Whitby Harbour

 

Whitby Harbour

(Pilot disposable fountain pen in Pink Pig sketchbook)

On a cold and wet day, hat better way of passing the time than a little bit of drawing from a photograph taken in Whitby .

Big Log

Big Log

(markers in 21 x 26 cm sketchbook)

For the first time in over three months I went for a walk to Saltwell Park today to meet up with the revived Mondaymondaysketchers. It was great to see someone face to face, other than Pat or the woman in Nisa. I was pleasantly surprised to find that although the Park was quite busy with families enjoying the sunshine, they all exercised social distancing, waiting at the beginning of narrow parts of the path while someone passed. Not a mask in sight, but outside in a park, I guess that's not a problem.

Towards the end of the sketching session, a rainy shower hung about a bit more than I liked and rather than sit with the others to eat my non-existent sandwiches, I suggested we cross to the bandstand area where there was shelter and Colin, at least, started to follow. Under the shelter I found I was on my own and when I went back to the Towers, everyone was gone. I suppose when it rains and you've done your drawing for the day, you might as well eat your sandwiches in the car and go home.

This is the fallen giant I drew in my Saltwell Park Sketchbook today. Not the side I'd planned to draw, but someone had taken a chainsaw to that side.

Studio 4, Tweed Street

Studio 4, Tweed Street, Berwick

(0.5 marker in A5 sketchbook)

After a week of great weather, it was disappointing see the forecast for Friday's trip to Berwick-Upon-Tweed showing "showers". Seven members of Gateshead Art Society had signed up for the ride in a people carrier, hired and driven by Allan, to see what we might find to do in Berwick. My plan, of course, was to do more urban sketching.

We parked the car on the south side of the Tweed and walked across the Old Bridge, then split up. I know Berwick slightly, but had no real idea what I wanted to draw, so wandered off up the hill, past the Town Hall and eventually stopped across the street from this curio shop in Tweed Street.The sky was already threatening and a handy doorway nearby added attraction to the view.

The woman in the shop (not the one in the drawing!) was still arranging her treasures outside on the pavement and every now and then I'd look up to find that the suitcase had moved from one side of the door to the other and the rugs in the basket had changed pattern. Luckily, the puffin (?) balanced on the table balanced on another table stayed put.

The rain started before I'd finished and I had to shelter in the doorway until it stopped and I could make my final additions. By then, I have to admit I was feeling the cold and the thought of something to eat was comforting, despite it being quite early, so I headed back down the hill towards the river.

The skies opened before I reached the Granary Gallery and by the time I was in and looking at a very nice collection of work by women artists, including Dame Laura Knight, Dod Procter and Mary Fedden, I was very glad of my umbrella.

With no sign of the rain letting up, I went downstairs to the YHA Granary Bistro and over a falafel and mozzarella panini, fiddled with the Studio 4 drawing. I probably overworked it, but it kept me amused.

On the way back to the car, with the rain having moved off, I suddenly realised the Dockside Gallery was just along the road from the car park and had a few minutes to chat there before my mobile rang calling me back.

It rained quite a lot on the way home, but Gateshead had been spared.

My Dad's Diary : Wed 10th December 1947

"Coughing well - cold continues.

Weather is very cheerless."

My Dad's Diary : Tues 18th November 1947

"Everything going along fine.

Very frosty weather."

My Dad's Diary : Thurs 13th November 1947

"Everything going well.

Cold weather started."

My Dad's Diary : Wed 5th November 1947

"12D again today.

Marvelous fine weather just now.

Overtime tonight."

My Dad's Diary : Sat 31st May 1947

"Beautiful weather."

As it was today.

Sketch Crawl : Ryhope Pumping Station

Marker and brush pen in A5 sketchbook
(The brush pen tones were added later)

Saturday started very promisingly: the spell of hot weather appeared to be continuing and when Richard picked me up from Low Fell, he was sporting his shorts for what he assured me was the first time of the year. I assured him I had a cap in case of a sunburnt scalp, but also a small umbrella in case of ... English weather.

