“I think I’d better think it out again!” I have painted and very carefully cut out my dragon, but ….. – look at him now!
If you remember I had drawn him on the shape of the shade so that I could make him the right size and curve. Unfortunately, I forgot that in so doing, I would only be able to curve him on the shade if I laid him down flat. When I tried to make him rise up and prowl, his tail rose up with a vengeance and sat over the light bulb!
Desperate situations require desperate remedies – I cut him in half. By way of compensation for this hurt, I have redrawn his body, lengthening it a little and repositioning his right back foot. I’ve included his old body so that you can see the image more clearly. The join can be tucked under his neck, so all is not lost, but I will need to paint – and cut out! – his new part.
The good news is that the shade has worked well, and the various electrical bits, in black instead of white and clear plastic, have arrived.
I’ve drawn him out on Bockingford Watercolour Paper which I used as the template for the shade itself. (That is also progressing.) I did that so that I could make him bend around the shade, as well as filling the whole shape. I have extended his limbs and tail, and sorted out his convoluted body. I am going to mount him proud of the shade so that he truly prowls.
Chinese Dragons are generally benign, kindly creatures. There is one story of four Dragons helping villagers during a drought, being pinned down by mountains on the orders of an unsympathetic boss who resented their actions, then turning themselves into the four great rivers which water China. So my Dragon needs a name which reflects his benevolence.
Meanwhile I have started to paint him. Since the curtains are all the colours of the rainbow, I reckon I should do the same to him. A “tasteful” dragon is a contradiction in terms, don’t you think?
So, a golden body shading to yellow for his underbelly, turquoise for his spinal crests shading through ultramarine blue to indigo at his tail, and a green “mane”. He’s my blue-eyed boy, of course, with eyelashes to match. A bright red nose, pink tongue and very clean teeth finish the painting. I decided not to cover him in scales as I liked the sweep of his golden body. I have put some scales on his feet, largely because I made a pig’s ear of painting them and the scales cover the indiscretion nicely.
His name is Honourable Giver of Contentment – HGC for short!
We have been re-decorating our sitting room, and now have an exuberance of parrots swirling over the curtains. They cover the length of the room so are very dominant and they lift my heart every time I go in there. Closed, they veil the room in pale green light, like suffused sunlight through trees.
It follows , to me anyway, that bright colour accents must dance around the room, so I have sought out our most colourful ornaments, especially the more exotic ones. I have a herd of disparate elephants, three “traffic light” Limoges enamel bowls, a twenties vase covered with splodges of paint, six brightly coloured clip-on budgerigars climbing over the lampshades, and a black wooden statue lamp of a Chinese boy holding a bat, wing extended, (!) and a lotus flower. This last I have known since before I can remember. He needs a shade. So, I have bought a “coolie” frame, and some handmade paper featuring leaves which I intend to be the base for a Chinese Dragon crawling round the light.
I have sourced the Dragon ( he needs a Capital Letter, I think) from a kimono, but he’s very confined. His limbs must move out from his body if he is to curl effectively. I also want him to stand proud of the shade to create a sense of movement. He’ll be in watercolour when I get that far so this story does have relevance to a painting blog!
I decided I wasn’t happy with my finished watercolour of the Post Office window,so I put it in the sink, ran some cold water on it, and gently scrubbed it with a nail brush.Since this was a line and wash, the drawing is still there, with a haze of colour informing the scene. Then, I painted it again. Since I wasn’t demonstrating this time, I had no over-riding issue to teach, and was able to “just paint”.I have to say I like it more than my previous attempt! What do you think?
This is the completed painting –
– and I’m very happy with it! In fact, it’s a happy painting, scudding clouds, sunshine, peace and quiet. That bank really catches the light. What more could you want?
I used a palette knife for the dry reeds, and to touch in the sunshine on the golden stone of the stringers and the very top of the bridge parapet,then introduced lighter tones (with a brush) in the grass in the near ground. I hope you like it as much as I do.
I’m glad I’ve had a struggle with this painting because it stops it becoming slick and mannered. I think I’ve found the right colour for the path but the tonal balance is still not there yet. To disappear from the conscious view, the path and grass need to be about the same tone, so that is still to do.
On the positive side, the bridge and tower are singing – from the same hymn sheet too! – and the sun-kissed leaves on the trees and bushes are joining in the chorus. Some brights have been suggested in the reeds, and the finials on the tower have reappeared. The top of the hedge on the right had been straight and at the same level as the roof of the church nave (very peculiar), so I’ve varied that a little using the dark trees behind to make the brighter green stand forward.
I spent an hour and a half doing all this, most of it fighting the path, blue to creamy brown, to red brown, to orangy brown to raw sienna. I think this is right.
There is the path to finish, some palette knife reeds to insert, some weeds to grow in the path, maybe some “proper” grass – maybe not.
I am enjoying this painting, especially as I have found my “wrestling place”. It’s the path. Before we go there, I want to relate what else I have been doing.
