here which helped me to set up my registration and organise my design. I abandoned the emulsion idea and used a waterproof pen to mark it up. When I began to print it I realised I'd chosen to work with four colours - which was at least one too many, but so what? I was Having a Go:

Skelligs I © Teresa Kirkpatrick 2010

Ok, this one isn't perfect either. It's one of five hand pulled prints, none of which are great but in terms of registration and design are getting there. The colours are far too strong, so my next lesson is to Learn My Inks (and I need to Cut Deeper, and work at A4 size, because I'm cramping myself).

I'm certainly not there yet, and because of the time and effort involved (and the need to do painting in my free time as well!) I won't be there for quite a while. But watch this space - I'll keep you posted!!