Almost Done

Turnbull Winter (work in progress)

Several hours of fiddly work later and this painting is getting close to being finished (as much as any paining is ever finished).

There are some areas where the tones need re-balancing as a result of the snow being lightened; there's also the never-ending need to get the red (red!) on the sides of the building to meet my expectations. Overall, though, I think it's getting there.

The Orange House

The Orange House (oil on canvas, 40 x 40 cms)

What happens beyond the Archway will have to wait. Today, I took this painting to the Club and finished it.

It's one of those paintings that leaves me puzzled. I began it at the same time as the Archway picture, but it seems to have turned out completely differently (allowing for the fact that the Archway picture isn't finished).

Sometimes paintings really do take on a life of their own and no matter what you want them to be, they simply have to be true to their own nature.

Moly Once More

(Markers, fibretips and coloured pencils in Japanese accordion-fold Moleskine)
[Illustration Friday - "Burning"]

It's been well over a year since I was able to add to any of the moleskines in the Totem Pole Moly exchange, Moly_x_63. Unfortunately, this seems to be the nature of the beast. Things are on the move again, however, and this is my latest addition.

Pick yourself up, dust yourself off

Archway (work in progress)

I suppose there are only two ways to deal with disappointment: you can sit around and mope; or you can get on with things. Although I admit to a degree of despondency when I first found I'd been rejected from the NEAC open competition, I chose the latter. Off to the Art Club again, this time with a painting I started in July.

I made good progress with it, which lifted my spirits, and I now have a week to think about what can be seen through the archway. I know it's a sunlit wall, but ... what else?

No Fanfare

(Black marker, colour in Photoshop)

The New English Art Club posted their chosen works on the Mall Galleries website today. My two paintings aren't on the list. Tsk.

I've been adopting the attitude that I probably wouldn't get in the show, in the hope that I'd not be disappointed. Didn't work, and the day seems somehow rather flat.


Prague Tram No.3 (oil on canvas, 61 x 61 cms)


Prague Tram No.4 (oil on canvas, 61 x 61 cms)

Reclaiming My Work

Turnbull Winter (work in progress)

Have you ever gone down a road and realised after a while that you should have turned left some way back, but continued on in the mistaken belief that you might find a way to your destination? Me too. I did it with this painting. I've been unhappy with it for some time, probably shortly after it got started.

As time went on, I realised that it was someone else's painting; I was trying to make it work by making it look like paintings by some other artist. As a result it didn't look like mine and I didn't know how to finish it. It had become misty, undefined, and the one thing I think you can say about my usual work is that it's well-defined - chunky, someone once called it. I also didn't like the fact that it was painted with a different palette from the other paintings I'm preparing for the Xmas show.

A few days ago, I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to take a radical swipe at it and make it my own again. I did that today and while it still has, to me, an unusual look about it, it feels like my unusual look. There are elements in it of paintings I did years ago and elements of what I've been doing more recently. In that sense, it may prove to be an important piece of work for me. Even if not, I feel that, with a bit more effort, after the paint dries, it'll sit far more comfortably in my oeuvre, as we say in Gateshead.

Simon McWilliams

Early Evening, Chania

Early Evening, Chania (oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cms)

I had to make a trip into town today and since it seemed like months since I'd been to the Art Club, I made a detour. Once I was there and the gossip was all caught up on (if Old Tom's gossip can ever be caught up on), I figured I might as well get some work done.

This little painting of part of the harbour at Chania in Crete turned out to need very little to finish it off and I came home to my snow pictures feeling a degree or two warmer.

... and back to the chimneys

The Side, with Snow (work in progress)

Under pressure now to provide details of titles, prices and images for publicity for the Xmas show, I'm moving quicker on this painting. I do find I work better under pressure.

Using charcoal, I've sorted out some of the confusion of roofs under snow and delineated the chimneys, so it's easier now to work on the various planes. My usual problem with red makes me wonder if the red building is too red, but perhaps it's the snow that's too blue. We'll see how that develops in the next session.

