Blooming Heather

The heather is coming into bloom on the North Yorkshire Moors above where we live. Bransdale is the start of a large expanse of wild and exposed moorland.  This is the last house, beyond here the trees are sparse and only thrive in the sheltered hollows.

The last time I painted here, in February, on my birthday, the phone rang just as I was putting the sketch onto my board.  I had to rush home to take my poor husband to hospital, so I was hopeful that it wouldn't ring this time.  Happily it remained silent.  It was warm everywhere else, but a little chilly up on the moors.

I am continuing in my quest to apply more paint to the canvas, and consciously to brighten my paintings.  I suffer in the bright light from producing dark paintings.  Hopefully the awareness of that tendency will enable me to adjust my colours to make them brighter when I get home into a less harsh light.

Moorend Bransdale 30x24cms oils on canvas

I took advice from a Facebook colleague about photographing my finished paintings.  I was having issues with light reflecting off the raised parts of the thick paint.
She suggested putting the painting on the floor outside, but not in direct sunlight, then standing facing the direction of the sun, aim the camera straight down, and shoot. The gamma did need adjusting afterwards, but there are no random highlights bouncing of the tops of the paint strokes.  Thanks Annemarie (find her here:  http://www.artannemarie.com )



Post posting note:  I have fiddled endlessly with the foreground patch of heather. 
My issues: not to make it too dark (my nemesis); to give it more colour rather than overmixed mud; to keep the strokes simple and unfussy.  Normally when I add the signature that is a mental stop point for me, but this time I had to keep going. I hope now I have acheived my objective.  Time to move on.....

I

Highland Fling

Jimmy Watts Cottage  Oils on canvas panel 10x8"

I have put my favourite up first, despite it being the last painted of the trip.  Perhaps I was better practised by then, but as often happens it was dashed off in double quick time at the end of a good day.

I have been to the Scottish Highlands for a week with a couple of girlfriends specifically to paint.  No cooking, no housework, nothing else to think about other than where we were going to paint for the day.  And what a lot of choice we had.  We were on the Sound of Sleet, overlooking the Isle of Skye, at a tiny, isolated village called Glenelg.

The weather wasn't brilliant to start with.  You can see how the weather improved through the week by looking at the colour of the skies.

Our first port of call was the much painted castle of Eilleen Donan (pronounced Eelan doe nan)
I had decided on a new approach.  In an effort to brighten up my paintings I would try painting on a white ground, do a simple block in in the base colours then apply thick paint.

Eileen Donan Castle. Oils on Canvas Board 12x10"

This was my first try at this new regime:
My thoughts were that I didnt like working on the white ground, it was hard to eliminate all the specks of white showing through, not so much of an issue when working on  tinted ground.
The thicker paint did make the colours brighter, but the effect of the bright light outside still makes me paint darker than I would like, so I will need to compensate by painting higher key colours.


The next day we drove over the Skye Bridge at Kyle to Isle Ornsay on the Isle of Skye.  We have been here sailing in the past, and anchored up, coming ashore to eat at the restaurant owned by Claire MacDonald, not far from here.

Lighthouse at IsleOrnsay 12x10" Oils on Canvas Board

The little lighthouse on a spit of land stands in front of the mainland, that is the the hills around Glenelg in the distance.  We definitely had better weather on Skye than on the mainland that day.  I started painting with the tide out, but it definitely looked better as it came in, so the tide came in on my painting too.  More practice with thick paint.  I prefer the marks made with a brush than those from a palette knife, but still experimenting.

 This next one was done over a couple of days.  Not long after I started it the heavens opened and i got absolutely drenched, so I went back later, on a better day to finish it off.  Once again the tide was out when I started, but the reflections in the water when the tide was in were irresistible.  This was a smooth board that I had gessoed and textured somwhat.  The paint slides onto it more easily, but it is harder to get a good thickness of paint on. I prefer the grab of canvas.

Being done up - Glenelg. Oils on Board  12x10"

Then we went up the road to Plockton.  Another of our old sailing haunts and probably the most painted village in the Highlands.

Plockton, rising tide.  Oils on Canvas Board 12x10"

The weather was beginning to improve but we still had interesting and complex skies.  Trouble with that is they can interfere with the picture, so you have to decide if the painting is primarily about the sky, the scenery, the atmosphere.  Still an issue I struggle with.

