Quinces. Watercolour 6"x9"
This is the last of three paintings that I have finally finished. This one I started in the garden of Peckover House, Wisbeach, East Anglia. I have strengthened the shadows, completed some leaves that were white paper, and emphasised the colour on the stems. The predominant orange/yellow/green palette pulls it all together I think. Just a little bit of “spatter” at the end was put in to break up the smooth graduated washes on the quinces.
Amazingly I passed this church yesterday. It’s 180 miles from where I live. What happened is that I had to go to a funeral in Bath, and our route there passed the turn-off to to this tiny village. Having finished the painting only the day before I thought if there is time after the funeral I would call back and compare the reality with what I had painted. I had a bit of a shock:
To take this photograph I had to stand on the wall on the other side of the lane. To get the perspective shown in the watercolour I would have had to be a further 10 feet in the air. I must have imagined it at the time to get the angle I thought was best. The trees on the left are much bigger than I had remembered them, although I wouldn’t have put them in this large in the painting anyway. Also my original start on site was in winter sunlight.
I guess is serves to reinforce the old dictum, “Don’t let reality get in the way of a good composition.” There is a famous painting by Turner overlooking Florence with the Duomo in the middle distance. When I stood on the same spot some years ago, it was clearly much, much different from the painting, even allowing for changes in vegetation and buildings.
Upper Langridge Church. Watercolour 8"x13"
This is another painting that has been half finished for such a long time. A victim of my style of starting plein air and then not getting round to developing and completing in the studio. This one was started at least a decade ago. What’s ten years though for a building that may be 100 times that age though?
Anyway, the day before yesterday I wetted the whole of the left hand side with clean water, cutting round the grave stones, then stroked into it a strong wash made up up Paynes Gray and Aureolin Yellow. Then as it dried, with a rigger brush, stroked in branches with Paynes Gray and Burnt Sienna. In the foreground I drew in the stones in the wall with a mapping pen loaded with dark paint. Finally some touches of gouache (watercolour plus permanent white) – first to the lighter side of the tree on the right, then some highlights to the stones in the wall, and finally some very pale ocre colour to pick out a few features on the church building itself. I’m satisfied with the result and it’s nice to have finished this painting at long last.
"Top of the run" Courchevel April 08. Watercolour 8"x14"
There are unfinished paintings that silently reproach you from the shelf where you know they are hiding. This is one such painting. Painting in the Alps is diametrically opposite to that other “A”, Afghanistan. One is cold and wet; the other hot and dry. So while in Afghanistan watercolour dries almost instantly on the paper, in the Alps you might freeze to death waiting for a wash to dry. So a different approach is needed. In a nutshell it is…use as little water as possible. In snow of course the paper is helping you – you don’t have to paint anything (well, roughly speaking), and if the sky is cold and grey and trying to snow, you don’t have to paint the sky either. So this is very much the minimalist approach.
It was enought trouble carrying my gear with me, and I was really there to snowboard. However, this view had to be grabbed. People coming off the lift, and shuffling off on the shallow slope towards the beginning of the run was a stoty I wanted to tell. The fact that the skiers were disappearing over a slight ridge, and you can’t see them skiing, added to the sense of expectation.
I got as far as placing the figures in colour, painting the gearing shed on the left, touching in the snow shadows in the foreground, and a plain grey wash over the background ridge. And that is how it sat until last night. So I put in the rocks in the background (which I had noted in pencil at the time), strengthened one or two of the figures, and finally - carefully – spattered some “snow” using a large brush loaded with fairly thick permanent white.
I had in the back of my mind the snow paintings of Sir William Russell Flint, an example shown here painted in 1927. He was fantastic at putting such life into skiers before the days when artists used cameras. He must have had a fantastic visual memory – or be able to afford models to pose in the right positions. I wonder if anyone knows.
On the River Yare near Norwich. Oil 8"x12"
A break from the calendar. Yesterday my wife and I visited our daughter in Norwich, had a pub lunch and a walk. We got back to the car as the light had almost gone. But is this a reason not to paint? Of course not. The girls disappeared into the pub while I got my pochade box out.
As can be seen there was very little light. (I didn’t have a torch). Of course your eyes get used to that, but then the automatic lights in the car park came on putting a horrible orange glow over the whole area. The result was an oil sketch that was far too blue. However I had taken a reference photograph before I began so this morning I re-worked it with much more muted blues and greys. The palette I used on site was ultramarine, white, cold grey and raw sienna. This morning I modified it with Cobalt, white, magenta and a touch of black. Here is how it looked when I finished in the dark lat night:
St. Benets Abbey, The Broads. Watercolour 12"x18"
The inspiration for this painting was a wonderful watercolour by my all-time favourite watercolourist, John Sell Cotman of the Norwich school of painters. He painted this in 1813. Cotman was one of a number of contemporary Romantic artists for whom the “sublime” (I think what we would describe today as “awe-inspiring”) was an emotion that a painting should evoke. He acheived this time and again with dramatic architectural features set in stormy landscapes. When I found this view of the mill I instinctively recognised it as the same point from which Cotman had painted. I have a confession to make however. Although I started the painting on the spot, it was in late spring, and only when I got home did I decide to make it a snow scene. This was my idea of “the sublime.” (By the way, the version of this in the 2010 calendar does not have glass reflections on it. Copies of the calendar are available through me me at noel@noelgarner.com for £10 a copy.)
