TUESDAY
Each morning I drag myself with difficulty to breakfast and listen with half an ear to the conversations around me. Odd how Adrian and his brother both have physical handicaps, Adrian an artificial hand and Ben with damaged legs. Maybe they were involved in the same accident. Their mother was an artist and since her death they discovered that they have both begun to paint.
A woman is speaking of the difficulty in choosing a suitable landscape to paint. Yesterday she and a friend had settled in a picturesque spot out in the countryside when, too late, they discovered they were sitting on a main dog-walking track, a Great Dane at their shoulders eying their work.
Richard was busy embroidering at breakfast, “I have a show at Chipping Camden at the weekend, must have enough to sell.”
Back in my room heard a terrific noise outside. Down in the pond a second male mallard had flown in and was attached to the neck of the first, battle on for the attention of the female. Spring is here so are April showers.
Today, artistic freedom of choice in the drizzling rain or in the studio. Richard has set up his easel in the summer house where he’s going to spend the morning crayoning and painting a demonstration landscape. He’s chosen a lovely view of a path winding through the daffodils and trees. We can visit him from time to time to watch his landscape grow. Alas, the woman beset by dogs yesterday has set up her easel to paint the same view. She’s going to be disturbed again.
Decided to stay in the studio and try another pencil sketch of the white folded sleeve of a medieval garment from a photograph. Hopeless. Try another sleeve this time using a coloured pencil. Too late remembered I should have matched the medium so abandoned it, at which point the morning had gone.
After lunch the studio was visited by a travelling Art Shop. The owner must earn quite a lot going around all these art courses.
Joined a ‘remedial’ group in the afternoon for guidance in redrawing the fruit landscape using crayons. Very gradually I’m getting the idea of how to layer the colours to get the 3D effect. Quite a few people and braved the drizzle to attempt a landscape outside and produced some quite good results for a first attempt.
Today there were fewer people in for lunch as the Weekend Groups have now left, but ‘Knitting from Left and Right’ and ‘Bridge’ have arrived, also the local Rotarians are at the bar. I nearly expired on seeing this glut of younger, relatively speaking, men.
Attended another musical evening on the theme of Spring and Romance, piano and poems read by April in dramatic fashion. Surprisingly enjoyable, so much more alive than watching television. The only thing which made my hackles rise (I’m definitely steeped in life in Haringey) was when Iris the pianist described a piece of music as, “a dance in praise of evil practices by savages in distant lands.” Fortunately, the ‘wild’ music contained my outraged sensibilities.
WEDNESDAY
Opened the window to glorious sunshine and an unexpected sight on the opposite bank of the pond. Richard, in cords and fairisle well-camouflaged beneath a flowering cherry, engrossed in painting. As a professional artist, when you’ve got to paint, you paint. I took an early morning stroll through the grounds. It’s so peaceful here, the air so fresh, very glad that I’m staying for a full week.
Today was our first day of working out of doors. First we had a demonstration of perspective drawing based on a flint and brick wall before being left alone to consider perspective. Still unsure of the shading but at the end of morning ‘show’ my drawing was held up as an example of someone who had stuck to the recipe and achieved good results. I did point out that I couldn’t draw yew branches so had ended up with palm fronds (my favourite tree) instead. He told me to Shut Up!
After lunch a group of us found a spot with a collection of trees with different foliage but very similar colouring. We tried to draw along with Richard. Well, must keep reminding myself it was my first attempt. Not sure that I like his ‘cross hatching technique’ but at least it’s a method with which to begin alternative shading, albeit in very chill circumstances.
Having defrosted at teatime I opted out of the ‘painting water’ demonstration, but later back in the studio watched him recreate a bowl of golden celandines and deep purple anemones. I’m far too heavy-handed to achieve his delicate colours but persevered before and after supper there being no official entertainment. Rumour had it that there was an unofficial demonstration of flower arrangement but I stuck with my own flowers. To an outside eye the end result looked like a scribbled mess but to me it held the memory of that beautiful vase of flowers. I still haven’t grasped the basic principle of shading to achieve perspective, my attempts becoming increasingly wild, threatening to kill the subject.
I’m now sipping Lemsip, the April sunshine may be attractive but it’s too cold to be sitting outside for hours. The daffodils on my desk are dead. Only one and a half days left.
I’ve just reread this letter, it sounds rather incoherent at times failing to give a clear description of the week’s events. However, it’s certainly my perspective on them.
THURSDAY
Numbers at breakfast seem to be decreasing and seating is becoming more Course orientated. It’s really quite surprising how close the feeling between people has grown considering we’re held together by our collective creations and not much else.
Discovered to my annoyance that the painting which I’d laboured over last night should have done in quite a different style from mine which had ended up as a manic attack on paper with layers and layers of different colours.