The immediate problem here for me was the boat.  Without it, the bay looked kind of empty, there were actually a few boats there, but I wanted to include one with a simple mark.  Not an easy task for me, being an inveterate fiddler!

A glorious day took us further down the coast to Armadale and Corran, even more remote and accessible only by a single track road, and overlooking the  uninhabited peninsular of Noydart.

Corran, across to Noydart. Oils on Canvas Board 12 x 10"

We were spoiled for choice of subject matter.  There was a public toilet, and the lovely old lady who ran the Tea Room was delighted to have someone to talk to, and produced an excellent toastie for our lunch.  The chickens clearly weren't used to having artists around, and pecked inquisitively at our equipment.

On our last day we trundled a mile down the road to the Kylrea ferry, a tiny vessel that takes 6 cars across the rushing Sound of Sleet to Skye.  It is run by the village community and is a welcome relief for the locals not to have to drive all the way to Kyle to go over the bridge.

Kylrea ferry, Wester Ross.  Oils on Canvas Board 12 x 10"

Once again I started before lunch when the sun was out, but hadnt quite finished when lunchtime called.  As we were so close to home we went back, then returned later, to find there was a party going on to celebrate the launch of a newly painted ferry boat.  The Laird was there, together with bunting, a piper and a barbeque.  I felt obliged to make a few festive changes to my painting!

The afternoon was such anice one, that despite the midges I decided to join my friend higher up the hill and dashed off a quick one of a pretty cottage facing the ferry point - the first image in this rather long blog entry.

We had a great time.  I learned a lot about applying lots of paint, abandoned trying to paint on a white ground on day 2, and got into a big mess, but that is what its all about.

Waiting for a (very high) tide

I recently spent some time in Somerset staying with my daughter.  Naturally I had to get out to paint and explore.  Most of what I did doesn't bare sharing, but this little painting I felt was more successful.
I went to Framingham Quay, in Devon.  An interesting spot, almost opposite Appledore.  It has been developed in a touristy way, but is nonetheless worthy of a visit for its little museum, good tea room and bike rides (you can hire bikes on the spot too).

The tide goes well out, and in one of the tributaries it left a deep cut where it has washed the mud to the sides.  I found a quiet spot and painted a boat pulled so far up it would need a major spring tide to float again.  There were lots of really tatty vessels waiting for tlc, but this one had a certain workmanlike quality to it.
I really enjoyed the negative painting of the trees on the far bank, and chose to omit the frankly unattractive industrial unit on the other side of the river.  A thing that is easy for artists, but less so for conservationists!

Waiting for the tide  10x12" oils on canvas

Electric bike excitement and a cow shed

Because we are in our motorhome we have no ancillary transport with us, so up to now I have been on a borrowed push bike.
Well, as you can imagine it's a bit hilly in these mountains, so you can imagine how excited I was to be offered a trial of an electric bike.
Now this wasn't your average, measly engined pedallo.  Oh no, it was a super duper, top of the range high voltage (well not too sure about that bit) high speed mountain bike.
It weighed a ton, so I wouldn't have liked to hump it across streams or over fences, but by golly it went like s**t off a shovel, and what fun!  I want one.

Sadly it was rather too expensive for me just now, and was also so heavy we would have had to put a stronger bike carrier on the van.  It was with heavy heart that I handed it back at the end of the day.
But it made my trip up to the cowshed a much more fun experience.

I had spotted this little shed over the winter.  The valley is quite steep here so it got little sun, but now the sun is much higher for longer (in mid-summer) it was perfect fodder for my paint palette.
The sun was hot, but I found a generously shady tree, inevitably surrounded by nettles waiting for when I dropped brushes etc, but the shade was welcome.
I am trying to get more paint on my canvas, and end up with a brighter result.  For many a long month I have been a bit disappointed to arrive home and find a dull painting that needed post brightening treatment.

I prefer working on a tinted canvas.  Recently I have been tinting my board on site, rather that preparing it before I leave home, and I suspect this has added to my woes.  I have other strategies for future attempts that involve a quick rough block in of the basic shapes, on a white ground, then a layer of thicker paint on top.  This was my first attempt at this ploy, and I think it paid off. I didn't need to brighten this one up at all, in fact no alterations were made when I got home, other than to photograph it better.

