Seaside Cafe Nos 1 & 2

Seaside Cafe No.1 (Fortunes of War) - (Oil on canvas, 9 x 12 ins.)


Seaside Cafe No.2 (Due South) - (Oil on canvas, 9 x 12 ins.)

The cold weather, coupled with the failure of the Art Club's boiler meant that when I got there yesterday, the oldsters had decided that they couldn't take any more frozen bones and gone home.


Bolbec Hall Studio

In splendid isolation, I set to and finished off the two paintings of Brighton cafes

Old Drawings #52

Rooftops (Charcoal and compressed charcoal on cartridge paper)

This drawing is clouded in uncertainty. I don't really remember when I did it, but this seems an appropriate point in the Old Drawings scheme of things to post it. I can't locate the dimensions of it either, although I suspect it was done on a sheet of A1 cartridge paper.

It's a drawing of the rooftops to be seen if you look over the Western side of the Tyne Bridge. Eventually, I made a painting from it, but people so rarely look over the side of the Tyne Bridge that no one knew where it was and kept asking if it might be somewhere in the Mediterranean! The painting is in a private collection, so I don't have access to a good photograph of it, I'm afraid.

Rocks Nr Sawrey

Rocks Nr Sawrey (Oil on canvas, 40 x 40 cms)

Thank heavens for the Art Club. On Thursday I found myself with a burning desire to finish off the rock study. I knew there was little to do, so I made a short visit to the Club and put in the branches, did a little glazing with some sap green, signed off on it and came home satisfied.

For most of the time I was on my own, as the boiler in the building has broken down completely and the old gadgies at the Club are feeling the chill. But there are electric heaters and it certainly felt warmer than the studios when I was at University. I'd taken along one of the Brighton cafe pictures, but realised that I need some very small brushes to finish that off. Something for next time.

2 Funerals

Life, or perhaps death, just seems to be getting in the way at the moment, so progress on the painting front is at a standstill. I went to a funeral on Tuesday where I learned I have a second one to go to next week. Although not desperately depressing, I do find this flattens out the mood and makes getting on with things difficult.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Old Drawings #51

After Rain [Charcoal, compressed charcoal on A2 (?) cartridge paper]
Private Collection

Done in 1998 or 1999, this drawing is a view of the Tyne Bridge from a curious little concrete balcony that juts out over The Side. In 1999, it led to this painting, which I sold through a gallery in Leeds. I could have sold it several times over (the Geordie diaspora?), but later I was a little dismayed to come across it online, for sale "still unwrapped". Whereabouts are now uncertain.


After Rain (Oil on canvas) Private Collection

Back at the Club

Rock Study (work in progress)

There was a powerful load of inertia built up over that Xmas and New Year break. Yesterday, although I felt I'd recovered sufficiently from my Week of Constant Coughing to detect a resurgence of interest in painting, I simply couldn't settle on anything specific.

Today I figured that the only way forward was to go to the Art Club, catch up on some gossip and simply launch into the only painting there left to work on. And this is it, now almost finished; just some branches to indicate, which I think are necessary to draw the composition together.

Old Drawings #50

Collingwood Monument (Charcoal, compressed charcoal on A4 cartridge paper)

I seem very susceptible to the kind of cold that imparts an endless hacking cough. I collected one from Tesco just over a week ago and it's been wearing me down ever since. 24 hour coughing is very debilitating, and I've had no energy to pick up any of the threads I was working on previously, or to make a start on some new projects I have in mind.

Bear with me? There are, after all, Old Drawings to keep things going. This is another from that lonely walk in 1998 from Seaton Sluice to Tynemouth that resulted in the Seaside Shelter drawing.

Revised Opinion

OK, now we've got snow! After showers of snow every day this week, the depth of snow is certainly equal to many I remember as a child. Amazingly, I've begun to hear again the rumble-rumble----thud! as snow, warmed by the afternoon sun, loosens its grip on the tiles and rolls off the roof.

