Willow and Reeds: pastel 12″ x 9″

Willow and Reeds: pastel, 12″ x 9″

The recent hot weather may be fun for some people but I find it saps my energy. At such times the will to put pastel to paper (or anything else) is directed towards guzzling lots of water and trying to avoid sunstroke. I managed to settle this morning (Tuesday) into setting up the pastel-box with a few ideas mapped-out for subjects; but just couldn’t rustle up enthusiasm for what I had selected. Although I could partially see and understand what I wanted to get out of the subjects, they just would not gel into anything substantial.

In the end I returned to images that I had gathered many months ago, close by to a previous blog entry here, “Autumn Lake”. The willow-tree in this painting stood alone, framed at the base by waving grasses and at the sides and top by deep greeny-blue evergreen trees. It was catching late afternoon sunlight nicely on one side and had created the kind of thing I regularly look for when doing pastels; lots of contrast.

This piece was done on a sheet of discarded black Colorfix paper…..discarded because it had been used for an art-class session one afternoon, working on a subject that….basically….didn’t work out. I never throw these sheets away but put them aside in a carrier bag, because the old pastel can be brushed over and off with a stiff brush. This leaves a general dusty haze which is sometimes more attractive than the stark black of the paper. In this instance I had used a brownish-red pastel for the aforementioned artclass subject; remnants of it are still visible in the painting, although I don’t think you’ll see the colour at this web resolution.

A range of dark greens and blues from Unison’s dark jewel pastels was used for the background, working in some mid green-blue and rusty orange towards the right hand side. The willow tree was mapped out with the side of a deep green-grey pastel plus a yellow-green from Daler-Rowney. Once the shape of the tree was in place I then spent time working out the various shades of green-grey and yellow-green that I would need, to try and give it a volume. Highlights were added finally. The grasses and reeds were started off with hard Inscribe pastels and light ochres added on top; but partway through this I felt that the sharp vertical lines were dominating the tree, so I used my fingers to “paint” through the soft pastel dust and knock it all back a bit to a softer focus.

In the dark background, a single tree is visible, with delicate branches; this was marked in with the edge of a hard pastel, then some rusty red-orange scumbled on top; but restrained, to allow the willow tree to remain the important subject.

Three and a half hours from start to finish. If it had not been for a headache that came on during my lunch-break, I would have been starting a second picture; so, heeding the thought that one good work is probably enough for one day, I stopped and tidied up. I think this is one of the nicest trees I’ve done for a while, so I was pleased with the morning’s work.

Water pump, Somerset Levels: pastel 14″ x 11″

Water Pump, Somerset

I’ve been extremely busy on non-art activities for the past week or so, with little time for painting other than for contemplating what to draw next.

Started last Thursday and finished today; a small corner of the vast Somerset Levels, showing a water-pump powered by the wind. This one is close by a large RSPB reserve, home to millions of starlings during the winter months. The windmill itself was actually a rather discreet item in the landscape; I didn’t notice it for several seconds when I first photographed the area.

Painting any delicate mechanical object using wide pastel sticks is a bit of a challenge, so I am sorry if any engineering visitors find the angles to be wrong and the blades the wrong shape. I can only aim for an impression of the item, rather than rivet-counter detail.

The pastel was worked on a sheet of Bockingford  140lb watercolour paper which had previously been painted with a deep green acrylic paint, then surfaced with Art Spectrum’s Colorfix clear pastel primer.  Bockingford paper has a nice tooth on it already, but the primer added a little extra. I used a medium-dark red hard Inscribe pastel to rub over the green surface, providing a dusting of complementary colour to work against. The background trees were put in with scribbles of  hard Inscribe blue-violet and dark grey pastels, adding a layer of deep green from Unison’s dark-jewel pastel range. Lighter, cooler greens were worked over the top. “Sky-holes” were added with very pale blue pastel.

Warmer greens and grey-greens were used for the windblown foreground bushes, over a base of dark purple and deep grey with a further touch of middle-red (these were muted down somewhat during the pastelling process). Finally the water pump was marked in. This went through several stages; first being drawn in with pastel pencil, then having light and dark areas added. Partway through, I became annoyed with the way things were going and stroked over the blades with a watercolour brush dampened with rubbing alcohol (iso-propyl). This pushed the dusty surface into a more matte appearance, allowing me to gently stroke more pastel on top when dry.

