Clare on a G String

Ok so I know it's not a landscape of the Dales, but it's one of my most recent paintings.

This was painted for a friend's 40th. Getting the feeling right was the problem for me here  - originally I wanted just a painting of her violin, but I thought this would have been too lifeless, and a bit clichee'd, and after several attempts at getting things right, and lots of scrubbing I hit a wall - I had in effect drawn a blank, I just couldn't make the painting look personal... I then hit upon a figurative idea, and had a bit of a sketching session while Clare was rehearsing for a concert with Burnley Concert Orchestra, this went well.

I had originally thought of making the Clare the main subject, against a dark / featureless background, but as they were going through some drastic changes to their new house I thought it would be fun to make a comment of this. This is relfected in the half-completed breeze-block wall, the tea-towels drying, and the laundry hanging down over the Aga, adding what I thought was a touch of 'reality' to the image. I also did not want to over-glamourise the issue of 'violin practice', hence the blue-hooded top, it is in fact a moment in time captured.The perspective was also important - I wanted everything to lead into the painting and away to the left, and I suppose it takes the viewer on a little trip through Clare and Graeme's half-built kitchen

"Clare on a G-string" Oil on cavas 14" x 18"
I'm not sure how the painting has gone down at their household, I know I have had several comments regarding the raw breeze-block wall, I guess I could have painted in the exposed pipe-work, but I thought that may be going too far, and I'm sure Graeme would not have thanked me for that. I just hope they don't mind me putting it on display here...

The little dipper

As I am currently offshore, I thought I might update this with some of my older paintings, this one in particular was a joy to paint. The river close to home is a fast flowing upland section of the Ribble, perfect territory for dippers, and on a few rounds around the circuit I spent some time watching these little birds. They were nesting underneath the footbridge that crosses the river, and being in a particular frame of mind decided to have a go at painting one. Previously I had been reading Keith Shackleton's autobiogrpahy in pictures, and was fixated by his paintings of birds. Another artist who I admire immensly with relation to wildlife is Martin Ridley whose website is a huge store of inspiration for me.
http://www.martinridley.com/index.html

So motivated was I to get this painting done I decided to go for acrylics rather than oils as I really wanted more of an instant result. I took some photos and drew some sketches of the birds in question (having a good spotting scope helped) and sat down and actually planned my painting.

Most of the time I usually thrash one out, a reproduction of what I see, but in this one having seen how proper artists go about things I decided to sit down and do a large sketch on plain lining wallpaper (cheap and really effective for the purpose).

Having decided on my composition and tones I transferred the sketch to cryla paper and using a very watery consistency blobbed in the main areas of colour. I've included a photo of my 'studio' set-up, the laptop is great, as I can change tonal values and work out areas of contrast, although it does get splashed from time to time when I get carried away, the 'studio' is in fact my attic space, and due to a lack of natural daylight (!), I supplement this with two daylight simulation lamps.

And so the finished article, I was really cracking on with this, but it did take me a couple of days to get it done, and I'm rather plased with him, although there are a couple of places that I think need refining. I'm not too happy about the bird's shadow or his coat, but this is all going in the bank of 'what to avoid in the future'.

"The little dipper" Acrylic on paper 14"x10"

Swaledale Ewe

Thinking of a catchy title for a sheep is not an easy task for it not to sound to cheesy, painting it however was a dream. It was one of those paintings I completely lost myself in, starting first with the head and the facial details, going mad with the fleece, and then almost as an afterthought the blurred walls, and finally the grass. I guess this isn't the proper way around a canvas, but hey, I'm enjoying it, and no-one has ever told me the rules so I guess there are none to be broken.

"Are ewe looking at me?" Oil on Canvas 18x14"


For those who are interested, she is another swaledale ewe, the same sheep in fact as the previous posting of 'steves sheep' (yeah another catchy title), painted from a photo (another slap on the wrist) over a number of weeks (but only three sittings, which were orientated around work). I remember saying something about sheep and walls, and clichee... can't quite remember what... but regardless, the sheep in question evolved from the fact that I really enjoyed my previous sheep experience, and I think she's a winner.

