I was once in the Norwich Castle Museum, purposefully striding along the galleries to their fine collection of watercolours and ignoring the paintings hanging left and right. In mid stride – I stopped – and took one pace backward, wondering what on earth had captured my notice? Looking around at the paintings, there was nothing here to interest me?

Painting a young maiden is similar to cavorting with great abandon. It is the finest refreshment.



Portrait of a Chambermaid

To my right was a rather plain 3/4 portrait in the the Dutch manner; an elderly man with a white beard, a red nose, dark and sombre clothing, hands resting in his lap with a white ruff I think. Not what would be described a handsome man though I think I recall a flash of spirit and a twinkle of laughter in his expression but those could easily be my imaginings.

Every child has the spirit of creation. The rubbish of life often exterminates the spirit through plague and a souls own wretchedness.





Nicolaas Rubens

It wasn’t the subject that had stopped me dead in my tracks, so many years on and the composition is very hazy in my memory. I stood and studied this painting for several minutes, even getting into conversation with one of the museum staff about it. The owner had recently died and the painting was expected to be sold – and they were expecting it to go elsewhere.



It was the sheer quality of the flesh painting – flesh that seemed almost to have blood running in the veins.

I’m just a simple man standing alone with my old brushes, asking God for inspiration.



Self Portrait

I was in Edinburgh some years later and excited about going to see a major Rubens they had on display at that time – how can anyone be excited about seeing a painting! Even though this enormous historical painting is a world famous masterpiece (and I’ve forgotten the title) it disappointed me because it lacked the same magic I’d seen in the humble portrait that had hung in Norwich Castle.

** More Peter Paul Rubens’ Quotes

Once I Heard You




Once, I heard You
Insisting with the Moon to bring the light;
Once I heard You
With that light, a voice so clearly true
All Stars then stopped their turns at just how bright
The World beneath was made to seem that night.



(c) Intrepid Dreamer Poetry















Landscape with Stars


Henri-Edmond Cross
(Henri-Edmond Delacroix 1856–1910)

“You do not see with the lens of the eye. You see through that, and by means of that, but you see with the soul of the eye.”



John Ruskin
(1819-1900), English art critic.



The Grand Canal, Venice
John Ruskin

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage



[I stood in Venice]
George Gordon Byron



I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs,
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O’er the far times, when many a subject land
Looked to the wingéd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!



She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was–her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers:
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.



In Venice Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone–but Beauty still is here;
States fall, arts fade–but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

The Piazzetta, Venice

JMW Turner
Photograph: National Gallery of Scotland

Drawing is “going for a walk with a line.”






Paul Klee (1879-1940)
painter and graphic artist




Paul Klee (German, 1879–1940)
Introducing the Miracle
[Vorführung des Wunders]
1916/54







I would say that art is more like taking the eye for a gentle stroll.



I’d chosen Venice as a destination because I wanted to study the Tintoretto’s, gaze in admiration at the Titian’s and see the fabled light for myself. I returned with 160 frames on my camera, admittedly many of these are more memories than potential subjects but the master of Venice Rio stood out as a composition because I liked the overall effect, temporarily overlooking that perspective drawing is my least favourite element of any subject.



The aspects that were obviously appealing to me were the dramatic contrasts of the deep shadows and brightly lit boats. The shadows were challenging in themselves because they could easily degenerate into a dull and boring surface. It was important to the overall feel that they retained an interesting texture without appearing to be just walls that were a darker colour; they needed to seem ‘unlit’ but visible, to contrast and frame the bright highlights in the middle ground. It wasn’t until after I began that the subtle complexities of the underlying structure started to reveal themselves










Venice Rio








I like the way there are small highlights in the plants and details that are picked out in a way that encourages a visual route around the surface that echoes the more dominant route of the shadows. The challenge of these lights was that they needed to remain a supporting echo to the very dominant highlights of the boats and parts of the bridge.



The bridge in itself was intriguing because it appeared at first glance to be square across the Rio but is in reality at a very irritating angle as far as perspective is concerned. Another aspect that I hadn’t noticed initially was the tendency for the buildings to be slightly wonky (technical term). This created quite a dilemma for me whether to aim for accuracy where it could so easily look like my perspective drawing was flawed or straighten them up a bit and know that I hadn’t been accurate; I settled on my favourite solution of ‘near enough’ as being about right.



Another aspect that is significant to the whole composition is the right hand side of the bridge as there are a number of elements that keep directing attention towards this area of the picture.



One of the technical discoveries I’ve made from this visual exploration is how using a variety of marks can create a quite separate element of composition. For instance, the dark areas in the foreground are built up to suggest the various textures, then overlaid with more vigorous pencil work to create a subtle sense of energy as if the shadows were a physical form; this is then contrasted against the more controlled and precise areas of pencil work that create areas of calmness and these varieties of marks form a counterbalance to each other.



Venice Rio was finished around midnight the night before I submitted my portfolio to become an Associate member of the Society of Graphic Fine Artists, so I haven’t actually sat and had a good look at the finished drawing yet.

When I’m on a subject expedition, I’ll take photos of anything that grabs my interest and if it looks promising as a composition, I’ll take loads more around the subject exploring the potentials – if that’s possible. There are dozens of ‘almost, nearly and not quites’ on my hard drive that I can’t quite bring myself to delete. But I never really know whether it’s going to work until I”ve seen it on the monitor; and more usually it’s a question of what needs emphasising or repressing to get the composition to work. These adjustments are only vaguely discerned at this stage usually – just a ‘bring that up a bit’ or ‘push that back’.



There have been precious few frames that were instantly felt to be good subjects – Dayboats is one example of this. And oddly enough it was the only frame taken of that subject because I became engrossed in the almost perfect clarity of the reflections, ignoring the background. But this aspect on it’s own would have been insufficient to keep the eye interested in the picture for very long; the eye needs to flow around a composition to keep it ‘interested’ or it will look away.









Dayboats







There are a number of elements that can be drawn on to create this journey, whether these be singled out or used in partnership. The strongest element of the journey in Dayboats is the balancing of the strong white on the left boat which acts as a pause against all the surrounding busy surfaces and textures. There are a number of routes around the picture that follow along the ‘architectural’ structures. If you look at it for a while, notice how your gaze travels around the different items but will invariably return to the white boat – then off it goes again when it’s had a brief rest, trying out a different route perhaps.



It would be inaccurate to think that I am always conscious of a full understanding of how or why a composition works right up until it’s completed. Usually, I see something that I find striking because of one aspect of the image (like the reflections in Dayboats) and discover the reasons for it working, for me, whilst I’m getting it on paper. I was aware of how the overall building and features contributed to the flow of Dayboats before beginning it but inconspicuous details like the shadows cast in the left hand side or the rope hanging down from the scaffolding – quite minor details, almost ignored visually – are integral to keeping that visual flow going. I was totally unaware of the significance of the white boat until it was finished.



So drawing is my way of finding out what it is about a view that interests or intrigues me; it’s pulling the elements apart to find out how it works, what makes it striking to me, discovering why it appeals.



Apart from Pine Trees that is; I’ve never come up with a satisfactory explanation for that one – yet.