Eventually I obtained a more satisfactory 3D appearance and called it quits after about 2 and a half hours’ work. I was particularly pleased with the dark background tree with its skyholes, and also the front breezy bushes.

Somerset Pastures: pastel 14″ x 11″

Somerset Pastures

After a hectic start to the week, I finally managed on Thursday to settle down to a new pastel picture.  I have moved from the exposed areas of the Mendips (in the last post) to the Somerset Levels in this latest.

These large regions of flat land are open to the wind and weather coming in from the coast, some miles distant. In bad weather, flooding is commonplace. Willow trees are everwhere. Today’s picture is a typical view; a field with a boundary of willows plus some elder and a tangle of thin shrubby trees. In the foreground, a contented resident.

The picture was done on black Colorfix paper and I continued with my new method of scribbling in hard pastels to begin the image. I used a mix of rusty-red and ultramarine pastels to start the sky off, adding warm grey hatched lines on top, before dusting over lightly with a paper towel.

The trees were massed in with a range of hard pastels, from blue-violet and dark green for the distant shape, followed by rusty-orange and yellow ochres for the twiggy trees. The lefthand tree was begun with a deep green-grey, building up to very pale blue-green and grey colours for the sunlit leaves. The field was drawn by skimming a hard mid-green pastel over the tooth of the paper, then laying over several more greens and a yellow-green.

The cow was probably the most challenging item. I drew her in with blue and black pastel to start with, but trying to do the legs with a chunky pastel proved too much. Having got a reasonable “cow grazing” shape, I called up the finer-pointed pastel pencils and, using a white plus one or two medium greys, managed to create the back legs and the front one plus a bit of shading here and there.

Finally, the sky was left as a simple dark grey-blue; typically encountered on windy-days-threatening-rain in this area; and it acts as a foil for the brightly lit tree tops.

I have a little fiddling left to do, I need a bit more shadow behind the cow but apart from that, it is done, as far as I wish it to be.

Next post might be a while; I’m very busy next week with probably only one spare day to paint/draw, so will have to see how things pan out.

“Weathered Wall”; pastel 15″ x 12″

“Weathered Wall”: pastel 15″ x 12″

I’m not into the oils at present. I have these inner needs to change medium every so often and I’m back on the pastel box right now. Today’s picture is not a small one as far as I’m concerned, but by the general term “small art” it is close enough. Some groups class anything that has a dimension of 14 inches or less as small format, so I’m not going to grumble.

It is an old stone wall perched high up on a local Somerset hill; exposed to weather direct from the coast. I photographed it a year or so back and had made a particular note that it might work out well as a painting. So the idea has been brewing gently in the back of the mind.

I took a different approach with this pastel. Instead of my usual choice of Colorfix or PastelMat, I went for a grey sheet of Ingres paper. It’s not one that I use often because it doesn’t hold a lot of pastel; there isn’t enough tooth. For this picture, I wanted to create a different starting-method.

Instead of laying down the dusty particles from a medium-soft pastel, I used harder square ones to hatch lots of lines. Having drawn in the general outlines for horizon, tree and stone wall, I began with hatched lines of mauve, blue and purple-pink. These were for the storm clouds. Once these were in, I went for some paler blue hard pastels plus a soft pale ochre-orange and put in the lighter sections of the sky, down to the horizon (which is tucked away in the mist behind the wire netting).

They say you should never rub pastels; but by lightly blending the hatched lines with a finger, I was able to obtain enough solidity for the cloud mass, while still retaining the lines in a softer format. From here I went on to draw in the tree, which was a typical gnarly shrubby kind of thing often found accompanying stone walls. Harder pastels were ideal for this linear subject, with softer pastel added on top later.

Inscribe square pastels

The wall was more challenging, since I did not want to include every stone but needed to make it look as solid as possible. I tend to work intuitively on things like this, meaning that it is difficult to describe precisely what I did to get the end result. The stone wall was dry-built, with large gaps, and the stones ranging from grubby green-grey to greeny-ochre. I drew in the dark gaps first with a hard pastel and then—moving to the softer ones— added various colours to try and create the 3D effect of large stones. Fortunately I have a decent collection of greeny-greys from light to dark, also yellow-greens and grey-browns.