I am quietly pleased.  The shed doesn't look too precise (always a bugbear of mine) and the roof colour has worked well.
The position of the sun also meant that as it moved round the light didn't vary too much.  I had established the shadow patterns early on so was able to stick with it, and my preparatory sketch helped me remember relative values.  I will get there eventually!

Cow Shed on the Plateau
12x10"
oils on canvas board

Nice weather in the Alps

When we arrived last week it was a bit English, in terms of grey, cool and damp, but the weather has taken a turn for the better and I have been able to get out with my paints,  As we came in our motorhome and didn't bring bikes I have been using one from my next door neighbour.  I think blokes have seat bones in different places to us girls, and my painting gear just puts extra weight on the old bones.

We live in a residential area, but the chalets are well spaced and most have delightful backdrops of mountains and lots of conifers.  Here is one just down the road from us.

I am standing next to the public bins, so it could be called 'view from the Poubelles', but I think I need to find a more apposite title.

The giant rock on the right will have fallen from the steep mountainside, out of shot.  Glad I wasn't there when it landed!  That is Pointe de Villeneuve in the background.  it has crept into quite a lot of my local views.  You will see that they have a parasol and garden chairs out.  Thats always a good portent.

10x12" Oils on canvas board
No proper title as yet.

Milly

When the weather isn't fit to go out to paint I like to go back to my pastels, and I am steadily building up my portfolio of dog portraits.  I did lots of commissions  (of dogs, and babies mainly) following on from my two periods as Artist in Residence at Burton Constable Hall a few years ago, but sadly it was before I kept a reliable photographic reference of my work.

You will find a brochure for my Painted Pets at http://janetpoole.weebly.com

This lively wire haired fox terrier belongs to a friend, and was caught mid-air jumping around the house (which explains why her ears are in flight).

Milly
Soft and hard pastels on Pastelmat paper
20x30cms

Pastels with Grunt

I enjoys using pastels for portraits, particularly of the doggy variety, but more of that in another post.  In the hope of injecting my work with a little extra umph, Mum and I did a course in Scotland, organised by the ebullient and talented Margaret Evans of Shinafoot Studios, led by Tony Allain.

Tony is a professional artist from New Zealand who paints spectacular pastel paintings with bold colours and energetic strokes.  I love his work, you can find his website here.

Being a naturally slow and careful worker this was a revelation to me, we produced 4 pieces each day (albeit that some of them could stand a little refinement) but the process was very informative.

Here are a few of the pastel paintings I did, I hope you will agree that they do have a little extra 'grunt'

This is one of my favourite locations on the River Rye, near Malton.  I have painted it in all seasons, and varying states of flood.  It is really hard to get to, I have to stand on a very busy road bridge to take photos, and haven't yet found a spot where I can actually paint plain air, so most of the series has been done in the studio.

This is a newly found location, near Nunnington.  I will definitely be going back there.

This was outside the studio at Unison Pastels in Northumberland (we did an extra day there with Tony later in the week).  It is unusual for me in that I did an on site sketch, then did the little painting from the sketch and memory, without using a photo reference.

These next two were done from reference photos from paintmyphoto.com which is a very useful reference photo resource to work from when I just want a practise subject.  I normal prefer to work from my own photos, but I didn't have anything suitable with me.

 I very much hope that the additional energy obvious in these small works will translate into other media that I use.  I have already done two new dog portraits that I am happy with with much livelier application.  More in my next post…



All these small works approx 10x8" Unison Pastels on Art Spectrum paper.

Flushed with success

After the rush to my head of my last BIG painting i thought I had better have another go, especially as I had a similar blank canvas in the cupboard.

On this occasion mum and I had been dabbling with pastel on a subject that has been lurking around my 'got to paint that one day' because it was a lovely photograph, taken on the way back home after a great day on the slopes in a neighbouring ski area.

Here is my rough pastel sketch, which quite picked up the moody misty evening

This is a smallish (10x12") sketch in pastel on Ingres paper, done mainly to prove to my Mum that Ingres paper really is quite a satisfactory substrate for working in pastel:

This is the final oil version, 70x 50cms Oils on canvas
Misty evening Val d'Arly.
It looks more blue in the photo than it really is, I need to photograph it again in a better light.

