A few words about illustration

I usually use this blog to post pictures of my latest oil paintings, with a few words about how they came into being but as some of you will know, when I am not painting landscapes, I produce a regular blog about the lives of six cartoon cows. Each of those blogs is accompanied by its own illustration, so I thought it might be nice to give you a little insight as to the process that I go through to produce a cow picture. For those of you for whom the cows are something new, you can find them via the link in 'about my work' in the sidebar, or click here: cowislandblogspot.blogspot.com . The above picture was drawn to accompany the blog 'Uncanny!' which was published on Friday 6th November 2009.

Composition.

The focus of this blog post was Captain Bill and Cyril's first appearance disguised as Norman, who is an elephant. Since they are the most important element, they are placed furthest forward so as to dominate the image. Their appearance is deliberately comic and they were drawn to look enough like an elephant so that people would recognise that but at the same time it needed to be very clear that they have failed miserably. Geraldine the penguin was given a sign to hold up, to further emphasise their failure. Next in terms of the blog's dialogue come Norma and Bertha, so they are placed close to Captain Bill and Cyril. Behind them is Annie; it was trailed in the previous day's blog that Annie can't keep away from some glue that was being used. This prepared the reader for the possibility of a comic outcome and here, she is shown having glued herself to a tree. To help convey the situation more clearly, her legs are shown and are kept clear of Norma's hat; a glue brush was also added. Note that her centre of gravity is towards the tree and works as an added suggestion of the glue's stickiness. Finally, Norman himself was placed in the background of the picture.

Tone.

...or 'shading' if you like! I use a watered down black ink and have always placed the light source at the top right of the picture. This gives the illustrations a degree of consistency and because I am left handed, it is easier for me to shade the left side of an object. With this illustration its main use is to give extra definition to Captain Bill and Cyril's costume and make it appear to hang off of them.

Colour.

My basic rule is always work from the known: the cows all have their own colour patches so I put those in first. Then, Norman's skin colour was added and after that, the sky, trees (it is Autumn remember) and grass (often wetter and therefore darker in Autumn) were coloured. There is slightly more blue in the sky than normal because several important elements push into it: Geraldine's sign, Annie and her glue brush; and as these contain a lot of white, we need blue sky around them to bring them forward. Finally, the arrow on Geraldine's sign was coloured red; an arrow is supposed to get our attention and it helps to keep you focused on the foreground.

Well there we are; I hope it's been worth the read! Thank you.

Another Autumn landscape

Just a field behind a road; there is a public footpath which runs along the side of it. When I first walked by it in the Summer, it didn't have much appeal but over the passing months, I began to see a painting within it. The Autumn colours helped to add interest and there are a few cattle as well...

20 x 16 inches oil on canvas

Painting Autumn

You know what it's like: you keep walking past something and gradually it worms it's way into your head. Like Alice, you expect to find a note on it that says 'paint me'; so that's what happened with this work. I don't suppose it will surprise anyone if I say that it's near the river! It's a hedgerow along Remenham Lane - the sort of thing that yields blackberries and, very close to this bit, sloes.

I took a couple of pictures of it and then retired to the flat to have a think. There seemed to be plenty of colour in it and that gave me the possibility of perhaps approaching it in a slightly different fashion from how I would usually paint. It ended up being very different! Somewhere during the painting of it I found that I had started applying some of the colour unmixed and straight from the tube. For me, this a bold step. I don't think it represents a great revolution but at the same time, I'm working on another picture which looks far more like my usual output. I see no reason not to tailor my approach picture by picture but I think I learned from the experience and it was fun! The first couple of piccies are close-ups; the final one is the finished picture.

Two small paintings

What do you do when it all goes wrong? It's a tricky one because there is no right answer. Today I found myself in just such a position and for a while I wasn't very happy with the world.

I left the flat just after 9am and walked my easel through town and back to where I had had my first painting adventure a couple of weeks ago. Since last there, I'd had a look at a local map and it is shown as an old deer park (insert joke of your choice). I had it in mind to paint a rather nice oak tree - it has had a few knocks and has a certain character; it was also on a raised bank which had very little grass growing on it and the bare earth gave a nice contrast to the overall greenness.

I started work on my 10 x 8 inch canvas and managed to swiftly pass through all the regular stages of painting. I could paint; I could fix the problem; I could not fix the problem; I wondered why I ever bothered picking up a brush?! So after an hour or so I hated it! I had good reason; it was a poor little thing, without life and so what to do?