And there are icicles! I'd almost forgotten how much I loved those glorious, glittering watery confections, now to be seen dangling from the eves of the house,some of them reaching almost three feet in length.

If nothing else, my inner child has been re-awakened by this winter.

Warm Thoughts from Indoors

Down in the garden, there's a blackbird valiantly pecking at the seed in an effort to get as much of it as he can before the snow covers it all up. Outside my upstairs study window, the snow is swirling and billowing, and inside the study there's me, thinking.

I sometimes wonder whether I think because I'm not painting, or I don't paint because I'm thinking. Either way, I'm thinking. What I really need to do, however, is write down what I'm thinking. There are connections being made, plans formulating and possibilities being explored, but all of this is internalised. It needs to be put on paper so that I can see where it might lead, so that's what I'll be doing for the next hour or two.

As is usual with these thinkfests of mine, there's a book driving me on. This time it's Eric Maisel's Creativity for Life, a book that pulls together some of Maisel's previously expressed views and turns them into an encouraging overview of the problems faced peculiarly by artists. There are exercises at the end of each chapter which, on a quick skim last night, suggest ways I might be able to get my act more securely together than it feels at present.

Whether or not I'd be better off painting than thinking is somewhat irrelevant. It was quite nightmarish trying to get down the backstairs to give the birds their cold weather rations; I'm not sure I fancy shuffling down again to get to the studio. Blimey. I might never get back up again until the thaw!

Speaking as someone born in the historic winter of 1947, I remember much, much worse snow than what we've got now. We really have forgotten how to deal with snow in this country, haven't we?

Medallion Man

I was delighted to read on Casey Klahn's blog, The Colorist, that he'd awarded me a medal for one of my posts. Casey has been a firm supporter of my attempts to find a way through what for me was a colour minefield and has applauded my efforts just at the time when I needed encouragement most.

His own work is outstanding and his blog a delight to read. I urge you to follow up his other recommendations and take some time to look over his blog.

Happy New Year

As Pat and I walked home last night from our New Year's Eve party, the freshly falling snow crunched underfoot. For the first time in years we're having a proper Winter and, although I'm sure I'll be moaning when the snow turns to slush and ice, I really appreciated the break from those awful grey, wet miserable Winters we've been having.

There was more snow today and for a while it was difficult to see across the Valley to the Silver Hills, but later the sky brightened and I was able to take this photograph from my study window.

I'd like to wish you all a very happy and prosperous 2010.

Holy Island Boat Shed

Holy Island Boat Shed (oil on canvas panel, 5 x 7 ins. Private collection)

I hope you all had a good Christmas. I certainly did and must thank Andy and Helen for giving us such a great time in Cambridge. And the Boxing Day revels with Helen's folks were much appreciated. Thanks guys!

The secret commission I spoke of a while ago can now be revealed. It was this small painting of one of the famous boat sheds on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, with the Castle in the background. I did it as a Christmas present for Andy and Helen.

It was interesting working on such a small scale again. When I first started painting, I did quite a lot of paintings on this sort of scale, especially while Northumbria Gallery were running their Small Works shows, but it's been a few years since I tackled one. Doing this one, and reflecting on the increased problem of storing large pictures in the house, has moved me further in the direction of a renewed interest in small works, I think. Hidden away, but lying dormant, is my Other Blog, Art from Tyneside, set up a year ago during a period of interest in the Daily Painters Movement. Maybe it's about time to get that project off the ground. Watch this space.

Merry Christmas!

Compliments of the Season to One and All.

Website Goes Live

At last! My website went live today, so I hope you'll think about visiting. No, don't just think about it, do it, go there now, do it without thinking! You know you want to.

I'm still finding my way around the template system provided by Clikpic, and as time goes by I'll be adding more content, but I'm happy with it as it stands. Which doesn't mean I won't be interested in any comments you may care to leave on my doorstep.

Old Drawings #49

Seaside Shelter (Charcoal, compressed charcoal on A4 cartridge)

I'm still distracted by various things, so no new painting to show.