Cold Feet

Its been a quiet winter from a plein air painting point of view.  I hate being cold, and I must have thin blood, so I have been doing indoor activities, namely finishing off a big painting that I started last winter but didn't know where to go with it.  A kindly visitor said they liked it in its unfinished state so I figured that was a sign that I really had to knuckle down.
I went back for another look at the scene, to refresh my senses, and soon got going.
This is the end result:

It is quite big (for me) at 70 x 50 cms.
Oils on Canvas, 'The last run home'

I thought you may be interested to see the progress of this one, unusually I had recorded some of it.
I started with an on site watercolour sketch.  I had gone up on my skis, and sat on the cold snow, balancing my sketchbook on my feet for an easel:

 When I got home, I mapped it out on my canvas and started the blocking in.  Because it was such a cold subject I used a warm coloured ground.  This is my initial block in, which I did in acrylics.

The next phase was where I left it for 12 months, and the version that my friend liked, which spurred me on to finish it.

I was now getting a bit more comfortable with oil paint, and preferring the thicker layers that oils let you apply, so here is the finished version as a comparison.  You can't really see the thickness of the paint, but I can assure you there is plenty on there.

Grey days and moorland farms

Doesn't sound like a promising combination for painting, but after a long spell not getting out a tiny promise of sun was all that it needed.  Sadly it waas no more than a promise.
I headed up a road I hadn't travelled before, albeit only a couple of miles from where we live.  10 miles further up the road, past villages full of weekend homes and idyllic pubs I came out onto the North Yorkshire Moors proper at Bransdale.

This old farmstead had a SOLD sign on the ground so perhaps it will suffer the fate of many others and undergo a makeover only to be lived in  occasionally, or maybe some hardy souls will gird their loins to live at the mercy of the unfettered winds and rain, and the slim pickings of the moorland farmer.

My set up on location

The promise of sunshine did not materialise.  The light was very flat but in the far distance appeared a sliver of golden light just above the horizon.  Perhaps the sun was shining in Manchester (or Middlesborough - I am not sure which direction I was facing, but as it was afternoon I assume it would be westish)

To make the painting a little more interesting I enhanced the light and shade on the buildings.
Winter trees are my current bete noir.  How to best portray the massed bare branches is a constant mystery.  Looking at the work of many painters I admire it seems the consensus is an area of lighter tone than the main trunks, similar to the watercolour method, rather than trying to paint every twig.  I definitely need more practice.  I figure as it is still February I have another 3 months before the buds burst in May.  Much more drawings of trees and tree studies coming my way.

Here is the finished painting (there is some glare from the surface of the oil paint.  I am still juggling with light to get good colour representation on my photographs.)  I have gone back to using my DSLR camera as the colours are truer than on my compact.

Grey Day Bransdale Moor
Oils on board
12x10"

Mud and floods

I love painting outside (Plein Air in technically arty terms) I am attracted to woodland, although I find it the most challenging of subjects.  I also love painting water, although in this case it looked more like liquid chocolate, running down from the peat moors of the North Yorkshire Moors.  I think this one begs a repeat visit, or maybe a studio version.  Now it is up on a screen in-front of me I can see lots of things to change.  In the true spirit of a Plein Air artist I don't like to alter painting much when I get home (although I will correct glaring errors and unfinished bits).

This ford crosses the road below the church where my daughter was married last October so it has special significance for me.  A few cars approached, mostly tentative, then reversed back up the hill.  Some bold locals came at speed and ploughed through in spectacular fashion.  I was in our Smart Car so resisted the temptation and drove round to the other side where I had identified my vantage point.

I have had real problems photographing my work recently.  My compact camera doesnt pick up the subtleties of colour so I have gone back to my DSLR.  It is hard to find the right spot without the light bouncing off the wet oil paint, but I have nailed it with this one. 

The sun is coming out, so I am going back this afternoon.  Bye for now.

Kirkdale ford in flood
10x12"
oils on board
plein air

A gentle intro to psychedelia

One of the (many) joys of being in central California was the knowledge that most days I could get out to paint.  The weather on the coast can often start off foggy (and surprising cool) but most days the sun chased the mist away, exposing a rugged coastine, trees that we dont see the like of in the UK,  close encounters with wildlife and pleasant temperatures.  I think October is a good time to visit, and this October was particularly hot for the first week.  Wind, as is often the case, was the biggest foe.
 