I've got a few more projects on the go, but as I'm away for the rest of October and most of November I may just update this site with some previous paitings.

Jacky Barn

Another fantastic summer’s day and another opportunity to get out and record another part of the countryside, in fact it was probably the zenith in terms of weather for this summer in this part of England. Salaber’s Barn (locally known as Jacky Barn) is a typical stone-built Dales’ Barn just off the Pennine Way track past the Crown Inn, Horton. These stone barns adorn many a landscape painting of the area, but rarely as a study in themselves. I find them incredibly interesting, each Dale seems to have its own style, in terms of layout and this one is typical for North Ribblesdale. The workmanship of some of these barns is simply outstanding, and there are hundreds scattered all over the place, some are in a sorry state of repair. No worries (I thought) about people looking over myshoulder at this one, as I plonked myself down in a fairly empty field, empty that is apart from the sheep.

 "Jacky Barn" 8"x6" Oil on board

I found painting this one fairly easy, and rather enjoyable, and I was completely oblivious to how hot the sun was. This ended in burnt legs and arms, again I learned another (painful) lesson, one which I am bound to repeat… Half-way through the pochade the sound of a quad-bike, cursing and sheep calls broke out. I should have realised that most of these sheep in this field had yet to be shorn, and up rolls Steve with his dogs rounding up the sheep, not an easy task as I know how stupid sheep are, but the dogs set to the work effortlessly. He had a long look at the painting and as it was clearly unfinished he took a breath, and asked if there was any chance I could paint the complete roof, as it was one thing on his long to-do lists… the time of day was passed and he was off on his way. That’s the thing about painting in the open, anyone passing will not be aware of what stage the painting is at and therefore won’t pass comment, and if they do it’s always positive. I implore people to get out and paint, and not to be put off by what others think. I know artists who work predominantly from photos, and I think they are missing a whole part of the spectrum, but yes it does take nerve to ‘perform’.

The sheep in the foreground was just a memory by the time I painted it in, and I think I have done it justice. Overall the pochade took about 2 hours, and to be honest I never felt any time passing.

Pochade - Brant's Ghyll

The 30th June was not a bad day to go off painting, not too hot and only a slight chance of rain, well, that's what I had thought before I set off. I had always wanted to picture Brant's ghyll resurgence ever since I had first seen it, but because it is what it is, a small cave and a spring at the foot of a small limestone cliff, it is therefore a fairly boring subject matter, the difficulty here was to at least attempt to make it interesting, a feat of which I have to admit I have failed. I have visited Brant's Ghyll on a number of times in conditions as varied as snow to searing heat, but whatever the condition, it would seem that the light never affects this place. I find the site of huge interest as a geologist, a natural spring at the foot of a massive limestone block, at the junction where the limestone meets the more impermeable slates and flagstones of the Horton group of rocks, and as water cannot pass through, makes an exit along this spring line. The reservoir for this water is deep under the Pen-y-ghent massif, in the speilogically-elusive master cave. I heard a story that at one point for a long time this spring never flowed, and this was a dry valley, but during one deluge, something changed in the internal organs of the cave system, and Brant's ghyll flowed again. It is a place of solitude, not many people know about it and is often overlooked as people tend to bypass it on their way up the well-worn tracks along the pennine way or up pen-y-ghent.

Getting to the place where I wanted to sit, in the valley bottom, was another challenge, half-walking half-sliding down a muddy slope, and ending in a heap on a rocky outcrop inches away from a good ducking in the stream itself. Having set up on the other side of the stream a rough sketch was made in pencil which placed the general composition, incidentally I had visited the place often before and had decided on the composition from those trips, so the hard part was over, and now I thought the easy part was to slap the paint on the board. I had assumed this would be the simple bit, but the weather had plans of its own, a series of showers brought work to a halt while I sought shelter upslope among the trees, this would have been fine if I had been using say Acrylics, but with water-soluble oils it is a different story...