The use of charcoal reminds me that I've often considered employing line in my paintings, but so far that has never happened before. Something for the future, perhaps.

More Windows ...

Turnbull Winter (work in progress)

This is a terrible photograph, I'm afraid. The studio light is reflecting far too much on the most recent layer of paint in the sky and skewing the balance of colours. Still, it serves to demonstrate that I'm back on this painting.

[Slightly better photograph uploaded 11 October 2010]

The painting is, in fact, giving me all sorts of problems. When I left it last time (can it really be June since I worked on it?) I knew it had become far too tight and fiddly and I was particularly unhappy with the trees. All of which put me off doing more to it: I didn't want to continue in that very descriptive manner, I knew there were many more windows to be put in (Windows! Why did I choose to be a painter of buildings?) and I didn't want to have to measure them and apply bits of masking tape.

I realised today that I needed to deliberately spoil the tidiness that was keeping me back, so I put in the new windows in a much more careless (carefree?) way. Irregularities can be made good as the picture goes along and while they're too dark at the moment, they can be knocked back easily enough later.. I've also painted over the trees, using a mixture of tools - rags, crumpled paper, a painting knife and a fan brush. The intention is for that to provide a better underpainting for the next session.

Finally, I used some of the paint mixtures on the palette to make thin layers mixed with white to film over parts of the sky. I've been doing that each time I've worked on the picture and it's starting to produce an effective glow.

Underpass

Underpass (oil on canvas, 36 x 72 ins).

I have no real reason for posting this picture today, other than not liking to have a post with no image attached. This is a painting of an underpass in Newcastle and was part of my Degree Show in 2001. It's never been displayed since then.

I suppose a very tenuous connection to it might be made by my having gone to Newcastle today, but that really is stretching things, considering we didn't even drive anywhere near the eponymous underpass.

My friend and fellow painter, Allan, drove me to the rather scummy but today very busy Rye Hill campus car park to wait for the arrival of Mike Challoner's Picture Post courier van. After a while I waved goodbye to four paintings and a chunk of cash. Mike has taken two of my pictures for submission to the NEAC Open Exhibition and two for submission to the ROI Open Exhibitions at the Mall Galleries in London.

Last year I had a go at getting into the Threadneedle Prize, but failed. I determined then to keep plugging away at other open exhibitions, and this is the first opportunity I've had to do so. I have to admit that watching the money drain away is a bit dispiriting: if nothing comes of these submissions, I'll be at least £175 out of pocket. There's a limit to how often I can afford that outlay, but as my cheery window cleaner assured me on Friday, "If you don't buy a scratchcard, you won't win".

Newcastle, East and West

Newcastle, West of the Tyne Bridge
(Oil on 3 MDF panels, 24 x 144 ins)


Newcastle, East of the Tyne Bridge
(Oil on 2 MDF panels, 24 x 96 ins)

Each time I go to the RVI, I experience a sense of irony as I pass the Ophthalmolgy Department's casualty waiting room, because each time I catch a glimpse of two of my paintings. They're quite big - 2 x 12 feet and 2 x 8 feet - and hang in the corner of the room.

The paintings were commissioned as part of an Arts Lottery Project in 1997/98 and as Germaine Stanger, the Arts Consultant on the Project put it in her booklet:

The paintings in casualty are very popular as you would expect, for the subject matter and style of painting makes them instantly recognised by a partisan Geordie public. But some comments are not about the subject matter but how it is painted and show a well deserved appreciation.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to take decent photographs of the works when they were originally first hung, because Health & Safety insisted on acrylic glazing being put over them which made photography impossible. Fears of painting sabotage proving unsubstantiated, the acrylic was taken off the following year and I should have photographed them when I supervised that, but I didn't. Time passed and the urge to get a proper record faded., but my enforced renewed association with the place makes me think i should go in when the waiting room is quiet (whenever that might be!) and take some decent photographs.

Meanwhile, I remembered Germaine's booklet and scanned these images from those printed (very small!) in it. There's also a photo of me (much bigger, in too many ways) in the studio:


"Harry Bell in his studio in Gateshead"

The full text of Germaine's article can now be found in the Reviews section of my website.