I had made prior contact with some local artists and was able to join in with two different groups of plein air artists.  This saved me hours of driving round looking for suitable locations, and I got to some places that I would never have found on my own.  Thank you for your welcome and advice.

My first outing was to Cambria, a charming coastal town some 20 miles north of Morro Bay where my brother lives.  I met up with the Wednesday Irregulars at the gallery of Art Van Rhyn, a charmingly laid back guitar strumming artist of some considerable vintage. 
From there we went just up the road to Leffingwell Landing.  The day started misty but soon revealed a sparkling view of Moonstone Beach, framed by ancient  Monterey Cypresses contorted and disfigured by their efforts to survive in this savagely saline environment.

My palette was singularly british (probably due to the early mist) but as the morning progressed I stuck with it, avoiding the temptation to burst into the delightful Californian psychedelia evident in many local artists' work.

I did adjust my selection of pigments the next time around. 

I was pleasantly surprised when I looked at my photo later just how close the drawing was to the photo.  That is Art painting to the left of the tree.  I would have liked to include him in the painting but it didn't do much for the composition!

Moonstone Beach from Leffingwell Landing
Oil on canvas
9x11"

Online study

I have been doing an online study course recently, led by American artist Larry Seiler.  Other than a few issues finding my way round the site used (ArtistsNetworkUniversity) the content has been really valuable.
We have been doing exercises concentrating on getting good value contrasts.  This is an area that has proved difficult for me in the past, and together with the discipline of working small and fast I think the long term results will be beneficial.  I just hope I can translate what I have learnt when I revert to my normal, undirected, plein air work.

These are the three pieces I submitted for week three, they are all oil on gessoed paper (a new substrate for me - I will blog about that later) 5x7" (another 'new for me') done with a very limited palette and three pre-mixed tones of each colour.

I will go back and do bigger paintings of some of these.  I look forward to what we have to do for the final week.

Backwoods

Doronne de Chaviere at Pont de Gerlon
Oils on board
12x9"

It has been a few days since I got out to paint, due to being on the road and weather not being suitable (bit of a fair weather painter, me), but the last couple of days have been as lovely in the Alps as it has been in the UK

I found myself a lovely secluded spot by the river, which a couple of days before had been in spate, but now was just babbling.  I couldn't see the track, the road or people.  Idyllic.  Or so I first though.  I had previously being reading an article about someone painting in Alaska, with advice on what to do should you encounter a bear.  Being fearless, I thought about it no more.  No bears in these mountains. However,  it is remarkable what the imagination does in a quiet situation.  I spent most of the two hour session hearing crackling branches and seeing movements in my peripheral vision.  But happily no bears disturbed my peace.

In the end I packed up a) because I was chilly, b) because I was getting really confused by what I was looking at and in my efforts to simplify I kept loosing my place, and c) because we were due to meet friends for a drink.

Today I finished off what was a satisfactory start.  My natural inclination is to put in more and more detail, but seeing my efforts on the computer screen convinced me to leave it as it was, although it was the bubbling waters and little cascades that attracted me in the first place.  Review tomorrow!

I can never quite capture the wonderful colours of the glacial melt waters gushing over the stunning hues of the rocks.  I will just have to go back more often to practise.  No hardship. Bears permitting.

Scarecrow festival Thornton le Dale

This week sees a scarecrow festival in our village.  They are very popular in this area, some places being very much better than others.  I suspect that those who have been doing it longer have evolved   a greater level of Worzel Gummaging than others.
I think this is the first one here, but the standard was pretty high, and certainly provided much interest for the hundreds of ice-cream licking tourists who wander the streets of the village looking for something more to look at.
I bravely took to the main street to paint it.  For such an attractive village there aren't all that many 'ready made' painting locations,  indeed even the postcards on sale in the shops only have a limited choice of views, mainly centered on the thatched cottage that I posted about recently.
The structure of the cottages was really complicated to sort out, and I abandoned my first attempt as I had strayed away from the initial sketch I did in my sketchbook, and it was already starting to get more formal that I wanted.  The careful approach is my fall back position when I am struggling with a difficulty (in this case getting the drawing right), but for my second attempt I had sorted out in my mind what went where so I made better progress.
On reflection I think I have got some way towards the simple statement in the painting of the cottages.  I think it might look better overall if I crop down the left and bottom by a few centimetres.  As it is painted on a board that I made myself at least I know that the canvas will be firmly adhered and it won't suffer unduly from the attentions of a stanley knife.

