As with all 2D art it’s all about creating the illusion that water is real. This requires a great deal of study and observation.

During my 12-month trip I have been privileged to see some spectacular seas, rivers and waterfalls. I expect that some will feature in my major exhibition in March 2013.

Portraying moving water is the greatest challenge, but reflections can be at times, quite testing. Reflections need to be accurate, not guessed. To ensure that you have the reflection right, simply turn your painting upside down. You will soon notice if you are successful. Sometimes these paintings look better upside down!

From the top:

Image 1: Waves are brilliant subjects, but you need to spend time visiting beaches and headlands to just stare at the way they form and roll. This is not guess work, you need to be ‘real’. Watch and take plenty of photos, each wave is different.

Image 2: Tumbling water with the minimum of detail.

Image 3: Smooth and bubbling water from a small stream make an interesting subject.  I like the balance between stillness and movement.

Image 4: A still day on a lake, where peace is easily found.

Image 5: A highland stream where gentle ripples are numerous.

Image 6: A rock-strewn river where water cascades.

Image 7: A quiet lake backwater. It’s important to ensure that the reflections are accurate. This is a very ‘still’ scene with a feeling of depth. Light is in the foreground, shade in the background.

Image 8: Sunset and low tide on a beach far away from the madding crowd. The colours of the sky (angled strokes) are reflected in the water (horizontal strokes).

Image 9: A lowland stream where the river is only partly visible.

More examples on Wednesday

Richard

I know I have posted this digital drawing before, but I thought it deserved an encore feature.

This artwork was entered in an art competition that was part of a fishing Expo. It didn’t win, but it was the first sold.

I love doing this type of work, maybe I should do more.

Richard

In my early days, my art was about detail. Most of my paintings were full of information. Occasionally I would focus on a single subject, but that was not ‘me’ at that particular time.

Now that I’ve retired from full-time work and have passed 60, I tend to view the world as a highly complicated and chaotic place and I choose where possible, to travel in the quiet lane of life’s motorway.

When I was teaching art at Launceston College (grades 11 & 12) we (the art staff) employed a principle when teaching art to our students that is known as The KISS Principle – ‘keep it simple, stupid’. This worked every time, especially when students struggled with arranging the elements (composition) in their artwork. In other words, saying more with less is far better than saying too much with too much (understand?)

To understand a painting one must understand what the artist is saying. Too much detail can be confusing. There is joy in simplicity; there is also an intimacy that is rarely achieved when employing detail.

I have noticed lately that my appreciation (and understanding) of art is going through a period of change. I am now looking ‘inside’, rather than ‘around’. My work is becoming more abstract in appearance.

This shift in my art thinking will see some very simple paintings, but large in size. Simplicity rarely works when scaled down, it needs to be confronting and this can only be achieved by large-scale work.

A visit to the mouth of the Richmond River last week was one of the most (art-wise) confronting moments I have experienced in my ‘gap year’ holiday with my wife, Val. The river was protected on both sides by massive rock walls. Some of the rocks were huge and now and then enormous square, concrete blocks jutted out. I found these blocks contained amazing patterns that ‘spoke’ to me. I must paint some when I return home!

Do these images ‘speak’ to you? If so, what do they say?

Richard

Some artists choose to work in a variety of mediums and this can result in a change of style from time to time. This could be because of the medium itself, the subject or the way they are ‘thinking’.

Not all artists respond this way. Some never change and just keep churning their work out.

I have changed my style 3 times over the past 30 years. My first style involved laying down strokes of coloured pencil, influenced by Post-Impressionist artists. I was also keen on Pointillism, (particularly the work of Seraut), a style that has recently attracted my attention once again. I’m keen to pursue this style further when I return home to Tasmania in March.

The second style (featured) is a lot freer and spontaneous. I went through a period in the 90s when I rejected the patient work that I had been labouring over for the previous 10 years. I mainly worked on white paper, something I rarely do today.

My current way of ‘seeing’ is my third style and is a cross between patterns, symbolism and abstraction with a taste of symbolism.

No, I’m not schizophrenic, I just to experiment now and then!

Today’s featured images are a taste of what I was doing in the early 90s. I didn’t sell all I drew, but I was pleased with what I did sell and the feedback I received. I was going through a pretty rough time in my personal life, and this style suited the way I felt. There’s a great deal of aggression in these drawings, but also a release, even in some, a sense of freedom. I wasn’t afraid to use outlines. Many of these drawings were quick and at times, spontaneous. These are drawings, not paintings as is my current practice.

There’s no harm in change, but it should be for the right reasons.

Richard

There are similar parallels in art. Some artists choose to paint complicated subjects or give complicated messages through their chosen medium.

Many observers of art are easily seduced by detail. They love work that it full of things to look at and they marvel (and acknowledge) the skill of the artists.

But not all art (and life) is complicated. There are times when we need to ‘chill out’ in life and there are times when ‘less means more’ in art.

Focussing on a single object cannot only be revealing for both artists and observers, but an enlightening experience. We get to know the subject in ways that would be lost if it were amongst a crowd of objects.

Some of my art is highly detailed, complex and layered in meaning(s). There are times though when I like to focus on a single object. There’s a lot more to painting single object subjects, than simply ‘looking and recording’. Such studies result in quite intimate paintings that reveal the true character of each subject. Some are quite complicated!