The latter stages fell into place easily, with hard pastels laying down the ground for the grasses, followed by softer ones on top for extra density and colour depth.

In essence, my starting method was a loose coloured drawing, using hatched lines and hard pastels. It gave me the base for working steadily towards the finished product without drowning in a pile of coloured dust. It also helped me to free up from my usual over-considered approach

The picture is now waiting for me to get it a mount (mat). I haven’t sprayed it with any fixative, bar the early hatched layers; but may mount it on another board, using glue-paste. This tends to seep through the paper and hold the pastel particles in place.  I got the method from an old pastel-book written by Ernest Savage; I also tried it out some years back on another pastel and it worked absolutely fine. If it was good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.

Two Lochs: oil, 6″ x 4″

"Two Lochs": oil on mdf board, 6" x 4"

Take the cable-car up the slopes of Aonach Mor in Scotland (part of the Ben Nevis range) and you will catch sight of this view of two bodies of water….Loch Linnhe and Loch Eil (Loch Eil is the distant one).

I am not a fan of walking on steep hills and mountains, especially going upwards (very trying on the knees)…but the cable-car is worth taking just for the ride, even if you spend the rest of your time sat in the restaurant or perched on the surrounding rocks looking at the view.

On the day I went, it was rather dull and gloomy, with threatening rain (which is not unusual, since Fort William is close by, reputedly the wettest place in Britain). I managed a small charcoal sketch and a quick photo before the grey curtain swept across and obliterated the lot. A forced stay in the  restaurant eventually ended when the sun peeped out and allowed us to explore the immediate surroundings. We chose not to go much further because the weather forecast was bad, and with little experience of mountain-walking it wasn’t wise anyway.

Some while later, I managed to work this small painting from my scruffy drawing and a yawningly boring washed-out photo; at least it did capture the mood of the day in equally sombre tones.

Sunrise: oil, 8″ x 8″

Sunrise: oil on canvasboard, 8" x 8"

I’m afraid that I have had to be away from this blog for far longer than intended. I haven’t done any painting at all, either, so things are rather lean right now. This may continue for a fair while yet, so regrettably my initial plan to post something each week is going to fall apart.

The little painting showing today isn’t quite complete and it might be sitting on the shelf for a spell before I can do something with it. However, it’s going along ok.

Colourful skies tend to be associated with sunsets but there are numerous occasions when the morning can provide an equally competitive show. My original photo was taken at somewhere between 5am and 6am and had balloons floating around it. I chose to leave them out on this occasion and just aim for the sunlight. Some digging-into of the memory-bank has also been needed here, to try and recapture what I was feeling and thinking about at the time.

I hope it won’t be too long before I can post something new, but I have a lot of other pressures on me at the moment that are taking up virtually all my day-time. It is something that will just have to be ridden out.

Green Summer: oil, 7″ x 5″

"Green Summer": oil on canvasboard, 7" x 5"

After today’s post, I’m having to take time out for other non-art issues, so will be a little unproductive for a while. I’d hope to make another post again around mid-April.

In the middle of the year, the Somerset Levels usually buzz with flies, bees and mosquitoes;  soaring on warm breezes and vanishing into the shimmering heat. The network of rhynes contains a vast array of wildlife, either swimming on the water or threaded amongst the dense growth on steep banks.

This small painting could be anywhere in that region, though it was actually based on a view about six miles outside Bridgwater. Steeply-sloped banks with high grasses, meadow flowers, swans drifting in the distance; willow-trees parked everywhere. And the landscape virtually flat.  This view looks along the length of a rhyne, typically totally straight and pointing directly into the far distance. Very green, very warm day.

Some Thoughts on Pastels

4-tray pastelbox

I was introduced to pastels in the late 1980′s by a relative. Up till then I had been using just oils for my pictures, but was interested in seeing what else I could do. Pastels allowed a bit of a cross between painting and drawing. Over the years I’ve put together a box of colours that goes regularly with me to my art-group meetings. This four-tray storage box is nice and compact and holds lots of sticks. It has also been with me on outdoor group meetings.

When I started, my early purchases were Rowney pastels (and I still do use them). In those days, the sticks were smaller in diameter, and quite frankly I found this size easier to use. Today the sticks have widened and are chunkier. I was fortunate recently to be on the receiving end of an art-storage box of pastels that were no longer wanted….when I opened it, I found numerous original-sized Rowneys, so that rather made my day.