Sometimes it is best to walk away... but I decided not to - partly out of the fear of having to go back through town so soon after leaving it because, let's be honest, everybody who lives here watches my every move! Instead I took out the trusty palette knife and took off all the paint that I'd put on. For those who don't paint with oils I have to tell you that this does not destroy the image; it just blurs it a bit but allows for fresh paint to be placed over the top. I set to work for a second time and within ten minutes, all was well. The picture started to come together and I was happy! By 12.30 it was as finished as I wanted it to be and so a swift break for lunch (insert chocolate bar of your choice) was taken...

I moved about 100 metres to find the second view. An easier subject for me as it was more of an open landscape. I put it together rather rapidly and it's not bad; so nice to have the Autumn colours making all the trees look so different. Both pictures will require a little extra work but not much. So the day ended on a positive note and I was back home by 3pm...

Painting 'en plein air' part 3

Once more into my breeches dear friends! Another nice sunny day, so off I went... Today would be 'painting in public' day because I had decided to go down to Hambleden Lock. It's about two and a half miles downstream and usually with a steady flow of traffic passing through it. My journey there is always enjoyable because I'm required to do nothing more than walk along the side of the river. So even carrying all of the painting things it's not a chore.

It's not much of an exaggeration to suggest that you could set the easel up in any direction and find a suitable subject at Hambleden Lock but I felt that it was important to keep things simple, so I chose a view just beyond the lock itself. The painting went well enough; the morning light restricting the colour range. For the first hour or so I used only white, sap green and a couple of blues. Then, as the sun rose, the scene rapidly changed and I found that I was increasingly painting an image that no longer existed! By 10.30am, the picture was finished as far as I wanted, so I broke for a Mars bar only to find it had been sitting in the sun and was partially melted. Despite licking the wrapper I must report that some chocolate was lost!

So what to do for the second picture? Well the scene had changed and moving the easel is a pain, so I stayed where I was. Looking back I should have changed or taken a longer break because I rapidly slipped into painting on autopilot. I literally woke up after half an hour without any real memory of what I'd been doing. It's an easy enough thing to do but doesn't make for good practice. Because of the change in light a greater range of colours was called for: Naples yellow and a hint of red. The picture's not bad - it'll have a finish back home. I find I'm becoming increasingly aware of how you could pass a lifetime just painting the same view again and again; the light changes so rapidly and if you throw the seasons into the mix, there is endless variation.

By 12.30pm I'd done enough for the day. I packed up and started the walk back. I shall say a little about the walk because it was as near perfect as you might wish: warm, with a gentle breeze; the sun low enough to cast respectable shadows; the light was wonderful - everything was a painting!

And then the Thames!

When I was a child it was almost dead as it passed through London. Pollution had choked it and little lived in it. But today - well, upstream I grant you - I could see clear water down to at least 3 feet. I can't name the many different plants that are growing in it but they're there and in and around them are fish! I've seen the tiny fry before but today larger fish of 4 -5 inches and in their hundreds. My guess is they're trout... butI could be wrong!

Thank you!

Painting 'en plein air' part 2

So, here we go again! Off for more painting in the great outdoors! I decided for my second trip out to go to my beloved river Thames. Going downstream from Henley, there are public footpaths on both sides of the river but one side is far more heavily used than the other. I took the quiet side. My destination was a series of large, very low lying meadows, which are sometimes used for grazing sheep or cattle. One field in particular had always suggested itself; it contained several dead trees, their trunks stripped of bark - they would stand out, almost white against the green of the living trees.

I collected my things together and off I went.

The trees had been cut down!

Not only that but the field had been recently mown and now looked a million other fields.

I decided to stay!

It started raining!

I shouldn't have been surprised; the signs had been there. The forecast was for good weather and I had set off in strong sunshine only wearing a shirt. I was in England!

I decided to stay!

The painting went OK. There were sheep, which always add something and there were still some stacked tree trunks in the middle of the field.

It rained some more and I started to get cold!

I had been wise enough to place myself under a few trees in the corner of the field, so I was under some cover. The sheep realised this and began to move closer... Would they try to claim the trees for their own? Should I embrace one for bodily warmth? What would my father say when confronted with the news 'son found dead clutching sheep'?!

'I'll just get his mother, I'm sure she'd like to have a word with you!'