My Enamel Mug series is an example of me trying to get to know a mug that I found on the historic property Cheshunt, a few years ago. It has featured in 5 paintings to date, with a 6^th waiting to be finished back in my studio. The mug is the subject of 2 of these paintings and has minor roles in the other 4.

I have come to know this mug rather well. I love examples of weathering, decay and old age, and this mug ‘ticked all the boxes’ for me.

I have been fortunate to win 3 art prizes with this series plus a judge’s commendation.

Now that I’m retired from full-time art teaching, I suppose it’s only natural that I try to make my art (and my life) a little less complicated!

Top Left: Photo of the mug on the day that I found it. The next 3 photos are details from much larger paintings. The bottom 2 are paintings in their own right – Enamel Mugscape and Cold Tea, Cheshunt.

Richard

Some want their work to ‘say’ something others want to experience the process more than the product, while others want to paint things that they understand. The latter is worthy of a blog post on its own.

We all have our reasons for our love (need) of art and all of them to a certain extent are quite valid (here’s another blog topic).

Personally, I look for artwork that has a message, something to ponder over and take with me. It doesn’t have to be deep, but I want it to make me think, not just stare.

I’m ‘over’ artwork that purely celebrates the skill of photographic reproduction. Art is not about direct copying, it’s about one’s own view of the world. Realism is only one of the ways we ‘see’. What about one’s feelings? Joy, anger, misery, love, sensitivity and awareness for example, are great sources of motivation in art.

I do however love the use of photo-realism in symbolism and surrealist artworks, because it’s what the objects represent that is important.

The medium you work with will often determine the success of your art. Take painting and drawing for example. Oils, acrylics, watercolours and gouache have their own individual characteristics, as do coloured pencils, dry pastels, oil pastels and wax crayons. Let’s not forget the ever-increasing role of digital art.

I have a favourite medium (coloured pencils), but I’m careful not to choose a subject that I know isn’t suited. I never want my work to have that ‘drawing’ look, I want a ‘painterly’ feel to my work, so I apply pencil using (brush) strokes and lay colours down side-by-side where applicable.

Why then don’t I use paint?

To be honest it’s more about my perception of drawing in the art world than anything else. I’m tired (actually quite angry) that drawing does not command the same respect as painting in the public domain, and I fear in some sectors of the art establishment. I have a ‘beat them at their own game’ attitude that’s what drives me.

I don’t always work in coloured pencil. I match the medium with a particular idea. Choosing the right medium adds both meaning to your art and shows that medium (we hope) at its best.

If art is a form of visual communication, then what we say is most important, but we should also take care to express our feelings using the appropriate medium.

Today’s images are examples of a theme on ‘Hawley’, a wonderful seaside village on Tasmania’s north coast.

From the top: 1. Digital image, 2. acrylic (flat) painting, 3. photo, chalk pastel, 4. digital painting,  5.digital painting.

Richard

I expect that in all, it will have taken me 5 hours to complete this drawing.

The paper’s surface doesn’t allow for fine detail, but it it’s great for working quickly.

I have enjoyed this experience and after I’ve finished this drawing, I’m going to try some Canson 300gsm white card.

Richard

Today I am not only featuring the drawing, but also its development at various stages.

The Liffey River (in Tasmania, Australia) is one of my favourite rivers. From its source high up on the Central Plateau, it meanders through pristine rain forest before joining the South Esk River, which in turn joins the Tamar River before reaching Bass Strait in Northern Tasmania. The Liffey is indeed a most magnificent spectacle, especially in its middle reaches. Dark rainforest, shafts of light, the calls of birds,the gurgling of water as it tumbles over rocks and fallen trees, makes this a very spiritual place.  There are even moments of silence. My drawing of a long, quiet pool had to capture a moment in the Liffey’s history…

Long Pool, Liffey River   80 x 60 cm, Prismacolors on pastel board.

Richard

The paper has rather a gritty surface and my Prismacolors were readily accepted. I have chosen a group of rocks from my trip to Darwin for my drawing. I am working quickly as the surface of the paper isn’t smooth enough for the fine details I often have in my pastel board work.

It’s an interesting surface to work on, but would be better suited to Coloursoft pencils or any of the pastel pencils that are on the market.

I shall post an update next week.

Richard

I have so much information that I’m getting a little tired of taking photos. But I must keep going as we have only 2 months to go and I want to have plenty of choice for my exhibition in March 2013. I have started ‘short-listing’ the places that I want to feature and filing selected works from which I will decide exactly what I paint.

Last week we visited Fraser Island and had a great day, with many photos taken of course! If you haven’t been there, you must pay a visit. It’s the largest sand island in the world, and there are very few rocks. How did I cope? Well, there was what is known as ‘coffee rock’, that’s the rock you have when you haven’t any (real) rock. It’s made from compressed organic matter (hummus) and it’s brown in colour.

Today’s image is a combination of 2 photos from the Maheno, a ship that ran aground on the eastern side of the island in 1935. It still needs a bit of work, but I think that it would make a nice painting (not the ship – the photo).

You can see photos of the Maheno on my photoblog, this Friday.

On Friday I ‘road-test’ some Canson TEX paper.

Richard