The bridge itself is coming to life, as is the tower. It’s the introduction of the yellow sandstone which has done the trick – it’s a brighter colour and is very much the signature of these buildings. The grass is cheerful though still a bit uncertain as to intensity. The dark bush on the left has more variation, showing the sunlight catching the dark foliage and the deeper darks characteristic of shadows in strong light. The bushes on the bank have come and gone and come again as I work on the dry reeds and the lush grass.
However, I changed the colour of the path, and I think I got it wrong! My thinking was that this is Wales not the Mediterranean so my favourite creamy ground with purple shadows would be too hot. This is a typical breezy, sunny day in North Wales, so blue grey should work with the sky and the water. But the painting died a little, so how about a different grey, or going back to what I had before? – no decision yet.
Moving on, in the hope that things will resolve themselves as I work up the rest of the painting, I looked at the margins of the water. The reeds had practically crossed the river so I reined them in, improving the water while I was at it. The two bushes now look the same size and shape – not good – but the extra work on the far bank and the bridge is opening up the view. I still don’t like the path.
It doesn’t look as though a lot has changed, does it? This time I’ve modified the hedge and path, so the scene has more depth. For instance the trees on the far right of the painting now sit behind the hedge rather than being part of an amorphous mass of green, and the hedge itself there overhangs its base which in turn defines the edge of the ground. I’ve used variations of the greens first applied to give form to the hedge trying to “grey off” the tones as they near the church. Conversely I have sort to brighten and deepen the tones in the foreground – not too much as I don’t want them to take over the painting.
The same technique works on the path, too. By intensifying the tones in the path in the foreground, I have made it “lie down”. My photo tells me that there are flattened patches of grass down the middle, so painting these (next time) will both vary the surface and add to the recession.
Next the river bank has had some attention. There’s a nice clump of bushes (or brambles ?) hiding the end of the bridge near the church, and the bank slopes sharply too. Directional brush strokes help the illusion. Then the ground flattens as it nears the river, called to a halt by a beautiful dark bush which has Alizarin undertones. That’s a piece of serendipity, as I can introduce the same undertones ( at some time in the future!) in the large dark area to the left of the picture. I don’t really need an excuse to do that, but it’s nice to have one.
My classes have ended for the summer, but I am hoping to work on this painting at home and to post regularly about it, and about other paintings shouting for attention. But “don’t cry for me, Argentina,” I’ll probably be in the garden!
This second pass has started to suggest the details in the painting. The sky has lost some of its energy, but perhaps it was too dominating to be a secondary player in the scene. I used a slightly smaller brush to calm it down, not changing the tones and colours just repeating some of them with smaller strokes.
Turning my attention to the trees beyond the bridge, I sought to differentiate them from each other. After all, they are just beyond, not in the far distance. Again, I didn’t want them to dominate, just to be there. Natural progression then led me to the bridge itself. Here big changes have be made. I was looking for a good basic colour and tone for the red sandstone used in its construction, (there is yellow sandstone in there too, but that colour is easier to find). Red is a misnomer – it’s more brown than red – so I started with Burnt Sienna and added a touch of Alizarin and a touch of Raw Sienna. Alizarin is fierce. I usually tell my students to show the brush where the Alizarin is on the palette, and that is as close as you should get. An exaggeration , true, but not far from the truth even so. A small addition of white and we have success. A tiny sweep of dark on the underside of the arch, and behold! the bridge appears. Isn’t painting wonderful. I have done a little bit on the church tower, given the church itself a roof and played with the adjacent bushes.
This second pass is when painting becomes the relaxing pastime the uninitiated think it is. The first pass laid out the structure of the painting, so now I consult my reference photo less and less, and engage with the painting in front of me more and more. I can stand back, using my arm and shoulder, holding the long handle of the brush near the end, gradually developing my initial inspiration. It puts me in a happy place. I know that somewhere in the painting will be a knotty problem that will have me in thrall – there always is – but right now all is serene.
Now you can see where I’m going. Completing the first pass of painting is always satisfying. The painting appears almost magically and since everything is approximate, there is nothing to irritate. You can see how freely I have painted. I like to stand back and use the arm and shoulder at this stage. If the overall composition doesn’t work, now is the time to put it right. However, I’m happy with this. It works in monochrome too so I know that the tonal balance is sound. Taking a black and white image is a good way of assessing tone – it is so easy to be seduced by colour, especially if colour is as important to you as it is to me.
I used the Ultramarine Blue in the sky to make my greens and darks in the rest of the painting thereby achieving colour harmony more easily. So I’ve added Raw Sienna and Chrome Yellow to that blue, Raw Sienna and Burnt Umber for the reeds, and added the blue to my favourite dark green mix of Viridian and Burnt Umber for the darker bushes. There is even a touch of the blue in the sandstone mix of Umber, Alizarin Crimson and Raw Sienna. Vertical strokes for the reflective water and “shimmering” strokes for the reflecting sky complete this pass. Now I can enjoy refining the image.