The rain stopped and on I went. I finished after about two hours - the canvases are only small, 10 x 8 inches - so I packed up and started back. But the day was still young and I had another canvas with me, so I found a view across the river and did a second picture. I include both here for you to see as well as the fully worked up picture from the last blog.

Now what's the forecast for Thursday?

Painting 'en plein air' part 1

I don't paint outside very much. I am, by my own, admission what is generally termed a 'studio artist'. This strikes many people as odd because I paint nothing but landscapes but you see, despite all the years that I've been painting, I still don't have much confidence about it. I can still see all the faults and the idea of people watching me while I actually make them is not very inspiring... so I stay indoors. But then... every now and again, I feel the need to get out there and give it another try.

So over the last few weeks I've acquired all the bits and bobs that I needed to launch myself out into the world. New paints, some small canvases, etc - this put it off by at least two weeks! Then I had to find somewhere; ideally not far away, but quiet... another week or so! But finally, this morning dawned and off I set. I had my easel - nice but heavy, with a drawer into which went the paints, brushes, canvas, end of a toilet roll, double dibber (look it up), bounty bar, mars bar... I think that was all. I slung my little tripod stool thing over one shoulder and a tramping I did go.

I got through town without mishap; found the public footpath and went 'off road' up a hill, through a wood and emerged into a very large open area. I think it must have been formal parkland at some time in the past. It has a lot of reasonable sized oak trees; there are sometimes sheep grazing and down towards one end of it: my target. Two oaks trees with a large rusting oil tank between them - rural but with a touch of human intervention... perfect!

I started painting. It was cool and breezy but pleasant enough and to my relief I got through the first hour without seeing anyone. Somebody eventually passed by with a nod and a 'morning'. Later a dog walker who kept going and then another who stopped for a chat. A small lady, perhaps in her 70's, with a Labrador. I had met her before when out looking for somewhere to paint and she remembered me. She told me that the tank had been put there many years earlier by a pig farmer as there was no water up there at the time. The pigs have long since gone.

And then I was left to myself again. The painting came along rather well I thought. The weather remained coolish and a bit windy but I was enjoying it. Perhaps, I thought, this painting outside lark is not so bad after all. Finally after a couple of hours I'd just about got there. A reasonable little sketch sat before me. Should I do any more? I thought about it... distance was needed. I stepped back... two feet... six feet... ten feet... it actually looked quite good!

And then - from nowhere - a gust of wind! The easel pitched forward and like some ancient catapult, fired it's contents! Paints, brushes, toilet roll end, mars bar - all into the air! A tube of titanium white almost took an eye out! The canvas detached itself from the easel and turned gently once, twice, and then came to rest with a 'flup' into the long grass... butter side down!

I decided it was time to go home.

The canvas survived surprisingly well although a considerable part of the sky remained in the grass and now I have grass in the sky...

Shall I venture out again?

I think I will!

How to paint reflections in water

Not an attempt to write an exhaustive step-by-step post; just a few observations in the hope that it might help. Reflections in water tends to be one of those things that people find tricky, so to begin with, remember that it's all just marks of paint on a flat surface! If it helps, don't even think in terms of object, water, reflection.


A reflection is best painted at the same time as the object that is casting the reflection and certainly in the very early stages, they can be painted almost as a single object. Remember that a reflection (even a very good one) will be more muted in its tonal range and brightness. A reflection must also follow the plane of the water; the more disturbed the water, the more disturbed the reflection. As with all painting, start with your biggest brush and end with your smallest. If it all goes horribly wrong, it's not the end of the world!

And finally, in the name of self promotion, I happen to have a picture in this week's Etsy voter!! So if you have a vote to cast and feel like giving it to me, here is the link - thank you! http://www.etsy.com/voter_list.php?ref=voter&room_id=63

Composition in landscape painting

Now I have to say that this blog was, in part, inspired by a visit to the newly opened exhibition at the National Gallery in London. 'Corot to Monet: a fresh look at landscape from the collection' started on July 8th and runs through to the 20th of September. It's an examination of the development of landscape painting in France from the later part of the 18th through to towards the end of the 19th century. It's free to get in and well worth a look if you're around that part of London. It helps to show that impressionism was, in many respects, just the next step along a gradual line of progression and not the great revolution that it is often portrayed as. But it also got me thinking about something which has annoyed me for a while and that is the subject of basic composition.