Hunsett windpump, Watercolour 14"x20"
This painting hangs in my father-in-law’s lounge, so I see it regularly! It’s not a windmill technically. Like most mills in the East Anglian Broads, they were built to pump water off the land and into the drainage cuts. It’s a well-known feature of the Broads, often seen in photographs,but I chose a more unusual viewpoint that shows the sails in profile. I’m always trying to find new angles from which to paint mills. Even though I painted this years ago, I can easily picture the occasion I painted it, and remember the weather. This is the wonder of painting outside – you remember everything so much better.
In my last post I said I don’t like using masking fluid to reserve whites. Well, here on the cap and sails and fantail I needed to preserve the white of the paper. I carefully sketched the outlines of the mill in pencil and then painted around the white areas with initial washes of varied ultramarine blue, following the pencil line. Later, I erased the pencil. I like the mixture of loose, blended, washes and crisp areas with not too many lines of detail.
Baylham watermill. Watercolour and ink. 10"x14"
I painted this in 1993. No photo reference, just worked on site, and in the studio added a little gouache to the windows and penwork to sharpen some edges. I began the painting by applying a light wash of raw sienna and lamp black over the whole paper, and let it completely dry. This is a tip I picked up from a Rowland Hilder book. It means that when you do paint some white (or reserve a little of the white paper for highlights), it looks VERY white.
Looking back I really like this, partly because I know it is a fair representation of the subject – I don’t think a mill enthusiast will argue with the detail – but partly because it takes advantage of what I consider to be some essentials of watercolour. The colour washes are on the whole loosely applied and there is a mixture of sharp edges (on the building) and soft edges (in the foreground). The gouache is there for a purpose – personally I think white gouache is more “honest” than reserving whites with masking fluid. And there is just enough ink to sharpen selected detail. Now that I paint mostly with oils, however, I would find it difficult to paint watercolours in this style again.
Outwood mill. Watercolour 10"x14"
I am soon publishing a calendar for 2010 in conjunction with the mills division of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings here in the UK. They are an amazingly enthusiastic and knowledgeable group of people and have been most supportive of this project. Most of the paintings I have chosen in collaboration with them and I have revisited and tweaked most in one way or another, even though some of them were painted over 20 years ago! I will post them over the next week or so. I hope you find them interesting. If you’d like to buy the calendar please e-mail me at noel@noelgarner.com. They are £10 each including postage (in the UK). The calendar is A4 portrait, full colour, 13 page including the cover, with semi-gloss finish, with hanger. The holidays shown are UK. Final print-run will be decided on 16th November, and orders delivered by 1st December.
I painted the mill shown exactly three years ago, on the way back home from Gatwick airport. Here below, is how much I painted on site. (The colour balance here is a bit too warm). It needed more detail in the tree, and more depth to the shadows:
Up in the mountains we had no communications – no phone, radio, – certainly no TV (thank goodness). So when we returned to Kabul we were shocked (but not our friends who live there) to find out that there had been a massive bomb outside the Indian Embassy, killing and injuring so many people. We had been there only days before in a taxi. However, the art lessons continued at the Garden of Peace and Hope. I never taught the same group twice and it was impossible to know in advance what would be appropriate level to teach at, or what materials they would bring. This was another such group, and was too large really – over 30 aged from 15 to 30. I did a simple demonstration, below, showing a large tree in the garden casting a shadow on the wall behind, and asked them to do the same, but not getting into detail and focussing on the large shapes. By the way it is really hard doing a watercolour demonstration holding your piece of paper up in the air in one hand and painting it with the other at the same time as walking round the group!!
Watercolour demonstration 8"x12"
This is the last of my Afghanistan posts. Tomorrow I move on to my windmill calendar for 2010.
I got up at sunrise to paint, and as I started this lad appeared with his goats. I suppose nothing particularly exciting happens day to day as you take your goats up and down the valley to pasture, so a mad foreigner dabbing paint on a board must be omething of a 
highlight to the week. Anyway, whether it was that, or he thought he might pick up a few tips on brush technique, he quietly squatted down beside me as I developed an oil pochade sketch whilst the sun was still majestic and pink/orange on the far mountains. He was fine company, and eventually pottered off as his goats, on autopilot, disappeared round a bend in the valley. I had another half an hour before being called in for breakfast. This is how far I got:
When I got home to Cambridge I spent another hour or so on the painting. It presented all kinds of problems. Firstly, the far ridge of mountains, though much different in hue from the sky, was almost identical in value, and this needed careful adjustment. Second the foreground rocks were in deep shade, but I still wanted to bring out the detail. Third, the rocks had to be simplified. I wanted detail, but not confusion, and I wanted the tops of the rocks to catch the light from the sunrise. This is the result, and following it how far I got on site.
Oil 9"x12" Sunrise in the foothills of the Hindu Cush
How I left it at breakfast time....