Brant's Ghyll Resurgence 8"x6" Oil on board



What would have normally taken about an hour and a half to paint was finished in 3 hours, with several (long) paues while rain stopped play. I think for a larger painting more mood has to be employed, maybe more regression with mist around the cave enterance. It does feel a mystical, magical place as all of these natural springs do, and if I am going to paint it 'properly' that is the feeling I would like to achieve. I'm not saying I am not satisfied with the pochade as it is, but that's what it is - a sketch for something bigger and more profound. I know people would say 'why not just take a photo', a photo is all well and good, but it does not serve as an accurate aide memoire for the bigger picture, and this is the main thing I have been understanding in my forays outside with my little pochade box.

My little pochade box.

Along the Ribble Way

The Ribble Way is a 'medium-distance path' that follows the course of the Ribble (surprise suprise) from its headwaters at Ribblehead to beyond Preston where it enters the Irish Sea. Another glorious day, one of three we had this summer! and another pochade was the basis of inspiration for this one (the 29th June), I had to force myself out to get the pochade done, and choosing the spot was probably the hardest part. I was thinking about the woods in the distance, but at this time of year the floor of the woods was just green, the bluebells had gone to seed and the ramsons not yet flowering, thus it would have been a fairly dull image although one I will certainly bear in mind for the future.

 Ribble Way Pochade 8"x6" Oil on Canvas board

There is a lovely walk around Horton, known as 'the circuit' of which this image is part of, the route takes you along the road from the Crown, past the Lion, down Chapel Lane, through several fields, across the Tay Bridge, and follows the river back to the Crown. This little walk is only 2 miles long and is a pleasurable stroll. This scene is part of that stroll, near a local spot known as 'parson's pool', although the river itself cannot be seen in the image I have tried to imply its course to the left and behind the trees in the middle.

Just to the left of the picture (not seen) is a buttress of the old 'Tay' bridge which was washed away some years ago, the footbridge was replaced further downstream in 1993, beyond the middle-distance trees. It is a cracking place to sit and watch the world go by, as long as you can put up with the midges, which is why I showered myself in Avon's skin-so-soft before leaving the house. Of all the midge / mosquito repellents on the market I have found this to be, without a doubt, the most effective. So smelling like a boudoir I set to work on the pochade, I won't go into details but it was completed within about 1 1/2 hours. Having done the pochade I knew how a full-sized painting would be formulated, and what to avoid, how to improve and what bits to miss out.

"Along the Ribble Way" 14" x 10" Oil on canvas board.

With this in hand I set about the full sized job, and as I mentioned was a pleasure to paint as I knew what colours to mix, where to slap them on, and basically how to put together the jigsaw of the painting. Ok I might have emphasised some bits (the sky is never THAT interesting), and thrown in a rambler, but pretty much true to the sketch. A number of walkers were making use of what little summer we had and while I was painting the pochade a number passed me by, so in the finished article the rambler was thrown in more of an afterthought to give some life to the painting. The finished article was framed and presented to my brother in law for his sixtieth, and mightily pleased he was of it.

Summer Pen Y Ghent

Pen-y-Ghent is an iconic hill in the dales, its shape is discernible to all those who know the region, and especially those who have walked up its slopes. The translation of the Gaelic is Hill of the Winds, and is aptly named as it never ceased to blow atop its summit. Being likened at various angles to the back of a whale, an upturned pie, and even a baboon's head; the hill is certainly a focal point for all images of the upper stretches of the Ribble. There are really two hills in one, the main, highest hill is Pen-y-Ghent itself which doglegs away from the river with the smaller, less frequented Plover Hill on the massif's northern slope. A gritstone monolith overshadowing the softer shales and limestones of the Yoredale series, is a remenant of the ice ages which ravaged this part of yorkshire thousands of years ago. Along with its sisters, Ingleborough and Whernside make up the Yorkshire three peaks, this would be the baby of the three, not the highest, but arguably the prettiest.

I painted a pochade in a morning when it stopped raining long enough for me to rush out of the house and complete a sketch in about an hour and a half. The lane is one which leads from Crooks Farm to the main B6479 road, and is typical of the lanes herabouts. South is to the right in the picture and it is interesting to note the fauna along the north side of the path (facing south) is meadowsweet, cow parsley, buttercups and hogweed. The other side of the path is dominated by grasses - these sort of things I onnly note when I am painting the picture.

I liked the scene immensly and wanted it more refined and certainly on a larger scale. I used a 24 x 18" canvas for the finished painting and rather than getting it done in a day spent about a week on the process. Using the Artisan water mixable oils, I have found that to get them to dry so that overpainting is reasonably workable takes about a day and a half. I wasn't aware of the final composition as I was going along and the character (my wife) was chucked in on a whim without any forethought for balance - and yes I am aware I have broke one of the cardinal sins of composition - in that I have a subject matter dead center, this certainly was not my aim although it is growing on me.

And a photo I took while painting the pochade...

Steves Sheep

Oil on canvas, 12x9". She's a Swaledale ewe belonging to a friend of ours painted yesterday. I have always maintained that if you can paint sheep and walls you've made it as an artist in the dales, so as you can tell I'm getting there... (I'm not too happy about the wall). I know the composition is a bit wacky and goes against all of the rules written down on composition, but sometimes I think what the hell, I like this and there's something about it that works.

I know it's a bit clicheed, the ubiquitous sheep and the wall, but really thats the reality of life in the dales, it opitomises life in the dales and not to paint them would miss out on a huge portion of the feeling of the region. So apologies for the clichee... I was thinking last night about painting a similar subject but much larger, however I feel I may be falling into the trap of the stereotype.

Littondale

I have had a 20" x 8" box canvas kicking around the attic for some time, so last week I decided to make some use out of it. The view is along the road from Stainforth to Halton Gill, and after some to-ing and fro-ing in the car like a fat lady getting comfortable on a chair I pointed the boot of the car in the right direction.
What grabbed me about the view is the feeling of distance in this little-visited part of the dales. Most visitors tend to end their trip up Littondale at Arncliffe and then head off to Malham, which is a shame, as one of the best pubs in the county is found at Litton, the Queens Arms is a great place for sunday lunch following a walk around the river, it also offers B&B accomodation. This is the view from the top road looking southeast down the valley.

Initially the scene was painted in some rather old acrylics I have kicking around the studio, and rather wish I hadn't, although the skies look leaden the day was rather warm and the paints dried instantly on the canvas which made blending nigh-on impossible. Also you can probably guess I painted the sky first (when the day was a bit duller) and the hills later on, as the sky cleared somewhat, still the result is rather pleasing.

Pochades

Last week I made a concious effort to improve my painting, to attempt at least to do something arty every day while I am at home. We live in the dales and as it was summer last week (yes, for one or two weeks a year) I decided to get out of the house with my dusty pochade box and get painting.
It started off at a sterling pace, I managed to thrash out 2 pochades in the first day of my resolution, although I have to admit by the end of that day I just wanted to get the painting finished and to head off home.

The view in the first is towards the "Tay Bridge" through Crooks pasture, Horton-in-Ribblesdale. I guess its called locally as the Tay bridge because its predecessor got washed away some time ago, and the new bridge was built about 20 years ago. As the day was wonderfully hot, and dry weather forecast, I wanted to get the scene in before the farmer cut the grass for silage (which happened the very next day). I positioned myself across the small back (which is just in the foreground) away from prying eyes from the footpath which runs across the field. I don't know why I settled on this composition, I guess I have always found it pleasing and any path which takes you towards a bridging point is aesthetically pleasing (not that I am spiritual in any sense of the word!).

The painting is on an 8x6 canvas board (one of 7 remaining), and painted with water mixable oils, these are quite handy when out and about. I tried to get it thrashed out as quickly as possible, but it still took 1 1/2 hours to complete. Perfect I reckon as an oil sketch for a future painting?