Scarecrow Festival Thornton le Dale

oils on canvas board

10x8"

Still on the chocolate box trail

Hutton le Hole this time, a favourite North Yorkshire haunt of tourists, for good reason, a really pretty village and the gateway to the open moors.
The streets are narrow so no parking, which means quite a walk with kit from the official car park, and with rain threatening to boot I had to take my brolly just in case.
In some places it is useful to shade the painting from the glare of the sun, but on this occasion it was essential to protect the painting (and the artist) from the frequent downpours.

Nonetheless I had a good day, and the net effect of no sun is that the light remains fairly constant so you can work a bit longer without chasing shadows.

The stream at Hutton le Hole
oils on canvas on board
8x10"

A short walk in high pastures

I have been concentrating my efforts on reducing my payload.  To that end I have cut my colour selection down to 6 + white, less brushes, less everything, so that I can manage to hike without needing a pack donkey or a porter.
This trip, which was my first sortie more than 100 metres from my car, took me a 45 minute uphill trek to one of my favourite spots near the Refuge de Roque de la Peche.
It was in full sun so I was relieved to have taken my brolly.  It takes a bit of securing to prevent it being blown away and taking my set up with it, but the shade it affords enables me to see the colours, and the intensity in a more accurate manner.
As usual it need a couple of tweaks when I got back home, but it now takes its rightful position amongst my ever growing collection of mountain views.  A friend has made a rustic style of frame for me.  I really like the effect, it suits the mountain paintings very well.  I will post a photograph shortly.
In the mean time here is

Le Gorge de Montaiment

Oil on panel

12 x 9"

Babbling brooks

From high up in the mountains above Pralognan the glacier melt babbles down towards the village, passing on its way a few summer hamlets. Les Prioux is one of these, and from below you can just see the roofs peeping over the hillside.
It was a lovely day but the sneaky wind meant I had to wear my husbands old sailing jacket over my shorts to keep warm. Everyone else was in full summer gear, but when you are standing still it can be chilly up high.

I am still in oil mode. This one is painted on a beige linen canvas glued to an archival board. I really like the surface to work on. I am now only using six colours plus white, it certainly makes my pack lighter to carry. I have abandoned my chair, I find oil painting easier from a standing position, but still need to carry my tripod, pochade box and an umbrella. Without the umbrella to shade the canvas it distorts the way you see colour and the finished paintings get very dark (or at least mine do!). The difficulty when it is windy is to prevent the umbrella being blown away, together with your setup. Oh the problems of being a plein air artist!

Vers les Prioux
Oils on canvas
30x30cms


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Location:Rue des Grands Prés,Pralognan-la-Vanoise,France

Land of big pointy mountains

Where the sun doesn't shine all the time! Trying to avoid the rain I spotted this view, which I have painted before in watercolour, but this time it was almost all grey.  The distant mountains kept dissappearing behind a heavy veil of clouds, and sometimes just a fat sausage of cloud obscured the middle distance.  The painting looked very dark when I got home so I had to liven up the foreground, although on checking my reference photos there were times when the light appeared from nowhere and illuminated parts of the scene.  You can see the ski slopes on the bottom left, carving their route through the trees.  They look very odd denuded of their habitual cloak of snow.
Vallee de la Glière, Pralognan la Vanoise
Oils on linen board
30x30 cms

Old location, new medium

I am very much enjoying painting plein air (outside in the fresh air) in oils with all it's associated problems.

I revisited a favourite location up the mountain and painted it in oils instead of my previous watercolours or pastels. I am going to revisit lots of my favourite haunts and do the same, I just need to rationalise my kit to make it more easily portable, the one thing I can't afford to leave behind is my brolly, the strong mountain sun on the painting panel results in some very dark paintings that require quite a lot of adjustment when I get back home. In my mind that's not quite in the spirit of plein air painting, but is pretty inevitable anyway.

Hameau des Fontanettes
Oils on linen canvas board
30x30cms





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Location:Pralognan la Vanoise, Savoie, France