RV Eye

Marker with Photoshop colour

After some weeks of remembering to routinely put three drops from two bottles into my left eye in the right order each day, I went to the RVI today for a check-up. The pressure in both eyes now registers as normal, so hurrah! Most of the time, I've been quite blasé about the potential seriousness of the condition, but occasionally I'd secretly admit to a little worry or two.

Anyway, although the drops regimen has to continue for another four months (at least), I feel happier about it now and more able to concentrate on painting.

The Man Who Came Back in the Cold

The Side, with Snow (work in progress)

Funny, isn't it? I come back from Croatia where the sun shone and the temperature was on average 25C, and it takes only a few days of miserable, grey, wet and cold England to get me thinking about my snow pictures again.

Yesterday I found time to make some modifications to this one, working over the snow, defining the buildings a little and beginning to sort out the chimneys in the foreground. Feels like lots more to do, however, so I'd best get a move on.

When in Doubt, Draw a Tree

Trees, Kastel Gomilica (0.5 fibretip, A4 sketchbook)

There were a million and one things I might have drawn in our week in Croatia, but there never seemed to be time. I did promise myself that I'd get one drawing done in my sketchbook, however, so on the last full day there, Pat and I walked along the Kastela coast to Kastel Gomilica.

Kastel Gomilica is one of the last little towns we'd not walked to to previously and it certainly lives up to its guidebook reputation of being one of the most picturesque. It doesn't reward visitors with copious eating and drinking stops, however, so after feeling a little faint, we made a short detour up to the main road to find a baker's shop, bought a croissant for Pat and a börek for me, then walked back to the sea front to eat them.

Afterwards, I thought about drawing the old kastel (built by Benedictine nuns in 16th C) but I knew I didn't really have the time to do it justice, so, while Pat sat in the sun and watched two elderly men parade up and down the seafront dressed in nothing but rather small Speedos, I spent what time was available sitting in the shade drawing these two aged cypress trees.

Old Drawings #61

Beyond Lemba (Charcoal, compressed charcoal on cartridge paper, 60 x 60 cms.)

This was the second large drawing I made based on the curious wall round the Cyprus College of Art. Things seemed to be going really well, I thought, and I continued with a second large painting of the same subject, working on it at the same time as the painting already posted here.



Beyond Lemba (Oil and collage on board, 60 x 48 ins)

"Great!" said the MA student in the adjoining studio. "You should try not to be simply The Man Who Paints Newcastle."

Ah, if only. Unfortunately, the market locally calls for paintings of Newcastle and until I can establish a greater presence outside the area, I may have to ensure the greater part of my output continues to be Tyneside oriented.

Rob & Caz

On the beach below Highcliffe Castle

Sometimes, painting just has to take a back seat. Over the weekend, Pat's younger son, Robert, married his fiancee, Caroline, at Highcliffe Castle. Pat and I flew from Newcastle to Southampton to join them and a thoroughly wonderful time was had by all. They're a great couple and I wish them all the very best.

Only a few days and we're off again: back to Croatia for a week. A drawing in a sketchbook may be made there, but I'm not overly optimistic that many more pages will be filled. But we will have a good time.

And then it's back to work in real earnest.

Snow - Outlook Clearer

The Side with Snow (work in progress)

More information came to light today about the "winter" show. I now have a clearer idea of what will be needed and how much work I need to get done by November.

I've been mulling over how I wanted to this painting to be; mulling so much that it's taken until today to get it started. It's a view from the Tyne Bridge looking down on the buildings of The Side; a view I've tackled many times before, but never with snow. It always surprises me that the end result is so different from each previous painting of the same subject. At the moment, I'm a little puzzled by the overall look of the painting. Not at all like my usual style, but as the work progresses, I dare say it'll fall more into line.

Old Drawings #60

Lemba (Charcoal, compressed charcoal on 60 x 60 cm cartridge paper)

This was the next drawing based on the wall at Lemba College of Art. I was getting quite excited about the turn my work had taken at this point and began to make plans to construct still life set-ups of random junk from which to make drawings.