There are many, many books available in any large bookshop or art suppliers, that are intended to help those who are learning to paint (that's all of us). Some are better than others and all serve the very useful purpose of allowing the writer to earn a bit of money. When it comes to books on landscape painting, the question of composition soon comes to the fore. Now they nearly all follow the same pattern of suggesting that the canvas be split into 3rds, both vertically and horizontally and that the focal point of the picture is then placed at one of the intersections. It's good advice and helps to simplify things.




My bugbear is that somewhere along the line this 'advice' seems to have become a 'rule' and that to deviate from it is something close to a mortal sin. It was therefore with some pleasure that my tour around the exhibition revealed picture after picture which simply did not conform with this 'rule'. The division between land and sky can be at any point. It is perfectly possible to paint a landscape painting which splits the canvas into 2 equal parts of land and sky, with the focal point in the middle of the canvas. It's not the best idea to try it with your very first painting, but it's there to be done. Corot manages it very nicely with a picture of Avignon, almost to show how easy it can be.

So just to conclude by saying, there's good advice out there to be had, but there are no rules.

Enjoy!

PS As we're all fallible, there's a lovely painting by Corot in the last room which has the most wonderfully wonky water. Made me feel so much better about my own work.

Landscape series painting

Series painting (a group of paintings of the same subject) is undoubtedly most closely associated with the work of Claude Monet. From the late 1880's onwards it became the central theme of his artistic output and he produced many groups of works around different motifs. From the haystacks that lay behind his house at Giverny, through to the front facade of Rouen Cathedral and finally back to the lily ponds of his own garden, he closely observed and recorded the effects of the constantly changing light that fell upon his chosen subjects.

But series painting is not the exclusive domain of this one great man. His friend and fellow impressionist, Alfred Sisley, explored similar territory with his views of the Church of Notre Dame at Moret in the mid 1890's and Cezanne's continued interest around Mont Sainte Victoire can also be viewed as an exploration of a single theme. Artists less well known to the public have also found fascination in painting around a narrow subject base. The English artist, Sir George Clausen painted his own series of brilliant observed pictures around haystacks in the late 19th and early 20th century.


Now I have to say that I'd never really contemplated the idea of painting in series. This may be in part because I hadn't until recently found a suitable subject. But in January of this year I moved to Henley-On-Thames - a place with no shortage of interest for a landscape painter - and on my walks along the Thames tow path, I gradually found myself taking a liking to a particular stand of trees. They stand some ten metres from the river, just the other side of a small fence, in an area of traditional meadow. Perhaps because of their relative isolation it is easier to pick out the changes that they undergo as the sun moves around them. I eventually settled on two of the trees which, from the angle that I have painted them, makes it almost appear to be a single specimen. I've done 3 pictures so far and expect to expand this over the next couple of months to six and then perhaps nine. I am finding it interesting to paint the same basic scene over and over; the more that I do so, the more able I am to concentrate on the differences that occur and I suspect that the pictures may become more subtle as I go along. My abilities as an artist are limited and this is a new challenge but if I wish to understand and progress I need to push myself in new ways. I've included the three that I've done so far here; as usual please feel free to ask any questions...

Two new landscapes

I thought it might be nice to do my first real blog on here by showing you a couple of my latest paintings. They're both from near to where I live here in Henley-On-Thames. The first is from about two and half miles downstream at Hambleden Lock...

The second is down near to the finishing line of the famous Royal Regatta. The work towards preparing the course and all of the associated marquees, grandstands etc. has been going on for about three months now. This painting is a view across the river and on the left, shows the floating platform which is being used for much of the work...

Both pictures are oil on canvas, sized 20 x 24 inches. Please feel free to ask any questions that you want and I'll be happy to try and answer.

What is Impressionism?

While I get myself ready to officially launch this new blog and open The British Impressionist on Etsy, here is a useful definition of Impressionist art - courtesy of the indispensable Wikipedia:

[Claude Monet - Impression, soleil levant]

Impressionism was a 19th-century art movement that began as a loose association of Paris-based artists exhibiting their art publicly in the 1860s. The name of the movement is derived from the title of a Claude Monet work, Impression, Sunrise (Impression, soleil levant), which provoked the critic Louis Leroy to coin the term in a satiric review published in Le Charivari. Characteristics of Impressionist paintings include visible brush strokes, open composition, emphasis on light in its changing qualities (often accentuating the effects of the passage of time), ordinary subject matter, the inclusion of movement as a crucial element of human perception and experience, and unusual visual angles.