When we got to Ryhope Pumping Station the sun was still overhead and Michael was already drawing away on the lawn. The lure of powerful Victorian machinery was more than Richard and I could stand, so we went inside the main building just to check things out before settling down to sketch.

As soon as we were inside the heavens opened.

This was one of the days when the pumping engines were powered up and to all intents and purposes were operating just as when they were installed, except that no water was pumped up to enter the local water supply.

The machinery is beautiful and mesmerising, with huge cast iron Doric columns and delightful detailing on essentially minor parts. I found it genuinely difficult to drag myself away from watching the pistons, flywheels and beams, but eventually I stood and drew the second of the objects above. I've no idea what it might be and probably don't really care.

The rain eventually stopped and we ventured outside, where I admit I found the elaborate style of the building, coupled with the very tall chimney at one end too much to cope with in compositional terms. I should perhaps have decided on a small part of it and stuck to that. Instead, however, I drew the cast iron object with the door and the chains, again with no knowledge of what it might be. A 19th century iron maiden, perhaps? 

Cups of tea and slices of Victoria sponge in the cafe accompanied our sharing of sketchbooks before going home.

Next time: Mouth of the Ouseburn, 10th June 2017.

My Dad's Diary : Sun 6th April 1947

[Easter Sunday]

"This is a bad Easter, not fit to go anywhere."

Poor weather continues.

My Dad's Diary : Sat 22nd March 1947

"Fine weather continues."

My Dad's Diary : Mon 6th January 1947

" First snow tonight, very light.

Library."

A hint of weather to come.

Sketch Crawl # 12 : National Glass Centre, Sunderland

On the Wear (Coloured pencils in A5 sketchbook)

Looking at a Facebook Memory for this day eight years ago, I find I was "feeling ... disconnected." Without drawing any inferences (because there are none), I note that I was feeling something similar yesterday. Maybe it was the weather; after all it's the middle of August in England, so naturally it would turn wet and windy for our latest Sketch Crawl.

On the Metro going to Sunderland, I met up with Richard and we chatted about things while the sun shone on the landscape outside. By the time we got to St Peter's Metro Station, however, it was greying over.  Richard was keen to show us some of the techniques he'd learned at the International Sketching Symposium in Manchester recently, so we gathered round a table in the Glass Centre and listened with interest. Then off to try out the techniques.

Or not. I realised very quickly that doing thumbnails in the sketchbook  (the suggested technique) is what I do already, but I do it in my head. This is partly why I always take so long to get to started - I'm working out the best composition and deciding what the focus will be.

As a result, in the 45 minutes allocated to the thumbnail exercise, I found that although I'd started a thumbnail in the smaller of my two sketchbooks, it quickly moved into a full pencil drawing. And then it started to rain.

Back in the Glass Centre, we compared notes and thumbnails for a while then set about finding something to draw that didn't involve going out in the rain. I discovered that by creeping along the front of the building I could find an area, complete with pigeons splashing about in a big puddle, where I could at least make out the boat I'd drawn as it slowly raised with the tide further upriver. Digging out my little box of Rowney coloured pencils bought years ago, I made my best effort o colour the drawing. There are areas where I feel it became a bit overworked, but it's acceptable, even if, for some reason, Photoshop refuses to represent the greens accurately. 

Unusually, I think I may have drawn something that will eventually become a painting.

[Next Sketch Crawl: Durham Market Place, 10 September, 1pm]

Sketch Crawl #11 : Ouseburn Farm

"Sea Song Sang",Ouseburn
(0.5 Micron marker in A4 sketchbook)

Ouseburn Farm Giraffes
(0.5 Micron marker and Pentel Brush Pen
 in A4 sketchbook)

Last Saturday was my eleventh Sketch Crawl and we'd decided to return to the Ouseburn. Last time we were there it rained constantly and we had to spend most of our time looking round the open studios in 36 Lime Street and my heart sank a little when I checked the weather forecast the night before: more rain.

No need to worry, however; the weather was very kind and only a brief shower interrupted us, so I was able to get done the drawing of the little "Sea Song Sang" boat that sits on the Ouseburn below the windows of the Seven Stories cafe. I'd wanted to draw that last time but without shelter from the rain it was impossible. Good to be able to do it this time then.