On one of many lonely days in the studio at Uni late in 1998, I decided to take the Metro down to the Coast and look for inspiration. It was a cold but sunny day and I walked down the almost deserted beach from Seaton Sluice to Tynemouth. This is one of the drawings that resulted.

Later, I used it to make this painting:



Shelter (oil on canvas, 24 x 24ins)

Pharmacy

On Wednesday I overcame my reluctance and went to see Damien Hirst's installation Pharmacy at the Baltic. I don't like what Hirst does but thought it unfair to condemn a piece of work without actually seeing it. So I met up with my old mate John and after looking at the entertaining photographs in the Martin Parr exhibition, we walked into the room containing Pharmacy.

It didn't make me angry. It didn't make me curious. I didn't laugh. I didn't sneer. I was completely unmoved. The least I expect of an artwork is that it should provoke some emotion, however slight, and this did absolutely nothing.

Sorry, Damien: must try harder. Why not take up painting? No, wait .....

Robert Holdstock (1948 - 2009)

This Winter continues to pry my fingers loose from all sense of reality. At the weekend, 29th November, Robert Holdstock died after collapsing on the 18th with what proved to be a serious E.coli infection . He was only 61. I knew Rob when I was active in the world of SF conventions and fandom. I didn't know him especially well socially, but he stands tall in my mind as a fun-loving man who filled every room he was in with laughter and good cheer. As is always the way of these things, I'd recently obtained his email address with the intention of writing to him to catch up and say how much his writing meant to me. I delayed doing so and regret that I can never do it now.

Those of you interested in the SF and fantasy field will know him as the author of many notable sf, fantasy and horror novels, but his talent was to show that genre writing could also be good literature.. Unquestionably, his most significant work is that connected with the Mythago cycle, which began with Mythago Wood (1984). The novel won both the World Fantasy Award and the BSFA Award and was particularly notable for creating a viable fantasy mythos set in the present day, while describing an ancient world of archetypes within an English woodland.

My sincerest sympathy to his partner Sarah and the rest of his family.

Old Drawings #48

Saltwell Park "Frying Pan"
(Charcoal, compressed charcoal on cartridge paper, 16.5 x 23 ins)

I've always liked this view - I've drawn it several times over the years and even started a small painting which failed to take off.

Saltwell Towers and its grounds, which lie at the heart of Saltwell Park, are surrounded by low walls and walkways and every now and then there's a little turret. These used to have nice wooden seats in them but seats always offend the loutish section of society, so they aren't there now. When I was a kid, I always called these turrets "the frying pans".

Old Drawings #47

Steps by Saltwell Towers
(Charcoal, compressed charcoal on cartridge paper, 16.5 x 23 ins)

Walking down the path in the previous Old Drawing, you come to this set of steps next to the Towers. The Towers building at the time was hidden behind the dilapidated fence at the right, with many Danger - Keep Out - Falling Masonry signs.

Old Drawings #46

Saltwell Park - By the Towers.
(Charcoal, compressed charcoal on cartridge paper; 19 x 33 ins)

In 1998 I began to think about drawing the countryside rather than the town. I don't live in the countryside, however, so I decided the next best thing might be the local park. Saltwell Park at the time had been in decline for some years and the once splendid Saltwell Towers was nearing collapse. The Towers are that gloomy bulk at the right of the drawing.

I'm delighted to say that with a Government grant, the Park has since been restored to its former Victorian splendour and won an award as Britain's Best Park in 2005

Oaks Nr Sawrey

Oaks Nr Sawrey (Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 ins)

Back at the Club again on Friday and good to get back into painting. It's a companion piece to Oak Citadel, which I've posted here previously. I'm really happy with the way these have turned out and am beginning to think about some further additions to this non-urban subject matter.

Maquette

The maquette is inaccessible, I'm afraid, but here are two photos, touched up with some wobbly Photoshoppery, which give some idea of how it looks.