Meanwhile, I started a painting based on this drawing. It drew no comment from any of the lecturers and as it was nearing the end of term, I think it was abandoned rather than finished (although not a lot more was planned on it).



Lemba (Oil and collage on board, 60 x 48 ins.)

Back Porch Rebuilt

It may be architecturally unimpressive, but I'm delighted with my new porch.

When the winds blew in across the Valley from the north, it terrified me to go outside and down the stairs to my studio, all the time listening to the glass in the porch windows shake and rattle. I was convinced that one day the glass would shatter and take off my head. OK, I admit I watch too many slasher horror movies, but the thought persisted.

So it was a great relief to have Alan the Joiner come along, take out the old frames and insert some sturdy new ones. Not actually an easy task single-handed, given that above the wooden frames are three courses of brick and a flat roof, but he solved the problem by holding up the bricks and roof with some Acro Props.

All of which is by way of explaining why, yet again, I've managed to get no work done. As Alan was working on the porch, I couldn't get out to the stairs to the studio.

Night Station 2

Night Station 2 (oil on canvas, 18 x 24 ins.)

One done, one still under construction:


By the Tracks (work in progress)

Back to a Winter Frame of Mind

By the Tracks (work in progress)

Agonising over what to do for the upcoming Xmas show has held me up considerably in the last few weeks. Yesterday I decided to spend some time stacking paintings that have accumulated round the studio, but as I did so, I came across a painting I started for the show at Red Box last year. I ran out of time to finish it for that exhibition and was eventually unsure whether or not to abandon it altogether and paint over it.

I suddenly realised that, by taking a different approach to it, I might turn it into a valid Winter painting. A couple of hours later I felt that my optimism for the painting (and by association for the Xmas show) had returned.

Old Drawings #59

Small Lemba Drawing (Charcoal on cartridge paper)

Despite my reservations about the first trip to Cyprus, I returned to Paphos in 2000. I still didn't like it much, but a visit to the Cyprus College of Art at Lemba did pique my interest.

For some years the students at the College had been building and adding to a strange wall round the edge of the yard. Made of concrete, wire, bottles and general junk, it was a fascinating structure and it led me to produce some drawings. This was the first.

My interest was such that I immediately made this painting from the drawing. As was always the case at Uni, no one expressed any interest in either the painting or the drawing and I came to believe that it was in some way wrong.

Looking at it now, I realise that it was, as I secretly suspected then, an interesting direction I could have taken. Another nail in the coffin of my University course.



Organic Form, Lemba (Oil on blockboard, 21 x 22 ins)

Star Gazing

A rare return to a cartoon for Ilustration Friday. It was drawn with a fine point marker and coloured in Photoshop, for the set theme, Star Gazing.

It comes at a time when the Perseid meteor showers have been shooting through the earth's atmosphere. As usual, the clouds moved in after sunset in the north east to ensure the display was hidden. Perhaps they're only available on pay-per-view.

Courtyard with Watermelon

Courtyard with Watermelon
(Oil on board, dimensions unknown) Private Collection

In this time of painterly inactivity, I've been doing useful things, like sorting through photographs and ephemera. As a result, I've begun to find images of paintings I sold before I could photograph them. It's quite a pleasant surprise to be reminded of long-lost "masterpieces."

I recovered this image from a poster for my solo exhibition, Aphrodite's Island (Gallagher & Turner Gallery, Newcastle upon Tyne, 2000). Before I went to Cyprus for the first time, I'd promised to put on a show of paintings based on that trip, but the making of suitable pictures proved a nightmare. I didn't much care for the part of Cyprus I was in (we were staying just outside Paphos): it was dry and dusty, and given over to not very inspiring agriculture, so my source of imagery was very limited.

This picture ran aground when I found I had a painting of two doors in a not-very-interesting empty courtyard and not much else. For a while it sat in a corner of the studio and glared until something suggested itself to me. I had a small drawing (now lost) of a slice of watermelon which I realised made an inverted echo of the rounded arches of the doorways.