The next pastel that was making headlines was Unison; and despite the fact that they are chunky, I have adapted myself  to them simply because the colour range is delightful. They are a bit of a pig to break in half, though.  When working relatively small, I don’t often really want a whole-length stick.

Over the years a few other brands have crept into the box as well, but the two mentioned above make up the majority of what I have. I also have a box of Inscribe hard square pastels, a full set of Derwent pastel pencils plus a small box of grey-tone hard squares. The problem with any form of pastel is that it is rather addictive and one’s hands generally have to be kept chained in the pockets while going around an art-shop. So much to choose….so little money.

The prime upside of pastel is that you don’t have to mix colours, like paint, to get what you want….that is, in general. It is perfectly possible to blend two or more colours directly on the picture. Of course, pastellists often complain that despite having hundreds of colour-sticks, there is always the day when they need a particular shade of green or purple and find that they haven’t got it. (guilty as charged).

Really dark colours have often posed problems in pastel, because the tendency to use black or combine it with other colours was often unsatisfactory. Unison developed their dark jewel range of colours, which I bought and have found very useful, especially some of the really dark greens.

Pastel Pencil on green Canford card: 11" x 9"

When I started pastels, I do not recall the existence of toothy paper, such as we have today with makes such as Art Spectrum Colorfix, for example. I think those in the know were mixing ground pumice with gesso, or something like that and preparing their own sheets. The rest of us amateur mortals were on Ingres or Canson paper…..nothing wrong with that, of course, as these papers have their own qualities…. but when the toothy paper started to make an appearance, it meant that multi-layering of pastel was a lot easier. It also meant a lot less fixing and spraying. Before I get shot, I can say I still use Ingres paper for lots of my drawing and exploratory-work, but I just prefer the toothy paper these days. I use Colorfix and also PastelMat.

I have several pots of Art Spectrum primer, that allow almost any surface to be primed ready for pastel. I especially like the clear primer because you can paint it over any coloured surface. I have painted watercolour paper with various shades of acrylic paint, let it dry and then put clear primer over it. So it means if you want a special colour background paper but it’s not available commercially, then you can just do your own.

Pastel pencils I must admit I don’t use so often, but I have found them good for floral work. Being a linear tool, one can get them to make the finest of marks (with a bit of concentration) and also blending. The daffodil picture further up was done on very dark green Canford card that had been coated with some clear pastel primer. It does wear the pencil points down but proves very interesting to work on.

Soft pastel on Ingres paper (large sheet)

That’s probably enough for one blog post…..time to get moving.

In Progress: “Local Walk”: pastel, 12″ x 9″

"Local Walk": pastel, 12" x 9"

I am cheating a little here on my usual size maximum, since this piece is working out at around 12″ x 9″.  This rough track is at the top of fields just behind my home. It passes through a group of rather gnarly, ivy-covered trees before heading out across the open grass and back towards home.

On this occasion it had also been raining, leaving small puddles glinting in the muddy ruts. Tractors are very efficient at creating deep paddling-pools,  demanding considerable determination on the part of the stroller to overcome the squelch and move on to more comfortable pastures. This is often achieved without incident, but overbalancing and skidding is part of the game.

I could not paint this on the spot since the weather was changeable and rain isn’t too kind to pastel. I photographed the scene and later, at home, explored the layout with charcoal on cartridge paper. The final picture is on a light-red sheet of PastelMat, the colour of which was very helpful for the rutted track.

These types of scenes are usually a bit on the “dull brown and green” spectrum; but I was interested in the sky and clouds peeping through the branches; plus the distant view from the end of the track, which is actually towards the edge of the city, indicated by a few white dots for distant buildings.

I haven’t quite completed it; I am fiddling somewhat with the upper left but I am happy with most of the remainder.

A Few Days’ Breather

The past three days have been physically very tiring, helping family dig holes in the garden and moving an apple tree. You would not believe that the moving of such a small tree would require so much soil and clay to be shifted. And to make matters worse, it rained heavily, providing us with a clay-based skating rink.

So at present I’ve not had the energy to prepare a new post for this blog; and I’m a bit behind with new paintings. However, I hope to have something posted here by the end of this week. In the meantime, new visitors might care to explore my earlier posts for images.