The wind is blowing and the rain is drizzling down so , with some relief, settle to working indoors when suddenly I was greeted with acclaim by someone had spied my floral attack, and later had it flapped infront of the group by Richard. “Full marks, recipe well followed. Go to the top of the class and become the most hated and envied person in the room!” Boos heard from the clown of the class, who actually has mellowed during the week. Everyone really does have a serious attitude towards their work.
More demonstrations followed at which point the reason for bringing a white hanky became apparent. It had to be folded so as to create a white landscape which then had to be copied, like the fruit, with delicate shading using primary colour pencils to achieve the effect of edges. Richard showed us some beautiful examples of this in Italian Renaissance art.
I wasn’t inspired to develop this skill so stayed to watch the following demonstration, a painting of ‘my masterpiece’ the bowl of celandines and anemones. When he’d applied three layers of paint I felt quite overwhelmed by the complexity of the process and headed back to my place and staged a quiet revolution. Slapped colours neat from the tube onto unstretched paper in mixes of my own creation without paying attention to any rules. Very cathartic.
At lunchtime a diversion. My studio neighbour, a physiotherapist, taught me how to relax by stretching muscles in sequence. In the afternoon I felt sufficiently relaxed to begin painting a daffodil. By exhibition time there was praise as usual from Richard but also a feeling that people were getting very tired.
To my surprise, although I temporarily abandoned the daffodil on his advice, I couldn’t resist sketching’ very faintly’ someone else’s bunch of pink and cream tulips. Felt transported back to my youth when I used to love drawing.
The final dinner, prawn cocktail, minute steak, roast potatoes, green beans and ratatouille was followed by a dessert trolley full of undesirable cream based concoctions. I’m actually looking forward to returning home to beans on toast and fresh fruit. Sat next to the Deputy Director of the Centre and learned of the huge variety of courses going on at the forthcoming Summer School. Could spend a fortune enjoying myself there.
The highlight of the week’s entertainment was, for me, a slide talk by Richard showing the artists who have influenced him, mostly Italian, Da Vinci, Della Francesca, Raphael and, in recent years, his fixation on flowers. He paints compositions of the same flowers in different lights rather like Monet with his haystacks, and subsequently recreates them as highly intricate embroidered collages. Talk about labour of love, hundreds and hundreds of tiny beads sown on using the same layered technique as in painting. But obviously he does love it, finds the whole experience very meditative.
I’ll miss him. He really has been one of the most inspirational teachers I can ever remember encountering. He’s reminded me that I can draw, that I really like drawing and want to do more of it. I’m intrigued to see what happens when I return home, back to those magazines. Will the urge to convert them into collages still be there?
FRIDAY
Another grey day. I guess it will be easier to leave than if it had been glorious sunshine.
Hadn’t expected to do much on the last morning but began with a game on perspective ie. looking at a picture and considering it in terms of lines, tones, shapes, numbers of each and seeing how these have been calculated consciously or otherwise to enhance the subject.
This was followed by thoughts on our next visit to an Art Shop, the range of colours we might now consider adding to our palette when we feel confident and expansive.
Finally we returned to unfinished work. For me, a daffodil glowing rather dimly in yellow light. Following the rules it grew progressively darker whilst alongside it, to keep my eye fresh, grew a pencil drawing of a rather limp end of week bunch of flowers in a bottle abandoned by a neighbour. Rather symbolic of my end of week exhaustion after such intensive concentration.
Richard had actually gone into the studio early in the morning and rearranged our ‘babies’ on our wall display which had grown throughout the week. He had picked out the ones which he liked most and made a separate display alongside. He was so full of praise for everyone and, I must say, we have all come a long way since last Friday.
Someone asked him about ‘natural talent’. His feeling is that it’s all a matter of practice, at which point he gave us our homework. He’s advised us to practise drawing for a short time every day and then, in a year’s time, to decide whether or not to continue.
The oldest lady on the course, Kathleen, presented him with a card we’d made, a poem, plus a mark made by each of us, and a bag full of wool to add to his collection. He seemed genuinely moved.
He then raffled the demonstration pieces he’d created during the week so we are all taking away an original ‘Box’. His congratulations for good work, his reward to each of us a hand-crayoned strawberry the significance of which you’ll understand if you read his book. After a quick farewell he was off to set up his exhibition in Chipping something. Really feel that I’ve got to thank him for reawakening in me the love I used to have for drawing when I was about nine.
Time Past
Love Pen
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Next Week - A week’s coach tour with Cosmos in Spain and Gibraltar - Part 1
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For Art Lovers : https://www.naomielfred ross.com/post/the-anxious-artist-visits-the-freud-museum
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