When I'd added the watermelon to the painting, it became one of my favourites in the show; it went onto the poster and sold at the preview.

Old Drawings #58

Collapsed Ceiling 2 (charcoal and pastel, A1 cartridge paper)

This drawing is so like the previous one that it seems daft to wait a while before posting it. Even now I'm surprised by how similar the two are.

I don't often follow up a charcoal drawing with one in pastel of the same subject, but this time I was trying to work out whether I wanted to make painting of it. I never did make up my mind and the painting didn't get made.

Old Drawings #57

Collapsed Ceiling, Cyprus
(charcoal, compressed charcoal, A1 cartridge paper)

The last Old Drawing I posted was of a building I found in Cyprus with a collapsed ceiling. This is the same building, the same collapsed ceiling. The huge slabs of concrete were still attached by the reinforcing rods and swayed slightly in the wind.

Coincidentally, in that post I mentioned that I was having problems with my left eye. It's turned out that I have ocular hypertension in that eye. Luckily, there's been no damage done so far and I'm now on a course of drops whose potential side effects are too horrible to mention.

This may account for my less than full time attention to painting at the moment.

Nest Forms

Nest Forms (etching, 12.5 x 21 cms)

Another week without painting. In a spirit of a glass half full, let's call it a period of retrenchment and reconsideration, rather than a block.

Some time ago I made myself a promise to have framed a small collection of prints I made at University. The actual framing has taken much longer than anticipated, but yesterday I collected them from Gallagher & Turner, the framers who've framed almost all of my work since I began to get serious about it.

This etching has always been a favourite of mine. It shows the influence of Graham Sutherland, I think, which is unsurprising given that I was about to write my dissertation on his Pembrokeshire landscapes. It was based on some drawings I did in what was then the Hancock Museum but which has now become part of the Great North Museum:.

Here's a relevant page from my sketchbook;


Bird objects (Rotring Art Pen in A4 sketchbook)

Guest Blog

It's been a busy time, with last weekend taken up with Pat's Mum's 90th birthday. I was going to write something about it, but then thought Pat could do it just as well, if not better:



My last week has been taken up helping my Mum celebrate her 90th. She has been high as a kite all week and has thoroughly enjoyed being the centre of attention.

Saturday was the actual birthday and we all, (Harry & I, my sons and partners, my brother and his wife, their sons, partners and daughter, 15 altogether) had a slap up lunch at Headlam Hall.

Headlam Hall

She had a (real) birthday cake, (plastic) tiara and magenta feather boa which she wore with aplomb.


Tiara and a Boa

Luckily the weather was fine and we could move out into the gardens afterwards and take loads of photographs. She was thrilled to have all her family around her, all getting on with each other and looking so happy.

We left her on Sunday surrounded by flowers and plants, and every inch of space covered in cards.

I was back on Tuesday for Wednesday's buffet lunch party at the local pub for some other family members, friends and neighbours. She still didn't flag, but moved around from table to table talking to everyone, then out in the garden for more photographs.

She now has more presents than she knows what to do with, enough plants and flowers to open her own shop and over fifty cards. She also has a whole new lease of life. On Wednesday she announced that she would see everyone again in ten years time, and I suspect she could be right.

-- Pat Mailer

Bands of Colour

Orange House (work in progress)

As Casey Klahn pointed out in his comment on Black Ship and Mosque, Chania, there's a certain attraction in compositions that consist of relatively simple bands of blue sandwiching a band of coloured complexity. At least, I think they're attractive and I'm pleased at least one other person sees it that way.

I find the concept so interesting that I've been looking for further examples of it to work through and for variations on the theme. This is a variation in that the sandwiching has been turned on its side and there are now vertical bands of wall sandwiching the main subject of the painting, the Orange House. Although it may be less obvious, the recently started painting Archway, is also derived from this thinking. Development of the painting may make it more obvious in due course.

In the case of these paintings, of course, the walls are not quite as featureless as the bands of sea in the earlier pictures, but it's not impossible that further paintings on this theme might produce plainer walls. Oh, a painter's life can be so exciting in its possibilities ....