After a short regrouping to decide what to do with the rest of the afternoon, we went out to draw again. This time I had a good look round the Ouseburn Farm and found an interesting view of the railway and road arches, together with some plants and two concrete giraffes (sorry to disillusion anyone who thought there might be wild giraffes in Byker).

Two drawings. Definitely my limit it seems. When I was done I headed off to the Biscuit Factory cafe to drink coffee and compare sketchbooks with the others. There was a bit of a holdup at the cafe counter, but this was definitely absolutely nothing to do with Anita and indecisiveness didn't come into it at all.

Drawing in Saltwell Park

The Climbing Tree, Saltwell Park
(0.5 Micron marker in 21x26 cm sketchbook)

As a break from the normal session in the workroom of the Shipley Art Gallery, Gateshead Art Society decided on an afternoon sketching in Saltwell Park. 

Amazingly, after a morning shower, the weather decided to co-operate and half a dozen of us turned up in bright sunshine to make minor masterpieces in our individual ways. For good or ill, I opted for the very complicated "Climbing Tree". It's a very old yew tree whose branches have played host to generations of kids, and I speak from personal experience.

Part way through the drawing I realised the sun had moved round and was now shining directly into my one good eye. I should have brought a hat to shade my eyes, but in the absence of one, I went for a walk to see how others were doing.

Coming back to the tree about ten minutes later, the sun wasn't being any more helpful, so I moved position to work on the right hand side branches, ignoring the small boy now clambering over them. Eventually, however, I realised I'd done enough for the day and coffee called at the cafe in Saltwell Towers.

I walked home via the bird cages and listened for a while to the nice grey parrot in the end cage telling people to "F*ck Off!"

The tree still intrigues me and I plan on going back to work on the drawing some more, taking in the branches that will spread across the left hand page.

Sketch Crawl # 6 : Baltic and Sage

(The usual and some not so usual suspects in the Baltic)

The weather is never really kind at this time of year and while it was a decent enough sunny day on Saturday for our sixth Sketch Crawl, the wind was howling a gale and icily cold. So meeting in the cafe of the Baltic was a good move and we had a good turnout: 7 or 8, unless I'm mistaken. But Mike likes to put the pressure on and said "Well, I'd like to try drawing outside for a while." Who there would say they thought it a terrible idea?

I tried to get out of the wind by walking round the side of the Baltic and standing on the narrow quayside path but I soon realised I was in something of a wind tunnel. Still, having decided to draw a boat on the other side of the Tyne, I set to and tried to ignore my streaming eyes. About an hour later, my freezing cold fingers (Note to self: remember fingerless gloves!) had made this rather shaky drawing. I tarted it up a little later on with some firmer lines and a grey brush marker.

Across the Tyne 
(Black markers and blue and grey brush marker in A4 sketchbook)

It was a relief to meet up back in the Baltic on the observation deck, but the view from there is so complex that I think no one really fancied attempting it. So out we went again into the wind and climbed the stairs to The Sage.

The Sage is something of an intimidating space too, although I suspect that after a while it would be possible to get to grips with it. I eventually settled on looking down from the first floor gallery onto the tables of the cafe. For no particular reason, I decided to use a 4B pencil for this drawing and I have to say I enjoyed using it and like the result. The only problem with such a soft pencil is that it wears down very quickly and while sharpening it outside wouldn't be much of a problem, leaving pencil shavings all over the floor of the Sage probably isn't looked upon favourably by the staff.

In the Sage 
(4B pencil in A4 sketchbook)

Next time : The Discovery Museum!

Sketch Crawl # 5 : Ouseburn

Natalie Bell - Untitled (acrylic on board, 12 x 12 cm)

RAIN (and indoor entertainment) STOPPED PLAY

It was always going to be a questionable plan to arrange a Sketch Crawl to coincide with the Ouseburn Open Studios. The Ouseburn area is fascinating and in the right circumstances it would be great to draw the flying viaducts, old industrial buildings and even the urban farm animals. But on Saturday the weather wouldn't play ball. 

I think one or  two sketches were done and Liz managed to get a print in her sketchbook of a pig's snout, but mostly we all took advantage of looking round the artists' studios in The Biscuit Factory, 36 Lime Street and Jim Edwards's Studio Gallery.

In the end we all agreed it had been a very enjoyable afternoon, despite the lack of sketching, but decided that we should not try a Sketch Crawl in December. We'll arrange another in January in the no doubt foolish expectation that the weather will have improved by then.

And the painting illustrated? I couldn't resist buying this sweet little painting of a cup from Natalie Bell (no relation) at her open studio in 36 Lime Street.

Askrigg, May 2015

Nr. Helm, Wensleydale 
(Pentel Brush Pen in 21 x 26 cm sketchbook)

My Regular Reader will know of the trials and tribulations I've been going through in the last couple of years, coupled with the delights and accommodations of a new wife and a new house. I've had to get used to: reduced vision in my left eye (not out of the woods yet, it seems); wearing glasses for the first time (varifocals at that); a new studio (still being sorted out); two days away from home each week dealing with the old house; an upset routine (and I'm a great one for established routines); oh, and a host of other distractions if I were to allow myself to really think about it.

So much water has flowed down the gutter in Boogie Street, that it would be an impossible chore to bring you completely up to date and you might find your patience wearing thin in the process. This is a blog, after all, not an autobiography.

One significant event in recent times was the annual painting trip with friends from the Art Club. Or at least what used to be the annual painting trip: because of my eye problems I haven't been on one since 2012, when we went to Staithes. This year I decided I needed to get out and test myself again, to see if I could still do that old "look-and-put" style of drawing.

Eight of us from the Club booked a week in Ingleby Lodge in Wensleydale.

The place was great, with two kitchens and umpteen bedrooms but as we found to our dismay, no cover outside in case of rain. And that proved to be just what we needed. It rained most of the week. When it wasn't raining, there was a fierce cold wind which made standing around drawing or painting virtually impossible. I've always had doubts about Turner's story of having been lashed to a mast in a storm, but true or not, I wasn't prepared to emulate his feat.

So it was that only one proper drawing emerged for me - the one above. On a rare sunny day, with the wind still full in my face, I went out for a walk through some woods near Helm and dropped down into a sheltered valley. Making the drawing proved easy once I'd started and I grew quite immersed in the doing of it, such that after a while I heard a voice say "He's obviously concentrating". Looking up from my sketchbook, I saw a group of hikers climbing over the wall just a little further up. They were all waving and evidently saying "Good afternoon!" I smiled, waved and went back to my work.

The drawing may seem relatively inconsequential, but it certainly lifted my spirits to find that I can still cut it.

In a brief break from the rain, I stepped out into the garden the following day and drew this bird feeder, just for the hell of it:

Birdhouse, Ingleby Lodge, Askrigg.
(0.8 Marker in A5 sketchbook)

Dreamer

Dreamer (Oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm)

I finished this yesterday but as luck and the weather would have it, I couldn't take it to the Painters' Group meeting. It snowed most of the night and although snow fall has eased off today, there's no sign of a thaw.

I got up early to see if I might be able to get to the meeting, but the main road looked bad and the front street was covered in a thick blanket of snow. In addition, the painting was still tacky, which made carrying it in bad conditions not an attractive proposition. I put the central heating on and went back to bed. The painting will keep for another month.

Private View at Bailiffgate

Across the mezzanine.

Three small paintings in a display case.

Three Prague  Tram paintings.

Guests.

A while ago the Private View for the Bailiffgate show was changed from last Tuesday night , when the weather was as decent as we've come to expect for summer, to Friday when the forecast was for torrential rain and flood warnings were out for just about everywhere you could think of. As a result the turnout of guests was not all we might have wished for. Even the solid gold I'll be theres I've come to count on called me up and apologised for their absence.

Luckily, the  Bailiffgate Museum is run entirely  by volunteers who do a sterling  job and many of them turned up to help dispel any feeling of abandonment. The chairman made a splendid speech and overall we had a good time.


In keeping with the zeitgeist, my camera batteries failed on me and I had to keep taking them out and turning them round just to take these four photographs.