We arrived at our destination tired but pretty exhilerated by the surroundings. A very rocky landscape. Clear sharp light, angular rocks, sparce vegetation, the rattle of the small stream, no birds, few flowers. But my wife, seen here, has found one. We longed to go much further up the valley. But time was against us and we were also advised that further up the mountains were some “bad men.” A reminder of Afghan realities.
5"x8" watercolour
We continues up the trail on foot for several miles until we reached a branch in the valley, which was now steep on either side of the stream. From this point up only the goats and goatherds for company. At the junction however, a hamlet clung to the mountain side and this small building near the bottom appealed to me. What looked like the village elders squatted under a tree and kept an eye on us.
Leaving Istaliff, up into the hills. Watercolour/gouache. 5"x11"
At around midday we left Istaliff village to trek up the valley. The stream is small just now, but the massive rocky bed testifies to a raging torrent when the spring snow melt is in full spate. We were approaching 7000′ at this point, so we took our time.
A couple of boys took an interest in my watercolour sketch so I sketched him for a minute, too. He didn’t seem impressed. In fact, it is true to say that many of the children we met in Afghanistan looked old for their age, and rarely looked happy.
Our walk took about 5 hours. Although apparently remote, there were plenty of people about. Even when we felt alone, a scan of the scene would usually reveal a goatherd, or someone gathering firewood, or a girl pounding out the washing on the smooth river rocks. Life must be tough here, though. Up here the air is gloriously clean and clear. Unlike in Kabul, the leaves of the trees began to take on the hues of proper green.
view from Istaliff. Pencil 5"x112
The next few posts are from two days we spent walking in and near Istaliff, a hill village 50 miles north of Kabul. This is from a vantage point that overlooks the wide valley from which we came. Bagram, the main military airbase, is in the far distance. This whole area was destroyed by the Taliban, and a thriving community was forced into the hills. It is beginning to recover, but there are many ruins, some of which can be seen in the sketch.
I can’t resist including a photo inside a “restaurant” where we had a very oily and vaguely meaty stew with lots of nan bread. It was well suited to a black and white format:
TV Hill, Kabul. Watercolour and pen 8"x12"
I did a pencil sketch in a taxi with colour notes in pencil,and then painted it up as a demonstration to a group of students some days later. I was trying to illustrate another way of painting outdoors. Quick sketch, colour notes, and then work on it from memory as soon as possible. Also I was trying to suggest the pale dust and pollution haze that pervades the city so much of the time. TV hill can be seen in the background of today’s news footage of the tragic killing of UN workers and Afghan nationals in this area.
Pencil 5"x8"
We ate out twice at this restaurant. Not in the city centre; walking distance in fact. The seating is arranged on a low platform on which is a low table just high enough to stretch out your legs underneath. Not only is it comfortable and casual, because you can lean back on the cushions, but it is also works with the local culture. You have taken off your shoes before getting on the platform, and since it would be insulting to show the soles of your feet towards anyone, your feet are neatly concealed by the table. Anyway, while we were waiting for the food I did this sketch in what was a sort of outdoor tent made out of matting. It took away the heat and the glaring sun. Ideal.
Aschiana is a centre for street kids in Kabul. They do an amazing work. In the afternoon I taught a crowd of them – a great session – but in the morning I spent some time with their teachers, most of them I believe are former Aschiana kids. Not for the first time I wanted them to paint from life, and this is the view I chose for them – it was the entrance to the compound from the main street.
I asked them to draw or paint in no more than 4 levels of light or dark. First I did a quick demonstration and then set them to work – the demo is in blue, and some of their work follows on:
A4 watercolour
Pencil 3"x5"
On Friday we met with friends….. I did not photograph, but I could sketch the scene out in the garden, coffee, chat while people came and went…. The layout of the house was typical of Kabul. A high wall all around the site and then one or two dwellings set in it in almost total privacy. Family privacy is very much a cultural more here. It has an interesting effect on the street scene – for town planners like me anyway. The average residential street is simply continuous 10′ walls lining the street interspersed with big secure doors leading into the private areas - which in contrast are often havens of quiet, with lush, cool gardens. This is not so true of the ”informal” housing areas that cloak the hillsides of Kabul which much more struggle to maintain their privacy.
Residential street in Kabul
This scene looks very quiet and peaceful, which it was, being Friday, the Muslim holy day. Sunday used to be quiet in the UK once upon a time didn’t it?
A group of employees from the Nationa Gallery came over for a lesson on portraiture, for which my friend kindly sat. Portraiture is interesting in Afghanistan because not so long ago the Taliban were destroying paintings in the National Gallery that portrayed animals or people – I saw the remnants of many such paintings . So portraiture is both an assertion of independence and an adventure in art.
TheNational gallery has so much potential. Right now there is no banner on the railings proclaiming to the public that they can come in, and you have to pass some pretty stern looking armed guards to get into the precinct. Not exactly welcoming. The result is hardly anyone visits. Still you have to look to the future, and there are plans…. Here are some of the portraits done in conte, pencil and charcoal. My effort is at the top of the post:
The National Gallery
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