De aa)

Prema oe ru & x
ISBN 0-89134-225-? > se1-45

Watercolor
Fast and Loose
Fast and loose! That’s how best-selling author and
watercolorist Ron Ranson sums up his approach to
watercolor painting. To most of us, watercolor is a
psychological struggle. We’re so intimidated by the
white paper that instead of making a bold, confident
statement, we end up with a muddy mess. If you
want to loosen up and paint sparkling impressionistic
watercolor, this book is for you.
For Ranson, purity and simplicity are all-important
—and both come from a direct, sensitive application
of paint, followed by a determination to leave that
paint alone. He shows you how to overcome the
three factors that contribute to weak, fussy water-
colors: ‘‘a starved palette;’ the tendency to use too
much water, and—the greatest disease of all—
“fiddling!”
Ranson encourages you to capture the mood
and not the detail, so you work as fast as possible
to achieve the effect you want. He feels that the
most common mistake is trying to say too much in
one picture—that if you overload a painting with
too many items of interest, the painting will be
ruined. Using only seven colors and three brushes,
especially a flat two-inch Japanese brush called a
Hake, Ranson will teach you how to overcome this
tendency, simplify color, and get the maximum effect
with the least possible effort.
Next you'll think about tonal values —the single
most vital factor in watercolor. You'll learn how to
strengthen contrast between light and shade with
shadows that are bold and exciting by reducing the
infinite number of tones in nature to three basic
tones.
Ranson believes that a really good watercolor is
not a slavish copy of nature. The more complex the
scene, the more essential it is to simplify and unify
the details. Ranson demonstrates how to simplify a
composition by focusing on the center of interest,
making it the area of greatest contrast. He shows
you how to use sketches for ideas and photographs
as a ‘jumping off’ point for details.
Finally, Ranson walks you through eight painting
demonstrations — skies, clouds, snow, trees, wood-
lands, rivers, streams, and boats—teaching you
how to simplify each subject and capture its excite-
ment and help you make your own paintings fast
and /oose.
 Donated
By The
Red River
Watercolor Soctery
2001
 Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2023 with funding from
Kahle/Austin Foundation

https://archive.org/details/watercolorfastlo000Oronr
WATERCOLOUR
fast & loose
Ty
WATERCOLOUR
fast & loose
Ron Ranson
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Liz Madge for typing my manuscript and
Ann Mills for helping me to edit it. I would also like to thank
Leslie Moore, Douglas Treasure, Trevor Chamberlain, Roy
Perry, Jon Peaty, Mrs Edward Wesson, Mrs Angus Rands and
Mrs Peter Seymour for giving me permission to reproduce the
paintings in the last chapter.

First published in North America 1988

by North Light Books
An imprint of F&W Publications
1507 Dana Avenue
Cincinnati, Ohio 45720

ISBN 0-89134-225-7

First published in the United Kingdom 1987

by David & Charles plc

Printed in The Netherlands

contents

Introduction 6
Talking loosely 8
The materials i]
Tools and techniques 16
Tonal values 24
Composing your pictures 30
Getting into colour 34
Skies 38
Figures in landscape Ad
Trees and woodlands 47
Rivers and streams 54
Boats and harbours 60
Snow scenes 67
Buildings 70
Photography 74
Do’s and don’ts! 78
Demo | Greek island beach 80
Demo 2 Autumn woodland 84
Demo 3 Greek windmill 88
Demo 4 Welsh rapids 92
Demo 5 Woodlands stream 96
Demo 6 Winter scene 100
Demo 7 Lakeland view 104
Demo 8 Snow on the Wye » 108
My own collection 12
Index 128
introduction

Two or three years ago my first book on watercolour came out,

and much to my surprise and delight became a best seller.
This is another book in the same mould, the basic philosophy
being the same — to sweep aside the false mystique, and let you
know how much excitement there can be with watercolour
painting. So many of my students have said that they find it
difficult to simplify the subject in front of them, so I’ve
included eight demonstrations covering this aspect.
I make no claim to be an ‘academic’ — in fact ve had no
formal training in art at all. I started to paint in my fifties after
losing my job as a publicity manager. Of necessity, I had to
learn my craft quickly so went about it in an unconventional
way, without being held back by tradition.
Most of my techniques are in fact based on practical
common-sense and a bit of home-spun psychology — trying to
make up for lack of theory with almost unlimited enthusiasm!
Which is highly infectious stuff, and I can almost guarantee
that you’ll be itching to try my methods.
The title of the book says it all, Watercolour Fast and Loose,
the aim being to produce loose, impressionistic paintings
which so many students yearn to do but are held back by their
inhibitions which produce safe ‘tight’ work. The best way to
overcome this problem is to work fast with a big brush.
However, if you find that the paintings are not to your taste —
put the book back on the shelf!
Running watercolour workshops at home all year round and
also courses as far afield as Greece, Australia and U.S.A. means
that I meet and get to know hundreds of students of all
nationalities, who all seem to share the same needs and even
make the same mistakes! This book is based very much on the
things they want to know.
While many books show superb professional paintings which
seem to set standards completely unattainable by the vast
majority of their readers, those shown here can be and are
attained by even the late starters — with perseverance.
Perhaps this is best expressed by a charming lady workshop
director in the U.S.A. who wrote recently asking me to run a
course on the coast of Maine. Her list of tutors were obviously
the best and most famous artists in the States, but most of the
courses seemed geared to the advanced, experienced student.
Her letter finished, ‘Those of us who have been intimidated
need your help’ — I accepted by return of post!

A
A scene in The Lake District with
‘wet-into-wet’ rain clouds approaching.
talking loosely

One sometimes has the feeling that the ‘high fliers’, the
‘Pavarotti’s’ of the art world, somehow live on another planet
to the rest of us, who figuratively sing in the local operatic
societies.
As amateur painters, we may gaze open-mouthed at the work
in many art instruction books showing superb techniques and
marvel at the pure virtuosity of the Maestro, but often this
work seems to bear little or no relationship to the struggle to
hold one’s head above water in our own Art Society!
What this book tries to do is to relate to you, much more
directly — figuratively putting my hand on your shoulder to try
and sort out your problems, rather than blind you with science!
It’s easier for me, because I relate to you infinitely more closely
than to the hierarchy of the watercolour world.
To most of us, watercolour is a psychological struggle — with
ourselves!’ Just getting the materials out and _ starting,
sometimes requires a big effort. It is perhaps all down to a fear
of failure — spoiling that lovely sheet of white paper we’ve paid
good money for — why ruin it? We often put off that crucial
moment of starting to paint by finding all sorts of menial tasks
to justify the delay. Now, as a writer, I do the same thing! This
book was delayed for weeks while I sorted out drawers,
sharpened pencils and went shopping!
In my first book I talked of the fears, which most of us have,
blocking the way to loose, free painting. In my own lecture-
demonstrations I try to lay all these out on the surface and have
a good laugh at them. People come up to me afterwards, saying
they thought that they were all alone in having these feelings of
timidity. It all shows too, in the tightness of their finished
paintings — the reluctance to make a bold, confident statement,
preferring to edge forward tentatively, with weak, watery
washes, resulting in a completely anonymous, muddy
meticulous painting, with little of their own personality
showing through. It’s rather as if they’d written their signature
carefully and slowly, one letter at a time.
There are three factors that contribute towards the weak,
fussy watercolours that so many beginners produce. First, the
inexplicable reluctance to squeeze enough paint out before
starting, it’s called ‘meanness’ or more officially a ‘starved
palette’. Second, this combines with a tendency to use far too
much water, makes it almost impossible to produce good rich
darks, first time. Finally, that greatest disease of
watercolourists — ‘fiddling’! That dreadful urge to over-
elaborate, (I call it knitting or crocheting) on top of a perfectly
good painting until it’s ruined and cheapened. Almost the most
difficult problem a student faces is knowing when to stop — that
crucial moment when you’ve said enough and the painting
rapidly starts to go downhill.
This book is aimed at the ‘would-be’ impressionist water-
colour painters who really want, in their hearts, to ‘loosen up’.
To me two words are all important when producing an impres-
sionistic watercolour — purity and simplicity. Purity is the
transparent quality, so vital in a watercolour. It comes from a
direct, sensitive application of paint, followed by an absolute
determination to leave that paint alone, and not to ‘fuss’ it,
which is probably the most difficult thing of all!
Simplification also takes some doing because the natural
tendency for all of us is to add more and more detail. This may
be because we’re inclined to look at the various components of
a scene, one at a time. If you decide that the distant hillside is
what you want to focus on, paint it as you see it when you look
straight at it. If you’re concentrating on this area, however,
you'll find that out of the corner of your eye, the foreground
appears indefinite, therefore, handle this foreground broadly,
avoiding the temptation to make it over-elaborate. On the other
hand, if the foreground and middle distance are what attracted
you in the first place, then concentrate on these parts and let
the background hills be treated very simply.
Perhaps the most common mistake made by beginners when
painting landscapes, is that they try to say too much in any one
picture. If one ‘overloads’ a painting with too many items of
interest, the main aim of the painting will be ruined, and the
result will be a complex confusion that says nothing. Here’s a
very important thing that you should always keep in your mind
—a good watercolour results from knowing what to leave out.
This is far more important than knowing how much to put in.
You’ll find as your skills improve and you gain experience
you’ll gradually strip away the ‘clutter’ from your paintings,
and hopefully produce purer, and more direct statements.
Simplification is also trying to capture the mood and not the
detail, which means working, as fast as you can manage, to
capture the effect you want. Sunshine and shadow won’t hang
around and wait for you! The light on the scene and the mood
may be exciting when you start to paint, but might look quite

9
ordinary and commonplace an hour later. A very loose watercolour done
Don’t do too much pencil work before starting to paint, just from imagination with the ‘Hake’
and the rigger.
sketch in the main shapes. Often too detailed a drawing tends
to reduce the painting operation to a kind of ‘filling-in’, rather
like a child’s colouring book. Also, you may change your mind
during the painting process, and want to alter something
you’ve carefully drawn in. Your style might become stilted and
cramped as you follow the lines you’ve previously drawn in, so
let your brush do most of the drawing — it will then look a lot
more spontaneous.
One of the main aims, both in England and abroad is to relax
and instill confidence in my students, which in turn helps them
to loosen up their paintings. They gain this confidence by
learning to be in complete control of their brushes and
techniques. This is often neglected as most watercolourists
seem to want to give a ‘concert performance’ every time,
without bothering to do their ‘five finger’ exercises.
No one can write a beautiful poem without first acquiring a
proper vocabulary. One has to get down to the essential skills
of the craft, before one commences pretty pictures.

10
the materials

This is going to be a short chapter because the materials I’m

going to show you are few, simple and reasonably cheap to buy.
You'll find no expensive sables, beautiful colour boxes, and
various devices like candles and salt here!
In truth, the whole collection is a bit unconventional — but
then so’s my whole approach to the subject! Each item has a
logical reason for being there, specially chosen to overcome
most people’s watercolour inhibitions. You must judge for
yourself whether or not you think they’re sensible for you. I
have deliberately cut down everything to the bare essentials,
but trying to get the very utmost potential from everything.
This, of course includes the paints, which are restricted to
seven — but of course everyone has their own favourite selection
which they may have evolved over the years, and I certainly
wouldn’t be so dogmatic as to say that my own list would suit
everyone. What is important is that although there are only
seven of them I use the same collection whether I’m painting in
the U.K., Greece or Australia! I strongly feel that the fewer
colours we have to know about, the better we’ll get to know
them. Because there are only a few, we quickly get to know the
possibilities of each in relation to the others. However, here’s
the list: Raw Sienna, Ultramarine, Lemon Yellow, Paynes
Grey, Burnt Umber, Alizarin Crimson and Light Red.
I buy the large 21ml tubes of Winsor and Newton Cotman
Colour — much less expensive, and there’s more of it than the
Artists’ quality tubes, which allows me to squeeze my paint out
with complete abandon. I gave up using pans of colour soon
after I started painting, finding it too restricting and slow for
my style of painting, and with my big brush they would be
completely impossible. One can get instant response and
instant power from a large dollop of rich moist paint. There’s
nothing so disheartening and frustrating as scratching around
with too little paint! It’s known by oil-painters, too, as a
‘starved palette’.
I must say, here, that I’ve nothing at all against Artists’
quality paints except the initial inhibiting factor. If you find
you can handle the more expensive paint with generous
abandon, use it by all means.
Another psychological trick I play on myself is to buy boxes
of each of the colours and stack them up in front of me in my
studio, then I know at the back of my mind that there’s always
plenty of paint left. This can apply too, to that other

11
expendable item — watercolour paper.
Next the brushes, again chosen to make you and me ‘loosen’
up, and work more directly with fewer strokes. In my first book
I had four, but since then I’ve managed to reduce them to
three, each one having its own specific purpose.
First, there’s the flat 2-inch Japanese brush called the ‘Hake’,
made of pony hair. At first glance this looks a ridiculous tool
for producing sensitive work — but after a demonstration of
only a few minutes, doing tiny thumbnail doodles, new
students can’t wait to get their hands on it. The trouble comes
when they expect to use it straight away without any practice
and get the same result! (More of this later).
The next brush down in size is my 1-inch flat, made of man-
made fibre. This has an entirely different character to the
‘Hake’. Sharp and with an accurate edge, it’s used for painting
such things as buildings, boats and fences, crisply, with the
absolute minimum of strokes. I abandoned the 12-inch version,
finding I could get the same effect by tipping the 1-inch
slightly on one side.
My last brush is a Number 3 long-haired Rigger — my own is
Dalon Series 99. (It’s called that because in the old days it was
used for painting ships rigging). The long hair which is about
three times longer than that of a normal brush makes it very
flexible. It’s ideal for all ‘calligraphic’ work such as branches,
grasses and figures.
My palette was bought in a hardware store — not an art shop!
It’s in white plastic, usually called a butchers tray, about 12” x
16”, but I have in fact about a dozen of these stacked in my
studio. They’re very light, and provide plenty of room for
mixing the paint. I feel too restricted by little wells. You can'of
course buy similarly sized, specially designed, palettes from art
shops, but the main requirement should be plenty of space.
Now to the paper itself— there are so many to choose from in
various thicknesses, surfaces and prices! One gets tempted by

13
 My ‘outdoor’ kit, consisting of a
simple steel easel, collapsible
waterpot, plastic art bin and
palette. The spiral-bound book
contains 1401b Bockingford paper.

continental paper with such exotic names as Fabriano and

Arches. I’ve got sheets of these lovely things, all kept for
‘Sunday Best’. Recently, one of my students proudly boasted
that she’d got a drawer full of pre-war Whatman paper at
home, ‘What’s it like to work on?’ I asked enviously, ‘I don’t
know, I’ve never had the nerve to use it’, she replied!
For every day normal paintings, my own favourite is 1401b
Bockingford paper, which is much cheaper than the hand-made
sheets, and much less inhibiting! I nearly always use it in wire
bound books of 12 sheets, called ‘Langton Pads’, in either 12”
x 16", or 16” x 20" sizes. This is because it’s easier to carry
around and is instantly ready for use, without bothering with
such things as drawing pins, tape or clips. This also avoids
cockling too, because the paper is allowed to expand and
contract unrestricted, so I never have to stretch it. In fact I’ve
never stretched a piece of paper in my life — and I don’t intend
to! It all looks too rigid and inhibiting after all that preparation.
On these two pages you’ll find an illustration of my outdoor
kit ready for action and another one ofthe corner of my studio.
The outside set-up is a simple metal easel, with my pad on a
piece of hardboard backing. My little expanding water pot
hangs from a hook on the easel with this is my plastic
fishermen’s box. The whole lot can be carried under one arm,
leaving the other hand for opening gates — it couldn’t be
simpler! When going abroad I take the easel to bits and pack it
in my case amongst my clothes.

14
 talking loosely

Over to the studio — this set-up looks very elaborate, but

mostly consisting of things adapted from ‘finds’ in second-hand
shops. The white table is a plastic coffee table on casters. My
easel is an old adjustable draughtsman’s table rescued in a very
rusty state from a scrapyard. Now repainted and covered with a
plastic laminated top it’s perfect! I can adjust the angle
instantly and wipe it down at the end of every painting. The
Bacay silico chowine the original parallel rule fixed to wire holds my paper on the top
me orcdn ce ehtsintee board. edge. The water jar was originally bought as a storage jar from
covered with formica, with white a ‘Habitat’ store. A glass topped table has been made from a
plastic table and plan chest. flush door, on top of an old dressing-table.

15
tools and techniques

The key-stone of my ‘fast and loose’ technique is the ‘Hake’, a

2-inch wide traditional, Japanese watercolour brush. It is made
of pony hair, stitched into a long, flat handle. I’ve been using it
for some years now and it’s transformed my way of painting.
Let’s face it, it looks an ugly brute, especially when it’s well
worn and dirty! (There’s no paint or varnish on the handle to
keep it ‘easy to clean’). Some painters try it for half an hour,
then put it away and never use it again — there must be
hundreds of these lying about in drawers! However, if you do
persevere with it and learn its idiosyncrasies, it gives you a
boldness, speed, sense of freedom and looseness that you can’t
get with a smaller brush — mind you I’m shamelessly
prejudiced! It evokes a new attitude of mind, forcing you to
simplify, by its very size — saying in one stroke what would
have taken five before. You’ve heard the good news, now the

16
 bad! First it holds a deceptively large amount of water, which is
probably the most common reason for its rejection by many
people after a short trial period. Unless the excess water is
removed by touching it on a cloth or a quick shake on the
ground, if you’re outside, it dilutes your paint too much, and
your colour becomes weak and out of control. In fact the
correct water content is the hardest thing to learn, it’s only
done by trial and error. The second thing is that because it
looks clumsy, painters handle it crudely, whereas it must be
A simple study produced entirely treated delicately with a feather light touch to discover its real
with the ‘Hake’, with the yacht’s potential. Don’t think you’re going to learn it in an hour, or
sail lifted off by rubbing gently
even two, but if you persevere and get over the ‘hump’, you’ll
with a damp cloth between two
pieces of paper after the painting begin to love it and it will go a long way in helping you to paint
was dry. ‘fast and loose’. It’s very difficult to describe in writing or even
 tools and techniques

Opposite pictures, the way in which you can use the edge, the corners
A simple exercise done with the and the heel of the brush to obtain the various effects or the
‘Hake’ and the rigger. speed in which it can render clouds, trees, and foregrounds —
things that often get painted too laboriously.
The other two brushes are in complete contrast, the rigger is
a long, very flexible brush which, depending on the pressure
you put on it, can provide a line 4-inch wide right down to the
width of a hair! It’s absolutely invaluable in painting winter
trees with gradually tapering branches, fine foreground
grasses, and figure work. I’m afraid this brush too, needs a fair
amount of practice to control it properly, and enable you to use
the brush to its full extent. Try holding the brush not in the
middle, but right at the end of the handle giving it a much
Opposite and below more flexible stroke. If you want a tapering line you should
Two more scenes done entirely keep your hand still and just move your fingers — it’s the action
with the ‘Hake’, the light on the of the brush coming off the paper in an arc that gives that
surface of the water below was
delicate stroke. If I’m doing country scenes, woodlands, rivers
taken out with a dry brush on a
still damp surface. or lakes these are the only two brushes I use.

1D
 — . art
ap ae & EN yes! pee

When I’m painting houses, boats, walls, fences, anything

that has a sharp edge I use my 1-inch flat brush. When wet, it
forms an absolute ‘knife-edge’, and can be used with the utmost
economy of stroke to indicate such delicate things as the masts
of distant yachts or railings. Again, you should try ‘doodling’
with it for an hour or so. You’ll find it excellent for indicating
distant buildings, boats, or boat sheds etc. You can get a
general impression of detail without actually doing much work
at all! But don’t try to make it do trees — the ‘Hake’ is much
better for this purpose.
So there you have it — the three brushes, each with their own
tasks and use. Combined together, they help you to economise
in strokes, and produce the maximum effect with least possible
effort! Let me say here and now, in case you’re wondering, that
using these three brushes won’t mean that everyone begins to
turn out similar looking paintings. It doesn’t work out that way
at all, any more than a hundred identical pens given to different
people will result in a hundred identical signatures. You’ll be
amazed at the wide range of styles turning up at the ‘crit’ at the
end of each course — even though everyone has used the same
three brushes. The most surprising thing, however, is when
they compare these paintings with examples of their past work
they bring along with them. Against their very tight and weak
previous work they find a new sense of freedom and looseness.
Now let’s turn to the various techniques themselves. I don’t
much like the word ‘technique’, it implies a slick mannerism
which is the last thing we want. Most important of all, the
technique should never dominate the content of the painting
itself. It should be an unobtrusive thing that the viewer is

20
 tools and techniques

Opposite and below unaware of — just being free to marvel at the freshness and
Some of the uses of the rigger atmosphere of your picture.
brush shown on the right. The The painting should, if it’s to be visually exciting and avoid
river scene shows rigger work on
monotony, contain a range of different contrasting textures,
top of a wet-into-wet background.
each of which should complement the other. As I said in my
last book, it’s rather like an orchestra with the rich brass
contrasting with the mellow strings and the clear tones of the
reed instruments to form a complete, satisfying all over sound.
Don’t get carried away with any one technique, trying to
impose it on all your paintings. For instance, however much
you enjoy our wet-into-wet for its own sake, (I do myself) don’t
use it indiscriminately, or you’ll end rather like a singer with
only one song to sing!
There are no magic methods or easy ways of painting
pictures — though many of us, before we learn better sense, leap
on to tricky devices we’ve heard about, which just might turn
our pictures into masterpieces! These may include, salt, wax,
scraping with various objects, and rubber masking fluid. The
last one, I must admit, I do use, in perhaps one in a hundred of
my paintings, but only if I have to — such as delicate sails of a
windmill against a stormy sky. Most of these become a bit
boring if used too regularly, they’re really no substitute for
talent. The less you disturb the delicate paper with such
things, the fresher it looks. A watercolourist, particularly,
needs to speak through a sensitively felt technique, to give an
illusion. Not a slavish copy of nature, but your own
interpretation of it, letting your own personality show through.
My students are always restricted to one colour, Burnt Umber,
on the first day so that they can get down to the ‘nuts and bolts’
of their craft, often previously neglected.
In producing straightforward washes, with the ‘Hake’ the
main difficulty is that, initially, students don’t produce a wide
enough tonal range. On a scale of one to a hundred, if white
were one and black a hundred, most of them seem to hover
between forty and sixty, giving a flat, monotonous look to their
finished paintings. Rather than bore them to death with flat
washes, I give them thumbnail scenes to paint which absolutely
need wide variations of tone. Basically, using very little water
and a lot of paint you can get a very dark value, add a little
more water and you get a middle value, add still more water
and you get a still lighter value. It sounds so simple, but
judging that water content accurately needs much practice, and

21
 area

beecass
est

emp aR
eae
Seeks ee
 tools and techniques

Opposite and below I’m afraid many sheets of paper as well!

Exercises produced entirely with Now to wet-into-wet, probably the most exciting experience
the l-inch flat brush, used very
lightly and economically.
in watercolour, but the very name confuses many students who
put wet paint on an already wet sheet of paper, the result being
a runny, vague mess, completely out of control! What you must
get firmly into your mind, is that the paint only needs one lot of
water to be controllable. If there’s plenty of water already on
the paper you can use the paint thickly, almost straight from
the tube. It will then soften off on the wet paper, but still stay
rich and controllable — it seems to take two days to convince
students of this!
Anyway, that’s the main pitfall — now try it out for yourself,
if necessary copying some of these doodles shown here, but
make sure you understand the process thoroughly. Try also
some of the cloudy skies later in the book— they’re wet-into-wet
too.
Dry brush is in complete contrast again, and a good foil in
terms of texture to all the softness. First remove the excess
paint on to a rag, and then lightly and quickly drag the brush
across the paper. The paint then just hits the raised surfaces of
the paper. Even here you should be able to control its tonal
value — try a dark dry brush, middle tone and a light dry brush
— it’s all very good practice. I find a dry brush is very useful to
suggest the bright shimmer of sun on water.
Although I haven’t shown it in the materials chapter, a small
hogs hair oil-painting brush is very useful for correcting and
softening edges, used gently, with clean water and a dry rag to
dab with, it will remove small areas almost back to the white
paper.
I also use my fingernails discreetly on a damp surface to
indicate light grasses, or branches. Even my knuckles are used
to produce texture in the foreground!
As I’ve said before, each technique is there to interpret a
particular aspect — nothing more — so don’t get preoccupied
with effects for their own sake.

Pe}
tonal values

To me this is the most important chapter in the book, simply

because the ability to really see tonal values is by far the single
most vital factor in watercolour. You start with a blank sheet of
paper which has height and width — just two dimensions. It’s
your job to give the illusion of the third dimension, which is
depth, and you can only do this by using the right relationship
of tonal values. This is infinitely more important than minute
detail. A very simple statement will create the illusion of reality
if the tonal values are right.
Let’s get the idea of the value explained first — it’s simply the
lightness or darkness of an area, shape or object — nothing to do
with colour at all. When you’re painting from nature you’ve
got to be constantly looking for the difference in tonal values
between one object and another. Keep asking yourself as you
work — is that lighter or darker than what stands next to it? Of
course, in nature there are an infinite number of tones, and it’s
your job as an artist to reduce these, if possible to three basic
tones. Your lightest light, as a watercolour artist, is the white
paper itself, through the middle tones to the darkest dark.
A really good test as to whether tonal values have been used
correctly in a painting, is to photostat it in black and white. If
the artist has used only colour to get definition, and hasn’t
considered the tones correctly, the picture will look completely
formless and anaemic in black and white. A high proportion of
students’ work would, I’m afraid, show up badly in this test.
But, how do you go about getting these tones right in a
painting? The answer is to analyse the tones of a scene in
relation to each other and reproduce them faithfully. My own
way is to screw up my eyes very tightly — just being able to see
through them — this seems to make various tones easier to
understand.
The trouble is that most students are so intent on mixing up
the right colour that they often ignore its lightness and
darkness. What makes it worse is that they forget that their
washes always dry lighter, which tends to leave the painting
flat and lifeless. My own way of overcoming this, in my classes,
is to restrict the students, for the first part of the course, to one
colour — Burnt Umber, making them paint their pictures only
in this. After a short time they soon begin to understand and
increase their tonal contrasts, without having to worry about
colour mixing. They get this by widely varying the amount of
water in their paint.

24
 The next step is a tonal value sketch or sketches, which
should be done before you start any finished painting. These
can be done very small, perhaps two inches by three inches,
and very quickly, with absolutely no detail, just a strong visual
impression in either soft pencil or in washes of Burnt Umber -—
Try some thumbnail sketches in my own preference. Try to restrict yourself to just three tones.
Burnt Umber, using these three Planning the picture like this serves two functions — it lets you
values, holding back the lightest see the effect of the subject before starting the final painting
light and the darkest dark, shown and also, as the painting proceeds, it’s a reminder not to lose
in the two tiny squares, use them the important tonal value relationships, as you add all the
discreetly at the end to attract
details on top. The funny thing is that professional artists
your viewer’s eye. Lots of practice
like this will teach you not to almost always follow this procedure, whereas most students
break up your pictures with too usually skip this stage altogether, and plunge straight into the
many spotty lights and darks. final painting. To me it’s rather like going on a long,
4

ae aE SR ee eee ee
tonal values

complicated journey without studying the map first!

Now let’s go over a few of the most common ‘tonal’ mistakes.
While a stretch of scenery might look very bold and impressive
as you stand and look at it, transferring it to a small piece of
paper one has to constantly and deliberately heighten the tonal
contrast to make it an effective painting, and that’s where the
trouble starts. Most students use far too little contrast between
light and shade, with shadows that are.too weak and anaemic —
in fact the whole painting lacks punch and excitement. I call
this the ‘tissue-paper’ syndrome, because it looks as if someone
has put a sheet of tissue paper over the top!
At other times, students seem not to realise their own power
to alter. Unlike photographers, they can change a landscape
around to suit themselves — a few more dark trees next to a
white wall to give more contrast.
You can also manipulate tone to give better balance in the
picture. For instance, a dark building on one side of a picture
may seem to weigh it down. You can, however, balance this by
placing a dark bank of cloud on the opposite side of the
painting. A foreground shadow from an unseen tree is another
trick, to keep up your sleeve, for getting better balance if
necessary.
Now to a very important process in painting — counterchange.
It seems hardly ever mentioned in most painting books and
very often ignored by students. It is a deliberate painting of
dark shapes against light, and light shapes against dark, or to
put it in its most basic — a chequerboard pattern. It does happen
a lot of the time in nature and often in a landscape, objects
seem to be set against each other with this principle in mind. A
dark building may be silhouetted against a light patch of sky, or
a sunlit tree may stand out against a dark sky behind it. It
doesn’t always happen of course, but it’s part of your job as an Opposite
artist, not only to look for these contrasts of tone, but to be One common fault with beginners
is to make the tone of trees and
constantly and actively creating, and intensifying them, green fields the same. Whereas a
throughout your pictures — I call this ‘stage-lighting’. field, being flat, reflects the
The Old Masters knew all about counterchange and used it maximum amount of light from
constantly, just look at some black and white reproductions of the sky, trees are half in shadow
their work. Remember, used imaginatively, this principle will and the lower foliage is shaded by
give your paintings much more impact and atmosphere. that above it. When silhouetted
against a light sky it appears even
Now let’s concentrate on depicting recession in the painting. darker in contrast.. Apart from
One of the basic rules of tone painting that you must remember that, leaves are mostly darker in
is that light tones seem to recede into the distance, while dark colour than grass.

26
tones come forward. This illusion, of course, happens in nature
and you can observe it yourself on any long distant view — it’s
called ‘aerial perspective’, and it should be an essential part of
your painting technique.
As well as the tones getting lighter, the further away an
object gets, the actual colours themselves weaken and become

ez
bluer and greyer, with less contrast between the lights and Photostating your paintings will
darks. If I’m painting a distant hillside or wood, for example, I often show up your tonal faults.
nearly always paint it as a single flat wash, sternly resisting the Simply changing the colour of
buildings and trees is not enough
temptation to portray the individual trees. As you move further — they should also contrast in tone
forward you can increase the relative strength of your colour and counterchange with
and provide more contrast between the lights and darks of any each other.
particular object.
I nearly always paint my watercolours starting from the back-
ground of a scene, moving forward step-by-step to finish in the
foreground, painting in a ‘whisper’ at the back with a certain
amount of wet-into-wet and using a lot more strength and
sharpness towards the front of the picture. The big mistake
some students make is to dodge about the various planes of a
painting, often putting in that distant wood much too dark and
leaving nothing in reserve for the foreground trees. There’s
that terrific temptation to go back and poke some more tone on
a hillside five miles away, right at the end of their painting!

28
 tonal values

Painting recession in your pictures Standing out like a sore thumb, it completely destroys the
depends on using the right tones. illusion. They also forget that their distant greens should be
Usually objects appear lighter, pale and blue-dominated, and they paint with a much too
peace ee: contrasting, the
further away they are. Generally
yellow-green, which
:
again throws the whole thing too far
Be our ctronecstitones and forward. Try looking at the grass at your feet - compare the
richest colours for the foreground, tone and richness of it with that of the grass two fields away,
and weaken or ‘blue’ them down then again, at a mile away. So much in painting relies on
in the distance. actively observing and comparing.

29
composing ‘your pictures

It’s very rare to be able to stand in front of a scene in nature,

however beautiful, and be provided with a ready-made
composition with a completely satisfactory design. A really
good watercolour painting is usually a slight, but necessary,
reorganisation of the subject rather than a slavish copying of
nature’s own arrangement. She offers you endless subjects with
countless ideas for paintings, but it’s-up to you as the artist to
take these ingredients and orchestrate them into harmonious
compositions. The trouble is, though, most students have a
good sense of design until they start to paint specific subjects.
The problems of drawing and painting what’s in front of them
are so absorbing and overwhelming that organising the whole
composition gets overlooked completely.
A good painting should be more than just a group of well
painted parts. Each separate area may be thoroughly
convincing, but the picture as a whole may look unsatisfactory.
What it really suffers from is a lack of the underlying design.
There’s nothing that separates the professional painter from
the amateur more widely than this area of abstract
organisation. One often gets the impression as one talks to
students about composition that they either nod wisely, or
perhaps yawn behind their hands! They’ve heard all that stuff
before about balance, movement and unity in a picture —
they’ve even skimmed over it in books! But once they get down On the far left the composition is
to the site, with their brushes poised, the thought never seems off balance and looks as if it is
to enter their heads to rearrange anything, even slightly. going to tip over. The centre
They’re so concerned with the actual struggle to get things picture is formally balanced but
very boring. The one on the right
down on paper that they record exactly what’s in front of them is much more satisfying, with the
— even to the barbed wire fence! large weight near the centre
So this is a plea for a more critical look at nature — bend it balanced by the smaller tree near
slightly for your own needs and good taste. So often, when I’m the border.
 criticising a picture for being unbalanced, the student will say
Never divide your picture through indignantly, ‘Well, it was like that!’ So in future, pay attention
the middle with half sky and half and resolve to try and modify your future paintings according
land — it looks dull. Far better to
to these basic rules, before you start worrying about your
have either a high or low horizon
which gives a more exciting greens!
It’s a bit like the fact that everyone knows there’s a speed
limit, yet just take a look at the outside lane on a motorway,
you'll realise how few people actually stick to the rules when
they’re in a hurry.
Basically, good composition is largely a matter of good taste
— but to use this taste you’ve got to reduce your chosen subject
Be wary of duil, monotonous to an abstract pattern. So, what’s an abstract pattern? Try to
repetition, since it will destroy imagine all the details disappearing from the painting, leaving
spontaneity. Far better to vary the only the pattern of shapes plus light, dark and middle tones. If
size and shape of your elements.
the painting itself is well composed the pattern it makes will
~ still form a good design. Conversely, a poor composition will
never break down into a good abstract pattern, and all the
various techniques and pure washes will never make it into a
really good picture.
The more complex a scene, the more necessary it is to search
as
ee

for a pattern that will simplify and unify all the various
scattered bits. Without this pattern, a very busy painting falls
apart, into a lot of little pieces, like a shattered window! By
analysing this pattern you’ll then be able to project the feeling
of a scene without the fuss. Try applying these principles to
your own existing pictures and see how they stand up to the
criteria. It’s more important to be concerned with a good
design than with detail. For example, if you want to make a
bridge or a figure a focal point of a picture, design the space in
a way that leads the eye to it, but gently, not too obviously.
Curved lines are far better for this than long straight ones
which rush the eye to it too quickly.
Of course, there aren’t any set rules for guiding the eye to the

31
composing your pictures

point of interest — each landscape presents different problems, The viewer’s eye is usually led
but your main task is to tempt your viewer into your into the picture from the bottom,
but make sure you don’t lead it
composition. One way to attract attention to your point of straight out again. It should be
interest is to make it the area of greatest contrast. Every scene guided gently to the focal point
that’s worth painting does have a central point of interest, so within the painting.
concentrate on that. If there happens to be another interesting
feature in the subject, be quite ruthless in subduing it, so that
the main feature is without competition — don’t try to say two
things on one piece of paper.
The centre of interest is the most important thing in your
picture — probably the main reason you chose to paint it in the
first place. It’s the point of concentrated energy around which
your painting should revolve. However, never, never, make it
the geometric centre of your picture.
What makes a composition successful? The size and shape of
the main masses and how they relate to each other are terribly
important. If they’re all equal in size, you’ll have a static
composition. If the picture space has been filled with too many
little shapes, the result will be spotty and confusing. It’s not
only the shapes of your main elements, it’s also the shapes of
the in-between or negative areas.
Another hazard you should avoid is repetition — one of the
biggest dangers in destroying spontaneity in a painting. Don’t
paint four trees in a row exactly the same size. You should
actively and purposely vary their size and position. In fact, any
two or more forms of similar shape should differ in size. For
example, suppose you’ve got a large dark mass of a tree on the
right hand side, you’ll need a balancing dark somewhere on the
other side. It can be smaller, because a smaller dark can balance
a large one. If your main shapes aren’t too alike in size, and
your lights and darks are well-designed and balanced, the
chances are you’ll have a good abstract pattern.
A little viewfinder, made out of card, with a rectangular hole
cut Out in proportion to your paper is a big help in composing
your pictures. However, it should be used properly — not a

oy
 quick squint through it just to show the world you’re an artist’!
Walk around with it, viewing things from different positions
and angles before you finally get your paints out. You can in
fact, teach yourself quite a lot about composition and
judgement just by keeping the viewfinder with you all the time,
using it to practice composing imaginary paintings even when
you haven’t got your kit with you.
Finally, lock permanently into your mind that you as an
artist should take liberties — changing, elongating, moving,
reducing or omitting a shape or shapes if it makes a more
interesting visual effect.

You can often use tone effectively

to balance your pictures, and if a
scene is weighed down on one
side. Skies and clouds can be
manipulated easily to do this.
Strong shadows from imaginary
objects outside your painting can
also be used effectively, especially
in the foreground.

53
getting into colour

One of the most obvious signs of a beginner is often the

excessive and tasteless use of colour. With all their colours
squeezed out, they find subtlety and restraint impossible and
all the basic rules of design and tone are forgotten.
As my students use the obligatory Burnt Umber during the
first day — their confidence increases rapidly and so does their
understanding of tonal values. But then comes the time that
they’re allowed to use the whole palette and so often their
paintings immediately become weak and flat again! The
solution is to tread quietly and cautiously into this sea of colour
— learning as you go. You very rarely need to put all your
colours out to do a particular painting. Think of your entire
range of colours as a piano keyboard. You wouldn’t, as a
pianist, feel obliged to hit every note each time you play a tune.
It’s a question of letting your mood and good taste dictate your
choice and number of colours. Often, after looking at a scene in
front of me for a few minutes, I'll probably only choose four or
five colours to work with.
But let’s get back to the beginning, I’m not going to ‘blind
you with science’ and talk about the theory of colour — you
probably wouldn’t read it anyway! My one real ‘hobby-horse’
is my belief that most people, including myself, work better
with a limited number of colours. You then soon get to know
them intimately and begin to judge instinctively how they react
with each other.
A thing that students hardly ever do, but something Id like
you to do, is to forget, for once, about producing a masterpiece
and just experiment with colour for a few hours. Working on
cheap paper, learning what goes with what to make what, until
you can do it instinctively. It makes sense doesn’t it?
Back to my own seven colours, some of which you'll use a
lot, some of them only occasionally and a single tube may last
you a year. With each I’m going to give you a few ideas about
mixing, but remember this is only to start you off— learn them
by experiment.
Raw Sienna - my favourite colour. I use it in practically every
painting, preferring it to Yellow Ochre because it’s more
transparent. An ‘earth’ colour, one of the oldest known, it has
been used by artists throughout history. I use it often as a first
very watered down wash, for my skies, which produces a pale
cream colour, then graduate my blue from the top, leaving the
original wash almost untouched at the horizon, but more about

34
 this later in the book. Mixed with Light Red, it produces a
warm golden yellow, for such things as stubbled fields, or
mixed more richly for roof colours, especially in Greece. It’s
also good for sandy beaches, with a bit of Burnt Umber added
for the darker areas. With Ultramarine it makes a good green.
Lemon Yellow — This is a straight down the middle, bright
yellow; very strong and excellent for making greens. Add Light
Red and a warm yellow results, with alizarin a bright orange.
Burnt Umber - A very useful ‘earth’ colour, mixed with
Ultramarine it makes a wide range of greys by varying the
proportions of each. To make almost black, as in a doorway,
use it with Paynes Grey. It mixes, too, with Raw Sienna to
make a mellow stone wall colour.
Ultramarine -— this is a very strong blue so J hardly ever use it
without mixing with other colours, one of my favourite mixes
is with Light Red for shadows. It’s useful, too, for mixing
greens with yellow or Raw Sienna.

The seven colours laid out on the

plastic palette. In clockwise
direction, they are: Ultramarine,
Burnt Umber, Alizarin Crimson,
Paynes Grey, Lemon Yellow, Raw
Sienna, and Light Red.
getting into colour

Light Red — another ‘earth’ colour and very fierce — in other

words you don’t need much of it! A sort of dull, brick red,
which produces lovely terracotta colours with Raw Sienna. It’s
also good when mixed with Ultramarine to indicate distant
trees and mountains. It warms up Paynes Grey too, to produce
even more greys.
Alizarin Crimson — I don’t use much of this —a little goes a
long way. It’s a cool intense red. Greatly watered down it
makes a good pink. Mixed strongly with Ultramarine it makes
a strong purple, and with Lemon Yellow an orange. I suppose
my main use for it is to mix it with Paynes Grey for threatening
skies such as on pages 38 and 39 for the underneath of
cumulous clouds.
Paynes Grey — my most controversial colour. Hated by some
artists, but I find it very useful for mixing with yellow for dark
rich greens. Used thinly with Alizarin it also makes transparent
shadows. It’s very good for getting instant darks, but always
mixed with something else, like Burnt Umber — never by itself,
because it can dominate a painting. Also remember that it dries
much lighter than it appears when wet. I don’t use it at all in
sunny climes, but it’s so useful in England!
All the colours indicated above are permanent, which means
that they’re not likely to fade when the pictures are subjected to
strong sunlight for long periods. The only one that’s slightly
doubtful is Alizarin, but that’s used rarely anyway.
You'll see there are no greens there — I dislike made-up
greens as do a lot of other artists, because so often they seem to
bear little relationship to Nature’s greens. However, it’s very
important that you should be able to mix all the various greens
you’re likely to need from the colours already listed. Greens in
the colour spectrum range from nearly blue, right through to
nearly yellow. There are cool greens, which lean towards the
‘blue’ end, and rich greens which incline towards the ‘yellow’.
But before you even start to paint, compare all the various
greens of different trees. Some students don’t even attempt to
match the greens in front of them, but use a set mix, only
making it darker or lighter. This results in a flat, monotonous
and amateurish painting.
Let’s take a normal bright green tree in front of you. Looked
at a mile away it will not only appear paler, but also bluer or
cooler. The further away it gets, the more this occurs — this is
aerial perspective, and it’s a valuable way in which artists can

36
depict recession. Most students know this perfectly well until
they start painting, then they often show a rich dark tree two
miles away on the horizon, sticking out like a sore thumb,
instead of putting it in as a flat, bluey green, pale silhouette.
Thus leaving enough leeway for the strong, richer greens as
they come gradually forward towards the foreground.
Now let’s start mixing then on the palette itself, put four
colours out — Ultramarine, Raw Sienna, Paynes Grey and
Lemon Yellow. Put your brush into the Ultramarine and make
a patch ofthis in the middle of your palette, then add a minute
touch of Lemon Yellow and you get a very cool, bluey green.
By adding a touch more Yellow, the green starts to become
brighter. By repeating this three or four times, adding Yellow
all the time, you’ll find you’ve produced a range of greens.
Then start at the other end with a patch of Lemon Yellow and
by adding a touch of Ultramarine you’ll get pale yellowy green.
By adding more and more blue, you get back to where you
started from! When you add a touch of Raw Sienna to the
mixes you ‘richen’ them, as opposed to making them brighter
or cooler. To achieve a deep, rich olive green mix combinations
of Raw Sienna and Ultramarine. To get a really dark green, try
Lemon Yellow and Paynes Grey.
By now you should have produced a large range of greens on
your paper. You should also learn to ‘grade’ them down for
misty scenes, by adding a touch of red. You’ll soon learn to
enjoy your greens, rather than dreading them.
As I said at the beginning of the chapter, tread cautiously
into colour and if you feel overwhelmed with even the seven
colours I’ve mentioned, try working with two. I enjoy
demonstrating various techniques using only Lemon Yellow
and Paynes Grey. Another pair could be Paynes Grey and Raw
Sienna. Then try three, Lemon Yellow, Ultramarine and
Alizarin — the three primaries, then try four.
Your main task is to become completely aware and confident,
instead of hopefully and nervously mixing them, without being
quite sure how you’re going to get that certain tint for a distant
hill. Once you’re in control of your colours, you can turn your
whole attention to the task of depicting that beautiful scene in
front of you, but keep your little tonal value sketch in front of
you. Don’t ever lose contact with the original tonal pattern —
keep referring back to it. Like a map to a motorist, it will keep
you from going astray along the way.

37,
skies

There’s nothing that lends itself so well to ‘fast and loose’

techniques as skies. With a big ‘Hake’ you can get a sky
finished in about two or three minutes, but you will need
‘know-how’, courage and a bit of luck! The know-how you get
by observation and practice. Although we see skies every day,
we are all inclined to take them for granted, scarcely glancing Notice how the rain cloud on the
up at them and regarding them only as a backcloth hanging right balances up the weight of
behind a landscape. the left hand trees. Here I
dropped a mixture of Paynes Grey
Skies can be some of the most dramatic happenings in nature and Alizarin on top of adamp
and their colour and cloud formation are often the major creamy sky and tipped the paper
element in a landscape. Although it’s possible to be fairly at a steep angle — gravity then did
arbitrary in handling some sorts of clouds, it’s essential to the rest!

38
A Cumulus cloud. I painted a know the principles of cloud formation so that you can
very weak Raw Sienna wash, and conform to nature as well as fitting them in your painting.
while still damp I painted round
the cloud with blue, immediately
Ideally, to learn skies properly you should paint one a day, in
putting the shadow underneath it all weathers, then you would soon get the confidence and skill,
with the Payne’s Grey/Alizarin but many of us, being human, wouldn’t keep this up for long!
mix. The most I ever do, myself, is to regularly look up at the sky
and mentally work out how I'd tackle it in watercolour. It’s a
bit like lying on your back and imagining yourself doing twenty
press-ups!
Now to the second need — courage — a factor very lacking in
many of my students, when it comes to putting in skies. Their
chief fault is timidity and I’ve seen thousands of weak, anaemic’
looking skies. ’'m always telling them you must frighten
yourself with a sky. Make it much stronger and richer than you
really think it should be, then it will be about right when the
whole picture is finished.
Another thing they tend to do is to poke about with them,
rather than make a firm commitment. They jab and push and
dab out until the whole thing has lost its freshness and become
muddy and tired — all through lack of confidence!
Ignorance of cloud formation shows up very quickly and so
many students drop patches of dark tone into the sky, hoping
that somebody will believe it’s a cloud. So I’m going to run
over quickly the three main families of cloud, these are
Nimbus, Cumulus and Cirrus.

39
skies

Nimbus clouds are harbingers of rain, generally rather low,

heavy looking and dark. You see mainly the bottoms of these,
especially when they cover the sky.
Cumulus is the summer, fair-weather, ‘woolly’ type — my
favourites. They form great domes in the sky, but do notice
their bottoms are flat. Being dense objects they need to be
modelled convincingly to look authentic. I always think of
them as pieces of cotton wool with a spotlight on top.
Cirrus clouds are very high, borne about by strong winds and
their shapes are like long drifts in the sky. They can behave like
blown snow, forming ‘Mares’ tails’ or in ripple patterns when
they’re called ‘Mackeral’ skies.
More often though, your skies will contain a mixture of all
three with even a patch of clear blue sky somewhere.
At this point it’s very important to remember that clouds
have perspective, just as obviously as houses or telegraph poles.
They appear to get smaller and be spaced closer together as
they recede towards the horizon. By accenting this affect you
can get much more depth in your picture.
Let’s start with the simplest condition — that of clear skies
with no cloud at all. Beware of making them look too flat — they
are nearly always much darker at the top, and lighter and
creamier as they approach the horizon. My own method of
painting, with my board at 45 degrees, is to put in a very, very
weak wash of Raw Sienna over the whole sky with my ‘Hake’. I
then paint across the top of the paper with fairly rich blue
while the first wash is still wet. I then work downwards with
horizontal strokes, using less and less pressure — usually
without any more paint, so that I get a weaker and weaker
mixture, and I let gravity do the rest. Incidentally, one hardly
ever uses raw blue paint, no matter how clear the sky appears,
touches of other colour, with the blue, will make it look more
atmospheric.
Another straightforward sky is a moderate overcast, with
layers of clouds covering all the visible sky. Here again, a
simple graded wash will do the trick but occasionally you can
use strokes of darker colour where the clouds are thicker. Add
these to your basic wash with a dryer brush.
Cumulus clouds are great fun to paint in watercolour, but
you must work at a good pace to indicate their shapes and
modelling while the paper remains damp. I begin by washing
in very weak, wet, Raw Sienna over the whole sky, which of

40
 course dampens the surface. I then decide where my clouds are
going, putting in the large ones at the top and reducing to the
small ones on the horizon. I paint the blue sky around the
clouds quickly to get the shapes and once these are indicated I
immediately put the bottom shadows to each cloud, basically
with Paynes Grey and Alizarin Crimson mix. All this is done
while the original Raw Sienna wash is still damp. Once that is
done sit back and watch the sky soften, as the washes blend
slightly. I warn you though, it does take experience to gauge
the right amount of water for each successive application.
Sunsets seem to hold a particular fascination for students, I
remember one lovely course on the island of Herme, where
This is a mixed sky with various
types of clouds at different levels. everybody seemed to line up with their easels ‘at the ready’ ten
Notice too the placing of the main minutes before each sunset. Get everything ready, with the
cloud to balance the black hut. paint squeezed out on your palette and when the time is right,
skies

start painting. Timing is very important, as you’ll only have

about twenty minutes to complete the whole thing. The pure
colours are very effective against the strong silhouetted forms
but you have to tread a very narrow path to avoid your painting
becoming too garish and crude.
One of the most exciting skies to paint is low, fast-moving Notice how the clouds appear
Nimbus or approaching rain, where the cloud sometimes smaller and closer together as they
recede towards the horizon. This
blends with the horizon, especially over the hills. The wet-into-
seems obvious but is often
wet technique is absolutely ideal for this. I use gravity a lot completely forgotten by beginners
here, as I do with most of my skies, which means that I always who make them all the same size,
tilt my board at a good angle. I find the rich mixture of Paynes near or far!
et a
I saw this sky as I crossed over on Grey and Alizarin Crimson dropped into a still wet Raw
a ferry from the Isle of Wight. Sienna wash steeply tilted produces a realistic affect. It’s a bit
The main clouds seemed to unpredictable, but that’s where the third factor — luck — comes
stretch and curve into the
distance, which balanced the oil
in. You'll see examples of Nimbus on pages 7 and 106.
refinery on the left. I painted it Successful skies do without doubt require a lot of practice.
from memory at a demo a few Fortunately, it’s easy to find a sky to paint at any time of the
hours later. year, simply by looking out of the window. Look at it quietly
for a few minutes, working out the most interesting features
and what sequence of washes you’re going to use. Then take up
the ‘Hake’ — draw a deep breath and work quickly and
decisively. Maddeningly, you always seem to produce the best
skies on odd scraps of paper, rather than on a virgin sheet of
paper — it’s all psychological!
Finally, remember this important maxim — a complicated
landscape needs a simple sky, whereas an elaborate sky calls for
a relatively simple, low landscape beneath it.

43
figures in landscapes

You can’t go through life avoiding figures in your landscapes

just because you're afraid of spoiling your pictures, Students
often seem to believe that they need training in lite drawing
before they can portray them with confidence — this simply
isn’t true.
You'll be able to get away without figures in many of your
pictures, but there are subjects where you'd naturally expect to
find people about. Boat yards, beaches, markets and _ street
scenes, all of these will look desolate without them. At other
times, figures will add scale to your scene or put life into your
landscapes.
First, learn to keep your figures simple, with the absolute
minimum of strokes. There’s a terrible temptation to paint a
figure in very careful detail in an otherwise loose painting, Just
because you’re unsure of yourself. Don’t even think of putting
in facial features, treat them as silhouettes, a dark shape against
a light, or a light shape against a dark background. Let them
also have some action and movement.
The next rule is to keep your heads small and the figures tall
and elegant, and don’t bother with feet. Making heads twice as
big as they should be is by far the greatest fault of my students,
and I can’t emphasise this too strongly. When I’m putting my
own figures in I indicate the head first, leave a little gap and
then add the body with a few quick strokes of the rigger.
Make sure your figures are an integral part of the scene and
not just put in as an afterthought. They must be in scale with
each other and the buildings near them. Remember, too, when
you’re painting a group of people that they lose their individual
silhouettes and become a single unit with a common shadow.
There’s really only one sound way of becoming confident
enough with your figures to make them look convincing and
natural, and that is to put a sketch book and soft pencil in your
pocket and take it round with you. Subjects for these quick
impressions are everywhere — people on the pavement can be
sketched from the comfort of your parked car. Don’t worry
about any of the details, just put in the movement and think
only in terms of areas of shadow and light and joining them
together. A few hours of this will increase your confidence.
The figures you’ve then produced are also material to be
dropped into future landscapes. The same rules apply to
animals, the proportions and accurate silhouette being far more
important than any detail.

44
 : 4
asrnnle ai nojetten ecnaowing tne
DADIS PIL BLUES Bb B10 Wille Lise
action retner then detail. Don’t
B0ti0n:. Teather (nan dciau. Von
y,
Gear typ Ly 4
4
nterrngnage
4
tnem wits
IVT Ze IODTEITCOZDEC (DTD WitD

DEM DACLZZTOUDaGS
TASS asta gre 4
“Weaeramaniig,

AAS A \\ ‘
ESTE!
 trees and woodland

Opposite To the landscape artist trees are indispensable — they’re a

A winter scene using the ‘Hake’ never-ending source of material for picture making. Perhaps
and the rigger. The distant woods
they’re so familiar to us that we take them for granted. Most of
are shown mainly as flat tones
whereas strong contrasts are kept us see them every day, yet most beginners in landscape
to the foreground. The shadow in painting have so little knowledge of them that they end up
the front also helps to show up making trees like green balls on sticks!
the distant sunlight. Students often think there’s some sort of magic formula—I’m
often asked, ‘How do you do trees?’, or trunks, or foliage. It’s a
pity, but there’s nothing so ruthless as the painting of trees to
make you realise your own shortcomings. If you’re weak in
drawing, it shows up immediately. If you’re uncertain on
colour, your tints will certainly be too green. Unless you’re
confident in showing vegetation, your foliage will be either
spotty or opaque! One finds a lot of students, after a few
_tentative efforts, try to avoid trees altogether if possible. They
prefer to paint something which presents less difficulties,
leaping to the premature conclusion that they simply can’t do
trees! ;
Even writers of art books are a bit reluctant to impart
practical instruction, merely saying to paint trees properly one
must study tree form, usually imparting more information
Note how the branches are shown
only in the gaps in the foliage, not
about the trees themselves than the techniques for producing
painted on top, a very common them.
fault with beginners. I hope the foregoing hasn’t depressed you, but I’ve still got to
agree with the others — that there’s absolutely no short-cut to
learning the basic anatomy of trees. You’ll never be able to
paint them convincingly in watercolour, until you’ve filled a
few sketch books with pencil drawings of all sorts of trees.
First, you should become familiar with the different types of
trees. It’s better to begin this in the winter months when their
basic shapes and outlines show. Unless you have a good idea of
the fundamental structure you’ll never draw them properly.
It’s like doing life-drawing where you need to have a knowledge
of anatomy before you draw the fully clothed figure.
Just imagine you’re standing in front of a tree. Look at the
growth pattern, note how the roots, trunk, branches and twigs
grow. Think of the overall shape as a silhouette, remembering
always that the growth pattern is inside the tree. Have a look at
the trunk, it’s thickness, texture and how the lower branches
radiate from it. If it’s summer, do the major branches show
through the sky-holes? Do the twigs extend beyond the edges of
the foliage?

47
trees and woodland

Let’s consider the two main types of tree — deciduous and

coniferous. Deciduous trees shed their leaves, changing their
appearance from season to season, each shape bringing a new
challenge to the painter.
One of the most common mistakes the student makes is
trying to paint the foliage leaf by leaf, whereas you don’t
actually see the leaves with your eyes. You see units of colour
masses. It’s only your mind that tells you they’re leaves. Try
screwing your eyes up when you look at it — it’s a three-
dimensional object, and must be painted thus to become
credible. It’s not a flat thing — it’s branches spread, not only
from side to side, they also come towards you and move away.
There’s a very common tendency for students to paint winter
trees like spread-out hands! Of course, in winter, the deciduous
trees show their character more clearly, once the branches are
no longer hidden from view by the leaves. When you’re
painting a winter tree, take the branches to a certain point with
a rigger, but don’t try to indicate every twig at the end. You’ll
get a much better impression of fine twigs by using very dry
brushstrokes with the ‘Hake’.
A common fault among students is to paint ‘conventional’
branches on top of the foliage, even though they can’t actually
see them, the branches are behind the foliage, feeding into it!
It’s just lack of observation.
Autumn is a dangerous time for tree-painters, it usually
brings forth a rush of garish paintings by students. The trouble
is that they make a// the colour too brilliant, with no contrast,
which seems to cancel itself out and what may be breathtaking
in nature is just gawdy in a picture. As for myself, when I’m
painting autumn scenes I prefer to do them on grey days,
rather than in sunshine, toning down some of those bright reds
and oranges, giving the picture a bit more subtlety. In fact I
like to wait until early November when some of the leaves have
fallen and there’s some bare branches and twigs to add variety
to the scene.
Now to the coniferous trees — those that retain their foliage
throughout the year, they have needle-like leaves that stay fresh
all year round. Although these trees don’t change much, their
environment certainly does, and they stand out much more in
the winter, especially in the snow, than when nestling in the
middle of a green wood. Basically, all coniferous trees have a
central trunk with branches protruding sideways all around at a

48
 sharp angle. Also they change colour with age, young trees will
have very fresh, bright green foliage while an older specimen,
of the same species, will be much darker.
It’s one thing to learn the characteristics of the different
trees, and learning to draw them, but you also need to know
A sunlit, misty woodland scene about how to introduce them into your pictures. One factor,
with wet-into-wet in the often forgotten, is the proper lighting of your trees. As a
background. I gradually added general rule side-lighting is always preferable to painting with
stronger and richer colour as I the light behind you, or painting into the sun —it means you get
approached the foreground. The
better shadows. The shadows can enrich foregrounds and give
left hand tree was finally painted
with the rigger, and the dry brush depth and mystery to foliage, playing an important part in
leaves indicated with the side of directing the eye and giving solidity to your trees. They also
the ‘Hake’. make interesting patterns and accent the textures of rocks and
age
Pe ON RES the 4g
in ‘
ash
trees and woodland

grasses, and the contours of the ground surrounding them.

Many’s the painting that’s be brought together with a strong
foreground shadow.
If you want to indicate the size and height of a tree you can
use such things as a hedge, fence, barn or even a figure.
In a picture where you’ve got trees in a group formation,
every tree must be exaggerated or repressed in order to obtain
the best effect as a whole. The larger the number of trees in the
group, and the further away they get, the less details in the
construction of foliage you’ll need to put in. Trees in woodland
are massed together and must be painted that way, they give up
their individuality completely to the group. Again it helps if
you screw your eyes up to eliminate the detail. Just paint the
patterns you see, the lights first, then the darks. Even further
away, a large wood on the horizon should be painted with just
one stroke of the brush.
I really enjoy painting woodland scenes, which I feel lend
themselves very well to loose, free watercolour. The technique
I use is to start at the very back of the woods, with a fairly
bluish-green, and indicate some of the far distant trunks, wet-
into-wet with a rigger. Then I gradually come forward, putting
in darker and richer colours as the paper is drying, so the
nearer trees become sharper and more specific, finishing up in
the foreground with more textures containing stronger, richer
colour. I try to convey the depth of the scene by contrasting the
foreground sharpness with the softness in the far distance.
To sum up then, once you’ve learnt to paint trees
convincingly, you’ve overcome a big hurdle. In general, look
long and hard before you paint them — simplify the shapes and
colours — add a small amount of characteristic detail — then
stop!

An imaginary woodland scene

painted as a demo. I worked
strictly from the back to the front
of the scene, with wet-into-wet in
the distance and dry brush work
in the foreground.

50
A selection of trees showing how
economical you can be and still
show the tree’s character. Note
how the trees lose their individual
shape as they emerge into the
wood and below look at the way
the tones lighten as they recede
into the distance.
rivers and streams

There can be few experiences in life more pleasurable than the

anticipation felt as you set your easel up by a winding stream, a
brook, or a rushing waterfall on a calm sunny morning.
Practically any aspect of water in landscape has a hypnotic
appeal for me — almost like a drug. If you were to walk around
one of my one-man exhibitions, you’d probably find seventy
per cent of the pictures contained stretches of water in some
form or another!
The ability to paint this water convincingly should be well
within the scope of every student, but so often it’s very poorly
depicted — usually through various misconceptions. Many
beginners, somehow, believe all they’ve got to do is to depict it
entirely with horizontal streaks, fondly imagining they’re
putting in ripples — personally I feel ripples are death to
watercolour!
While I’m talking about faults, I said in my first book that
probably the worst mistakes students make were to make rivers
flow uphill and to tip them over as they go round a bend. In the
two years since then — nothing’s changed — most of them still do
it! The secret is to look at the river in front of you, as a flat
shape. As you’re drawing it, compare it, critically, with what
you’ve got on your paper, letting your eye go backwards and
forwards, from the river to the paper.
Having got over my ‘grumbles’, let’s start looking at the
various surfaces of rivers. First, calm water, when perfectly
smooth, reflects the sky just like a mirror. If disturbed by a
slight breeze or a current, the surface becomes textured and the
reflections soften, and lengthen. As with many other things
mentioned in this book, simplification is the answer. Do the
absolute minimum to depict a river, remembering that the
water always tones down what it reflects. Colours are less
intense, darks become lighter and lights a little darker.
Students are always amazed at how little you need to do
when painting a river to make it look authentic. Whole
stretches can be left just as a flat wash, but the objects
surrounding the river must be accurately observed and put in
properly. The usual mistake is to change the shape of a tree
entirely when it’s reflected, or to move the reflections
sideways, worst still, to forget to reflect some objects at all!
Many of these faults occur on every course. The surface of the
water is seldom completely smooth and you get small areas
where a light breeze disturbs the surface, you can get this effect

54
A very loose painting of a
woodland scene. Note the
counterchanging of the right hand
bush against the pale, sunlit
distant woods.
 Running a course in Galway in
Ireland, my students and I came
across this unpromising filling
station, but looking over the back
produced the scene opposite in a
15 minute demo. Don’t spend
your life looking for the perfect
ready-made scene, the trick is to
make the most of what you’ve got
in front of you.

wer

by putting a quick sweep of a dry ‘Hake’ across the still damp

reflection. It’s always more effective against a darker section of
the river, for example, the reflections of a dark tree.
Water carried down to the bottom of a picture can look as if
its falling out! You can often counteract this by putting a
darker tone across the lower part. The trick I use for this is to
wait until the river has been completed and is dry, I then turn
the whole painting upside down and put a quick wash of clear
water over the whole river surface, then a dark wash across
what is then the top of the river, allowing it to graduate down
to nothing towards the back of the river. Once this is dry you
turn the picture upright again and you get a good effect of
distance.
My own method of treating a river is to leave it until last,
after everything else has been put in. I then know exactly
where my reflections should go. I paint the river more or less
the same colour as the sky, which seems obvious, but believe
me, I’ve seen yellowy/grey skies, with blue rivers! While the
whole wash is still damp, I drop my reflections in using strong
colour to compensate for the dampness already on the paper,
the strokes being vertical, not horizontal. If Ido decide to put a
white streak of disturbed water, I keep it to one, or at most two,
not ten, as sometimes happens on students work. They often
have difficulty where the river bank meets the water, this
shouldn’t be indicated as a hard line, but merely suggested at
different spots so that the eye can join these areas together.
You can introduce things such as posts, or even reeds which
can be reflected below with wriggly lines — again don’t overdo
this. Most reflections are almost exactly the same as they
appear above the water, an exception being the arch of a
bridge, here one sees much more of the underside in the
reflection than you do when looking at the bridge itself. Notice
this on page 59.
Although the colour of the water is influenced by what is
reflected on its surface, in very shallow water the bed itself will

56
contribute to the overall colour. A sandy stream will make the
water appear rather paler, whereas a muddy bed will make the
water dark, and the reflections will not have any definite
colour.
Whilst not exactly rivers, I find flooded fields in winter
which become enormous lakes, provide very exciting subjects
for watercolour. They often may include such interesting
things as partly opened farm gates and fence posts, which when
reflected in the water provide fascinating patterns. Another
thing which you should watch out for is puddles. A country
lane or track after it has rained can be great fun as a subject, but
again you’ve got to observe carefully, before you actually start
painting. Contrast the value of puddles with their immediate
surroundings. For example if the ground next to the puddle is
dark, leave the puddle almost white, showing an extremely
dark reflection in it. Leave the very edge of the puddle which
has any value of its own pure white, a quick flick with a sharp
razor blade after the painting’s dry will do this. When the
puddle is dark, it’s obviously reflecting something, so
remember, if there’s a reflection, there must be a source.
When you’re painting lakes and larger stretches of water,
don’t neglect the cloud shadows, these will greatly help to
create interest on an otherwise plain surface. Even with a river,

Dy
rivers and streams

you'll find that a busy cumulus covered sky will affect and vary
the surface colour of the water.
Let’s turn to faster moving rivers with rapids and white
water. When you first sit down and look at this it may seem
A fast moving river in Galway. I impossible to paint, but try screwing your eyes up and you'll
made a lot of use of the white begin to see a basic pattern emerging. Water in a stream
paper with a few quick strokes of
tumbles in some parts and flows in others, and you’ve got to
the ‘Hake’ to indicate the general
direction of the flow. Note the watch these movements very carefully for quite a long time
side lighting to show the shape of before you paint a generalisation of this movement. Even your
the rocks. brushstroke should follow the action of the water — we’re back

58
This was painted as a demo to simplification! Rushing water looks much better when its
during a hilarious painting trip understated and the absence of detail gives the impression of
down the Canal du Midi, in rapid movement. I’ve tried to do this in the picture on page 94,
France with ten students. Notice
how one sees the underneath of
reducing the surface to a simple pattern.
the arch in the reflection, but not When painting streams or brooks the mistake often made by
in the bridge itself. students is to try and take in too much, so just settle for two or
three rocks in turbulent water or a bit of the bank with little or
no landscape and water that’s quiet and slow moving. Where
foam swirls around the rocks in a mountain stream it’s often
best shown by leaving the pure white paper. In general, use
brushstrokes that follow the action or direction taken by the
flowing water.
It might be appropriate, here, to talk about the rocks
themselves. Students so often think there’s some formula for
drawing and painting them — there isn’t! Just remember that
rocks are solid. They have bulk and weight. As the top of the
rock faces the sky it gets the most light and the sides are darker.
The part of the rock that faces away from the light source is
darker still, so it’s always very important to find out, first,
where the light source is coming from.

ye,
boats and harbours

Those painters who say, defiantly, that they can’t draw boats
and avoid nautical subjects are missing out tremendously.
Wherever boats are, there are fascinating possibilities for
paintings and a unique atmosphere in complete contrast with
any other surroundings. To show you an example, imagine a
busy city street with bustle, noise and haste — all most
discouraging to artistic activity, but go down a few steps on to a
canal bank below — a completely different world opens up! A
quiet tow-path, a patient fisherman, a slow ‘chug-chug’ of a
working barge, interesting bridges, a woman hanging out
washing on a moored barge, one can hardly wait to start
painting! Do you see what I mean?
I recently took a party of ten students on a barge, down the
Canal Du Midi, in the South of France for a fortnight’s cruise,
painting and sketching all the way, except when we were
getting ourselves through locks, or drinking wine! It was a
fascinating trip with wonderful comradeship, but the most
memorable feature was the absolute surfeit of paintable
subjects around every bend.
There are lots of books by marine painters describing boats,
boat construction and equipment in great detail — very
interesting these are too, but you don’t have to be a marine
expert to draw a boat, any more than you have to be an
architect to paint a street scene. What you do need is
commonsense and a lot of practice! So we’re back to that sketch

60
A demo done on another painting
holiday on the island of Herme,
the sky is a simple one with just a
few wisps of Cirrus. Note how the
roofs on the left are counter-
changed against the dark trees.

61
book again! Make sketches of all kinds of boats —- remembering This was painted as a demo on a
always that good drawing is based on good observation. trip to the Greek island of
Spetses. It was a busy harbour
For the artist, harbours and marinas provide scenes of
with lots of boatyards making
constant bustle and activity. There’s always something traditional boats by hand, eye and
happening all year round, a wealth of ever-changing form, light skill!
and colour in ever-varying weather conditions, ranging from
bright clear sun, making the water sparkle, to murky fog with
its interesting grey silhouettes. The picture possibilities are
infinite.
Overhead, the sky is constantly disturbed by the graceful
wings of white gulls. When the tide is out, we see the green
scummed masonry and the harbour bottom glistens with wet
seaweed and slimy mud, exposing the rocks full of deep, rich
colour. There are reflections everywhere repeating the forms
and colours. I’m not trying, in this chapter, to provide you
with a ready-made formula for drawing and painting boats —
there are plenty of other books on that! What I aim to do is to
‘whet’ your appetite and get you out on that harbour wall or in
a boatyard to see and smell the atmosphere.
You ladies are not off the hook, either, though many of you
seem to think that you should automatically be excused boats.
However, one of the best books on the subject, Painting and
Drawing Boats has been written by a lady I know — Moira

62
 boats and harbours

Huntley, so you’ve absolutely no excuse now!

One thing I’m always being asked about is the tone of
reflections in still water. Everyone’s heard some rule about
this, but promptly forgotten it. The basic thing to remember is
that light tones reflect slightly darker in water, and dark tones
slightly lighter, making the tone values in the water less
contrasting, making the reality appear sharper in comparison.
Just like the trees in the last chapter, we must get to know the
A river scene on the Isle of
basic construction of boats to make them look right, and
Wight. The distant town has been
merely hinted at, and the convince the viewer that the craft is really seaworthy. The keel
warehouses simplified. Note too is the backbone of a boat and corresponds to the trunk of a tree,
the various counterchanges. so just as I said in the last chapter, when I talked about winter
being the best time to learn about trees, when they show their
real structure, uncluttered by leaves. This same principle
applies to boats at low-tide or in the winter, when they’re
stored in yards. You can see, draw and understand much more
of their construction. Afterwards, the knowledge you gain will
show up even when the boats are in the water and partly
covered.
One problem I’ve solved is that of indicating a distant white
sail or a group of white masts after the rest of the painting is
finished, and dry. It involves two sheets of paper, a paint rag
and some spit! With a small, white distant yacht, sometimes
very useful as a help in composition, I overlap two pieces of
paper at an angle and wipe the area between them with one
finger inside a moistened paint rag. Take the paper away and
hey presto —a yacht! If you want to reflect the sail in the water,
just repeat this procedure upside down. Masts are the same
procedure, but the paper sheets are laid parallel with only a
tiny gap between them, depending on the width of the mast
required. Try experimenting on some bits of scrap paper!
Now let’s look at some of the main faults of students which
occur mostly through lack of observation. Usually, they show
the hull too far out of the water, making it look unstable. With
a sailing boat they make the mast too short, as a rule it should
be longer than the length of the boat itself. The mast should
also be slightly forward of the centre, allowing for the big
mainsail at the back and the smaller jib at the front. Stumpy
A few sketches of various boats
masts in the centre of a boat look very amateurish, even done mostly with a 1-inch flat
childish, no matter how small they’re painted. brush, which forces you to
Rigging too, should be put in with the utmost discretion, simplify the tones and shapes.

64
Another demonstration on the usually just ‘hinted’ close to, and left out completely at any
island of Herme. This was the distance. Some beginners seem to be obsessed with rigging, and
second attempt, the first being
yet lack the skill to indicate it properly. I usually put in lightly,
ruined by spots of rain. There’s a
threatening wet-into-wet sky perhaps only one in ten of the ropes with a quick flick of the
contrasting with the textured rigger, or if it’s against a dark background, a light scratch with
beach and grounded yacht. The the blade of a craft knife.
white ropes were flicked in with a When we’re painting these marine subjects ‘fast and loose’,
Stanley knife blade. what we should be doing, is to make sure that our picture is
designed properly, with pattern and values arranged to give
interest, unity and balance. Try to avoid sentimental type
pictures, but look instead for chunky shapes and varied colour,
texture and pattern. When you’re faced with a scene of
complex confusion, with lots of activity all around, you’ll need
to simplify dramatically — because there’s always much more in
front of you than actually needed in the painting. Perhaps
make one boat dominant, allowing the others of less
importance to support it visually. Remember it’s much more
important to get the mood of the scene and the proportions of
the boat right, rather than too much detail. Provide an eye path
that leads quickly to the main focal point. Then search for
overlapping elements with counterchanging (there’s that word
again!) darks and light tones to give vitality to your picture.
Forget about the details at this point, after you’ve put in the
main shapes you’ll be surprised how little detail you need.

65
SHOW SCENES

Snow scenes are deceptive. They tend to look easy but to depict
them properly you must use keen observation. Be wary of
turning them into pretty ‘Christmas Card’ pictures. They
should be very well-designed beforehand because the
composition is even more important than in a summer scene.
Work out the picture carefully in terms of light and dark
pattern by producing tonal sketches before you attempt your
finished painting, not letting light and dark areas be equal in
size and importance. One or the other must be dominant.
Don’t get the idea that snow is pure white either — it isn’t!
White snow reflects other hues around it more vividly than any
other colour. To get colour unity in a snow scene, you must
model the snow using the most dominant colour in your
painting. For example, a warm grey cloud will mean that the
same warm grey should be used for the shading of your snow.
However, a rich green forest would tint your snow with a touch
of green. With a clear sky, the warm glow of reflected sunlight
gives the snow a yellow tint which is pale at midday and more
golden or even orange at sunrise or sunset. The shadows,
where the sun doesn’t reach, are coloured by the blueness of
the sky. The subtle contrast between the warm and cool colour
intensifies both of them. The colour on sunlit buildings and
trees will reflect in the snow, especially in the shadows — it’s all
very subtle stuff! This is perhaps even more so in an overcast
scene, where there’s a great variety of warm and cool greys. I
find I can get most of these greys by using various proportions
of Burnt Umber and Ultramarine — more brown for warmth —
more blue for coolness.
Shadows in snow scenes are very exciting, but you must plan
them carefully beforehand. Remember, they will actually
describe the contour of the surface they’re falling over, curves,
ruts and all.
Work out in your mind what you’re going to do, take a deep
breath and put in shadows light and fast! Then leave them
strictly alone! Don’t try to touch them up afterwards or they’ll
lose their transparent freshness. Ultramarine with a touch of’
light red is a good colour mixture.

A very loose painting. What

attracted me was the way the cart
tracks took the eye to the tiny gate
— the focal point of the picture.

67
SNOW Scenes

While the texture of the snow is usually smooth, it’s often

broken up where the grass and earth show through. I use the
rigger for the grass, and a bit of dry brush ‘Hake’ for the earth.
For the winter scenes I usually restrict myself to five colours:
Raw Sienna, Burnt Umber, Light Red, Ultramarine and
Paynes Grey. I must admit this was a 15 minute
indoor demo done while my
Winter trees are a delight to paint, one really sees their
students had their morning coffee
anatomy unhindered by leaves. The fine lace pattern of — not a minute is wasted on my
branches and twigs form a beautiful contrast to the smooth courses! Done entirely with the
plains of the snow. The rigger really comes into its own here, ‘Hake’ and the rigger.
What I liked about this scene was but I often find students are afraid to build up the structure
the strong contrast between the properly — they paint a trunk, add a few thin branches then give
dark rich tones of the stream
up. So much beauty deserves a little more observation and
surrounded by the white snow and
the calligraphy of the bare trees patience. Do spend time just looking at your tree before you
and their shadows. take up your brush.
It may sound obvious, but a single light source only casts one
shadow and that moves in the opposite direction to the light
source, so if the light comes from the left side of a tree, the cast
shadow is directly to the right. If you forget that, things can
look confusing. Incidentally, if you paint in the early morning
or late afternoon the shadows will be at their strongest and the
picture will be more dramatic.
Of course working on the spot with watercolour in the snow
can have its problems, so first try to choose a sheltered spot. If
it’s freezing a few drops of glycerine added to your water will
help, but not too much, or it won’t dry. Do at least try it, even
if you only stay for a quick sketch. The dead stillness and
silence experienced by working alone in the snow, gives you a
sense of peace that you can’t experience anywhere else.

69
buildings and streets

The very idea of painting buildings in a ‘fast and loose’ fashion Opposite
seems fraught with difficulty. Surely you have to make careful This was a village scene on a
drawings and what about all the perspective and the detail course I ran in Callabria in Italy,
with lots of interesting textures
required? The fact is however, that you can produce authentic
and colour in the walls.
looking buildings in a free manner, as easily as all the other
subjects in this book. A high proportion of ordinary landscape
paintings do have buildings in them, whether it’s a lonely
moorland with a single cottage in the distance, or a harbour
scene with houses in the background. A badly portrayed,
overworked building can really let down an otherwise fresh and
lively painting.
Let’s start with perspective — the word that seems to strike
fear into the hearts of so many students. Although whole books
have been written about it, the main principles can be broken
down into three simple rules. Firstly, objects in a landscape
appear to diminish in size as they recede from the viewer.
Secondly, the horizon is always at the eye-level of the viewer.
Thirdly, parallel lines on such things as buildings tend to
converge in the distance. The rest is mainly commonsense and
observation, here again, observation is all important, together
with continuous comparison between what’s in front of you
and what you’ve actually got on the paper.
Even before you do this though — you should have made a A simple cottage in Galway
counterchanged by dark trees and
little tonal sketch to establish a good abstract pattern of your
foreground textures. The roof tiles
group of buildings. You should choose a few main shapes and were indicated with the 1-inch flat
organise the main areas of light and shade to use as part of your brush.

. > x RS

-
i : ~ pa rN he

fpr tse, ena panen

: >.
mn
* oy ame a a

70
 bos
t
. ios - k { ?
SSA ESS S Z : : 4
:
}

i
picture composition. Don’t hesitate to make changes from A farmyard we discovered during
nature, if it will help your design, such as moving a large, cast a painting course in Provence,
France, giving plenty of
shadow across a road and buildings if you feel it will improve opportunities for textures.
things. You'll usually find the long shadows created in the
early morning and late afternoon, are a big help in establishing
this abstract pattern. All this is much more important to
producing a good picture, than worrying about details.
Once you’ve got the structure of the picture right, it’s amazing
how little detail you’ll need. Students don’t realise this
however, and their main trouble is always overworking — stone
walls, tiles and windows are painstakingly painted in, rather
than being merely suggested. For example, just indicating the
stone in about one tenth of a wall leaving the rest of it plain,
will enable the viewer to understand its whole construction.
Windows, too, are a problem. A beginner often tries to
laboriously draw in each individual pane of glass, rather than
showing it as a dark shape. If you really want to go further, you
can always give a couple of quick flicks with a razor blade after
it’s dry — this will break the shape up.
Perhaps the most common impression one gets from
students’ paintings of buildings is one of timidity, flatness and
a washed out quality, with not enough contrast and
counterchange. They show perhaps, the corner of a house with
two sides exactly equal in tone. The only way they can indicate
the corner itself is with a line, or as I call it ‘wire’. ‘It was like
that’ they protest, but if so, they had chosen the wrong time of
day to paint that particular building, or they hadn’t used their

1s
 buildings and streets

prerogative of deliberately changing the tones.

With regard to distant buildings, it’s amazing how little you
need to do—a few strokes with a flat brush to indicate the roofs,
counterchanging with white walls and a few windows (not all of
them!) and you’ve got a Greek village. The secret is
understatement and simplicity. The further away — the less
detail.
If you’re merely using a building as part of your landscape,
perhaps as the centre of interest, put it in the middle distance
so that the eye of the viewer can move easily to it, after entering
the landscape. In this case, avoid making it too large and
A scene on the Grand Canal in placing it smack in the middle of your paper.
Venice, showing the very loose To sum up, to give your buildings a feeling of ‘solidity’ and
treatment of architecture. I went
to Venice recently for two days
the illusion of reality you must keep the light direction in
and took over 250 photographs mind, and make use of the light and shade to model the form of
there! It’s a fantastic place! the building.
using photography properly

My faithful SLR camera with its

normal lens.

Photography used badly is a menace — if it’s used too literally it

can destroy any creativity and one sees folk in evening classes
minutely copying colour and details from photographs,
something much better done by sending the negative to the
processors. Such activity has given photography a bad name —
justifiably so! On the other hand, the camera used properly can
be of immense help to the painter. An enormous number of
artists work from photographs — including those who wouldn’t
admit it! And many of them do so with great imagination and
effectiveness.
A photograph should only be used as a ‘jumping-off place
and the next stage is a series of little tonal sketches to improve
the composition and resolve the values. To do this properly
you must first have had the experience and knowledge gained
from working on location.
One advantage of using photographs is that you can collect a
lot of useful material in a short time. Sometimes there just isn’t
time to sketch all the material that you’d like to take home. My
own camera is kept in the glove compartment of my car, and
many’s the pretty stream I’ve photographed from a bridge after

74
 7
20
4
2
45
=
£m

Zoom lens, and the way it can enlarge

distant objects progressively.
a hasty look in both directions! ,
It’s much better to use a combination of both sketches and
photographs, rather than just rely on the camera, you can then
use the sketches for ideas and the photographs for details. The
greatest danger in using photography is that you’re tempted to
include only the things that you can see in the print — and that
very important factor of selection and rejection which is the
major contribution by the artist may be forgotten.
I also think it’s important that the photograph you do paint
from should be your own, something that you yourself have
observed and experienced at first hand — this will help to give
your finished work more conviction.
As an artist you should be looking beyond sterile mimicry.
Endeavour to put your own personality into your work
whether or not you get help from the camera. I think that the
camera can be a legitimate part of an artist’s equipment as long
as the results from that are used inventively and creatively.
Let’s face it many of the Impressionists such as, Degas,
Téulouse-Lautrec and Sickert certainly did.
Having said all that, there are a lot of terrible photographers
around, including painting students! They somehow forget all
the common rules of composition they know so well when they
get a camera in their hands. A viewfinder can be a creative
thing in itself - the tiny area where you should be able to
exercise your good taste and knowledge, but I’m afraid that out
of every twenty pictures that are shown to me by students,
nineteen of them are bland, boring flat-looking efforts and the
The wide-angle lens and the way odd one where the composition is well-balanced and exciting
it can encompass a close object,
which would normally be too near probably only happened by accident! Students look through
to be included in the frame. my photographs and say, ‘You must have a super camera to
take these’, whereas in actual fact the quality of the camera

75
The photograph above is fairly
flat and uninteresting, but by
moving to a nearby bridge you get
the much more interesting
composition on the right.

The shot on the left shows a long

distant view which is very
impressive, but in the photograph
the foreground field is boring.
However, by moving behind a
nearby rock and foliage you get a
much more interesting sense of
depth as shown below.

76
 using photography properly

itself is, within reason, irrelevant.

It might be a good idea if Ican pass on a few helpful tips on
photography as one step in the process of forming your art.
First the camera itself. I graduated from the usual, simple
plastic camera when I capsized my canoe and had to fish it out
of the river — it was never quite the same again! Taking my
courage and wallet in both hands I went and bought a 35mm
SLR (Single Lens Reflex) camera. At first glance it was bristling
with frightening nobs, but after I’d spent an hour playing with
it I found it was almost ‘idiot’ proof. In my usual simplified
way I take almost everything at 1/125th second, focus it and let
the camera work the rest out for itself!
The advantage of an sir is that in addition to the standard
lens you can buy other lenses which can be changed over
quickly. This may sound daunting, but the two extra ones I use
have a definite and logical purpose, although most of the time I
use the standard lens. The zoom lens means that you can
magnify and photograph a distant subject such as a cottage
rather like using a telescope. The wide-angled lens means that
you can take a picture of a whole church across a street that
would normally be too close to get into the whole frame. If all
that sounds a bit technical it isn’t — it’s a lot less complex than a
cooker!
Having got familiar with the workings of the camera the
most important thing is the viewfinder and learning to
compose a picture within it. Don’t just point the camera at a
subject and press the shutter — walk around and look at it from
all sorts of different angles and arrangements before you even
think of taking the picture. