What is it about drawing in a book?

so far as we can judge, pastel on 'opened book', 40 x 35 cm framed,

This drawing in the book English Wildlife (I found the book in Needham Market car boot sale), was one of a few images I made while thinking about the word 'Borders' with reference to The River Stour. The Colchester Art Society together with Ipswich Art Society is exhibiting at Firstsite, in Colchester.  Borders exhibition details

 

As I was drawing, I thought about a 'walk and draw' I took with Ruth Philo from Flatford, some years ago.  Ruth introduced me to Rebecca Solnit. Rebecca Solnit mentions the blue of distance and it was that ‘blue of distance' that Ruth saw in my drawing. I am interested in the place where the horizon extends. I wonder how far it goes, or I can see. For me that border is a border of suspended disbelief, of longing, of hope, of ambiguity.

 

When I get a book that I think might inspire me, I look at the words at the top and bottom of each page, hoping that something will give me a starting place. 'so far as we can judge' was perfect.

 

I worked from drawings, memories and fragments of photos to try to conjure the Stour, as that is one border which separates Essex and Suffolk and was the essence of the Firstsite collaboration. I was delighted to learn that the drawing sold last week. If you are interested in seeing more of my drawings on books you can find some on my website. More 'opened books'.

Firstsite exhibition 

day after day without, pastel on 1/2 an opened book,  

This has been a busy family week and because of the heat (and lack of rain), my garden has needed lots of TLC so less time in the studio than usual. But while I watered etc… I was thinking of new ways to make book pages and managed to do a few drawings. In this one, 'day after day without' I took a book apart and glued part of it down onto half of the cover. I want to have the option of making portrait drawings without having to make two related drawings.  I like having the cover as part of the piece. The image is my front garden and I was thinking about lockdown and how I have noticed so much more of what is nearby.  I am attuned to nature in a heightened way.  These are CHANGED TIMES and it is a little day after day without.

Flowers and Food, pastel on book pages. 

I have noticed how bleached everything has become because of the heat and drought. Even some of my bright flowers seem muted.  The potentilla was peach and is now almost white. Having said that, some flowers are eye-poppingly lurid.  I love magenta! This still life was a response to the bleaching of my world in the hot sun. It is also narrative, a response to the words on the page. 

 

And in other ways of playing with the media, the lavender at the bottom, which I hope reads as a book cover, is not really a book cover.  I made book cover facsimile with bookend paper and card. The drawing is not glued down yet.  The drawing was made on three book page-spreads glued together. These experiments will go somewhere, I hope.

When real people popped up in my still lifes

Lucy in Lockdown
egg tempera on panel 30 x 20 cm

I'm astounded to see that it has been months since I posted my last blog! I have been putting things up on instagram.  You can look there if you'd like and have time instagram   but although in many ways a precious period, lockdown did change my routine, it feels good to be back. 

Mostly what I've been doing is making Portraits For NHS Heroes while backstopping our children and their friends, looking after Lyra (our dog) and tending to our bounteous garden in capricious weather. I have also been sketching in various sketchbooks not far from the house and returning to my still life arrangements because there is so much to say about objects and colour now. I have a mail chimp newsletter that I send out occasionally. You can see that and subscribe here: Rebeccaguyverart newsletter  and that would take you up to a few months ago when I began exploring the idea of putting real people's likenesses in still lifes. 

This one, Lucy in Lockdown, was a commission.  Lucy had seen my newsletter and was interested in buying one of the pieces she'd seen.  We had a socially distanced studio visit and I talked her into letting me try to make something that would reflect lockdown for her and have some of the elements she liked in some of my other work in it. She sent me some photos and I set up a scenario. 

I looked online for some figurines that might inspire me in making Lucy and used one I had to understand the light. One thing lock down has helped with is being freed to use photos in whatever way helps me, without guilt. 

Another story about exhibiting at the Mall Galleries!

Patrick and I took the 8:10 train.  Once in London, we went to the British Museum for a coffee. From there I walked over to Trafalgar Square and down to the Mall Galleries.  

On arriving I found my exhibitor's label but decided to save it for later. I walked to the 'naughty' room and to my surprise my work wasn't there. Instead, I found it in the main room, hung with other flower and still life works by RBA members and other exhibiting artists. I met quite a few members in the hours that I looked at work, drank coffee and introduced myself.  David Paul Rowan introduced me to others and put me at ease. Gabriella (last year's NEAC drawing Scholar) and Sergio came to support me. 

PV day

During the day, I met Terry Watts and saw his impressive paintings (one was on the invite). I found Mick Davies (after his wife greeted me and introduced herself) - I was a big fan of Mrs Hokusai's Hairdo!

work by Mike Davies

I visited Messums to see Antony Williams' exhibition. https://antony-williams.com/messums-exhibition-2019/ Later, other friends and family met me at the exhibition.

Tom Marsh and me

It was brilliant to meet Tom Marsh, a regular exhibitor at the Mall Galleries.  He knows some of the plein air painters I met during my NEAC scholarship year. I also introduced myself to Annie Boisseau whose work I admire.

On Thursday I went to John Sprakes talk/book launch/poetry and music event, held in the exhibition. I had met him at the PV and his congenial nature and strong vibrant paintings recommended me to the talk.  https://www.mallgalleries.org.uk/artist/john-sprakes-rba-roi

Brian Johnson and one of my paintings

While there, Patrick's dear friend, Brian, appeared, and we looked at a bit of the work, including my paintings, together.  His adorable words, something like 'it's quite exciting to be able say my friend has work in an exhibition here,' made my day.

Mr Wei Shao, and a fellow opera singer

The following Saturday, I went to the RBA's annual dinner.  We were entertained by the Patron of the RBA, Mr Wei Shao, and a fellow opera singer with a piece from La Traviata. Patrick and I enjoyed our table with dinner companions: Peter Newsome & Marion Eastwood (member and exhibitor) and Lorrain Abraham, member of the Society of Marine Painters who was an exhibitor in the RBA show.  I also had a wonderful encounter with revered Chinese artist, Feng   Sixaio https://www.royalsocietyofbritishartists.org.uk/royal-society-of-british-artists-honours-chinese-artist-sixiao-feng/ His wife and daughter-in-law took photos of me by my work and explained his practice in China.

As ever, the whole experience was delightful and exhillarating.  And I feel that I couldn't have got more from it, which is also good. (unless I'd sold…)

You can find the catalogue online here: 
https://www.mallgalleries.org.uk/whats-on/exhibitions/royal-society-british-artists-annual-exhibition-2019 my work on page 10

A Few Days Drawing in London

The Plinth and the Priest, pastel on book page

Every year the New English Art Club runs a series of classes to coincide with their annual exhibition.  They are run by members and very affordable. I was able to sign up for two this year: one with Daniel Shadbolt http://danielshadbolt.com; the other with Ruth Stage: https://www.newenglishartclub.co.uk/artists/ruth-stage-neac.  

The weather was pretty poor for Daniel's workshop but we were all prepared and I managed to draw in the rain with an umbrella throughout.  True I had to close up my pastels and water pooled on the top of the containers once while I waited for the downpour to subside, but it was fun learning that I can be a guerrilla painter! I had to work with the rain.  My book was damp throughout and the pastels behaved differently. We were in Traflagar Square with Daniel and in St James Park with Ruth.

 For both worksops we brought our own materials and were encouraged to work in our own way. In Traflagar Square the goal was to draw people.  Obviously we would need the surroundings for context but I found it fun to have the figure focus.  Daniel also wanted us to try to create drawings which we would be able to look at and  tell where we had been standing. As I was working small (in my Silent Traveller in London book), I opted to do some cropping to give clues without needing to work in fine detail.

Final drawing St James Park,  pastel on book page

In the park the sun came and went.  Sometimes I wanted to be faithful to the way the 'still life' of plants, sky and architecture were actually arranged (the focus of this workshop was pattern in nature) and in other drawings I moved things around to make the composition and colour work. Some of the drawings took as long as an hour.  A few were completed in under 30 minutes.  Both in the park and in Trafalgar Square I featured in many tourists' photos.  People stopped to ask questions and look carefully at what I was doing and looking at.  

I had some wonderful experiences and Katerina, a young woman from Italy stood for me for a few minutes in front of the lions in Trafalgar Square while Gabrella entertained her parents. Then before and after the rain I met Jonathan, a musician who was next on to busk in front of the National Gallery. He also stood a bit for me.  I loved both workshops and it turns out I like going to the city to draw.

an Old Age,  pastel on book page

Standing by the Canteen, St James park,  pastel on book page

Jonathan on Deck,  pastel on book page

Dinosaur trees about Teatime,  pastel on book page

Katerina and the Lions,  pastel on book page

Green Stripe - No Men,  pastel on book page

Low footfall, why not paint?

I thought about making badges during the down time of my open studio today.  That was the plan but when it came down to it, I wanted to paint or draw.  My flowers are starting to flower and it seemed to me that it might be interesting to visitors if I was doing something that reflects my current interests. While I was working on my little egg tempera, Fiona Camp, a fellow artist and sort-of neighbour came by. She was interested in egg tempera and had even done some herself.  She watched me paint, something I never really understand, but was willing to do. I was fine. I haven't finished...  something to do tomorrow if it's not too busy. I was pleased that I was integrating the various strands of what I am doing: portraiture, still life, egg tempera, painting on the spot and story telling.

What was also intersting about the day was that the picture I almost didn't frame was the favourite of three people. - an egg tempera of Lyra and Patrick on a cold morning. Who knew?

Little sketches in cracks of time

We had a lot of rain in Maine and as my mum had injured her back there was just that little bit more to do in the garden...so this year so I drew less and had less 'headspace' in general for imagery. I carried my altered sketch books to Maine, so was determined to use them when I could. Hopefully I will use these notes later.

We went off the island to do chores. My mother and I collected new vessels from Goodwill.  Back home when it rained, we made bouquets from whatever we could find in the garden. The hellebore was the star of the counter.

One of the things I did in my 'spare time' was to renovate my travelling pastel 'kit'. The pastels have been in saggy cardboard boxes that were falling apart for the past few years - all held together with elastic bands. This year the elastic bands broke in my hands and my backpack was a big grey mess. At the workshop I took with Felicity House, I discovered the power of using rice to keep the pastels from turning grey so I searched for some new clear screw-top holders and it is like magic! It was so hard to say goodbye to this new system that on the way to the airport I stopped to buy another set and have replicated it here.

Back home I'm just coming out of catch-up mode. In the 20 mins when I should have been heading to the house to get on with dinner prep, I paused and drew the stuff at the other end of my studio. One day I went to draw with the IBBAS artists at Old Hall in Southwold. Yesterday Christopher Lucas came by and sat for me.  When I have a chance I will return to the egg tempera portrait below. Today I called into the Handmade shop.  The work by our trail looked fabulous!

Fig comes back tomorrow and It's Suffolk Open Studios soon so it will be a struggle to find even little cracks of time to sketch in...

Spring and the Still Life

Ibbi Bowls and Green, pastel on paper, 29x29cm

Lifetimes ago when we were living in Rome I went to the market and bought some peaches.  It must have been the summer.  I had a tablecloth of blue and white that I got at an off-cut supplier in Warwickshire and apparently it was the same upholstery fabric they'd used in the BBC studio.  It was calm and perfect for our table in Rome.  The peaches spilled out of my bag and I noticed the most divine still life. I brought my drawing pad into the kitchen and drew the scene in pastel and later painted it adding some made up china. 

Today I woke ready to incorporate the divine bowls I was sent by Claire McAlpine from IBBI interiors. Claire discovered my work on Instagram and ended up buying two pieces.  She sent me the bowls after an aside comment I made about loving their china. As I started putting together my set up, I couldn't help feeling the excitement I felt with the peaches in Rome.  I sold that painting to Lena and Hennig so only have the memory of it.

Last night I was in Colchester at a talk by Charlotte Verity.  Her work is beautifully spare and she explained that her still lifes are not just still lifes. I'm not sure mine are more but I think I do my best work when I feel enchanted by what I am looking at and like Charlotte sometimes my subject becomes a portrait. Perhaps these bowls were my people this time. 

Digressing, this morning Henry Finkelstien was talking about Chuck Close's comment,  “Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just go to work”.  Everyone commenting disagreed with that. I think I remember Charles Williams or maybe Jason Bowyer saying he doesn't value 'work'. I know what he meant, the struggle is a particular way of being an artist. Then there's the playful thin. I know I'm for inspiration. and if you want to call my work nostalgic, and sometimes playful that's OK.

Drawing the model like a still life

 Having spent the last few days making lots of little still life drawings, directly, I wanted to think of the model as a still life today and see what that frame of mind would do to the drawings. I moved around the paper looking for shapes and colours, tones and light - swapping pastels, adding ink, beginning with ink, Using a big fat brush, working small, smaller, bigger - trying to hold the pastel gently, to use both the end and the side, to keep it dry and to work into wet and to think about the edges. This is the order of the poses. The first was 15 minutes then Sue decided we needed some quickies - 3 minutes, then back to two fifteens and finishing with a thirty.

Snow of Memory

Snowy Walk, egg tempera on panel, 30x20, 

I was asked how I worked recently. Did I draw, did I work plein air, did I use photos? I use all those strategies but I don't work in a straight line, visualising an outcome. I begin with something I want to try out and then things happen and I need to make choices and find ways to solve problems. 

I have tried to keep the snowy light in my head so that I could make a little series of pictures of walking in the morning light. I did some drawings and took some pictures and tried to look and look. I looked through paintings and kept two books open as I worked on this: Wolf Khan, pastels and particularly: Looking towards St Peters (1963) and Bonnard (Phillips Collection exhibition) Piazza del Popolo, Rome.

Wolf Khan, Looking towards St Peters

Pierre Bonnard, Piazza del Popolo, Rome

The place and the situation are a collage of memories, stitched together to make a believable moment. The figure with the hat was added later and I removed some things that were distracting. The moon was a happy accident.  a drop of water that removed the tempera.

When something works it's time to try it another way

Snowy Walk, egg tempera on panel, 30x20 cm, 

For the past few years I have stuck to particular media to use for different subjects.  I use pastels for still life, landscapes in Maine (mostly) and life drawings, egg tempera for portraits, monotypes for UK landscapes and life drawing. Oils are for everything. I've also made a few egg tempera paintings of still lifes and Maine landscapes since I began using the medium   Today I tried it for snow light. What I was trying to do was to create the surface interest that I love from egg tempera, to try to get the luminosity you find in snow and to find colour that would provide interest.  I used a few drawings I made when the snow was on the ground and photos from walks. The image was a collage of some of these images. 

When I went to the Bonnard I saw how he used drawings to do the same thing and how he used animals as devices for colour and shape within the painting. 

I think I'll do a series of these if I can find different things to say about it all.

Inspired by Objects and Garden

Partisan Day, pastel on board, 27 x 27 cm

I've been drawing in pastel regularly over the past few weeks, taking inspiration from the objects I find and what is growing in the garden. I have tried new corners of the studio to set things up and although I intend not to use flowers in every drawing it turns out they are w ay for me to put colours together that make sense that it's hard to do any other way.  There's also the thing of not wanting the flowers to die before I have captured them.

The image above began as a matching exercise: I decided I was going to begin with Matisse's colour scheme, colours I might not gravitate to myself. 

Henri Matisse, The Piano Lesson

I moved around looking for objects and colour to compose something that would have my sensibility and evoke the Matisse. 

Cold Incessant Rain, pastel on board, 27 x 27 cm

Wednesday Carboot, pastel on paper, 17 x 18 cm

Tangerine Zinnia and Tie, pastel on paper, 16 x 16 cm