The studio assistant with responsibility for sculpture proved her future value by saying, "You've been looking at too much sculpture, Harry." Suitably encouraged, the following year I dropped Sculpture in favour of Painting and Printmaking.

Short Interlude

More Good Press

Another nice write-up in the 9 November edition of The Courier, Newcastle University's student newspaper. This time I get compared to Hockney, rather than Thiebaud. Who am I to grumble?

Drawing for Sculpture 2

Ideas for sculpture (Two pages, A4 sketchbook)


Ideas for sculpture (Two pages, A4 sketchbook)

Some pages from my sketchbook showing work on ideas for the sculpture derived from urban drawings. The top one was based on a drawing of some fire escapes, the lower one on the drawing of part of The Swing Bridge connecting Gateshead to Newcastle, posted last time. The second drawing is more fully realised because the maquette was being made by then.

Drawing for Sculpture

High Street Fire Escape (A4 sketchbook)



Concrete Walkways (A4 sketchbook)



Swing Bridge (A4 sketchbook)

As well as the drawings on sheets of A2 paper I've been showing you, I also did a few drawings in my sketchbook.

You can see in the last one that I was starting to work on ways of adapting the drawing of the Swing Bridge for sculptural purposes. Next time I'll show how I developed these ideas further and, with luck, I may be able to find the maquette for the final sculpture.

It's Oh So Quiet

It really is quiet on Boogie Street, isn't it? I'm sorry about that. The changes in the weather and the clocks have, as always, produced a downturn in my spirits. I'll get over it, but for now I lack the drive to get much done in the studio.

Which is not to say that I'm absolutely idle. In addition to a bit of tinkering with one or two unfinished paintings, I'm currently working on a commission. But it's a secret commission, so I'm not at liberty to say anything about it or to show its progress. Frustrating, I know, but I can't take the chance of the recipient seeing it here before its completion.

Unusually for me, I've also designed and had printed (by Moo) my Xmas cards, which puts me well ahead of the game compared with any previous year you care to name. This ought to ensure that, for once, my friends and contacts should receive a Xmas card from me before New Year's Eve.

Wait, there's more. On the reverse of the Xmas card is my contact address, of course, and also, this year I've included my domain name - www.harrybellart.com - but don't go clicking on it just yet. That's the point. I don't have a website to attach the domain name to. By putting the domain name on the cards, I figured it would spur me on to create the website, so that's something else occupying my time. At the moment I'm considering a site using a Clikpic template. If anyone has any reasons why that shouldn't be a good idea, I'd be grateful for any information.

Oak Citadel

Oak Citadel (Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 ins)

I tried to post this yesterday, but I found I couldn't connect to Blogger all day. A little searching on Twitter showed that I wasn't alone in this, but that it wasn't universal. Odd.

I made an effort to get to the Art Club on Friday ... and found myself alone. Maybe it's due to the half-term holidays and all the regulars have been roped into grandfatherly duties. I suppose I could have gone home again, and the thought did cross my mind once or twice, but I felt that I needed the discipline of getting back into to some work. If I'd gone home, I might not have started on anything at all.

Old Drawings #45

Drury Lane Fire Escapes (Charcoal on A2 cartridge paper)

I seem to be unable to get down to some work at the moment. I spent today with friends, looking at the Red Box and Guildhall shows, but I didn't come away with a burning need to get back in the studio, as sometimes happens.

So for now, let's carry on with the last of the Drawing for Sculpture drawings. There was one other, also done in Drury Lane (it's a lane in Newcastle, not London); a much better drawing, I believe, but one which I sold without taking a photograph of it. Foolish.

Old Drawings #44

Central Motorway (Charcoal on A2 cartridge paper)

Another in the University Drawing for Sculpture series. I took my life in my hands and climbed over a railing to get right next to the motorway. If there's a more hurried look to this drawing, put it down to freezing wind, cars and lorries rushing by only feet away and really horrible fumes. I didn't stay long.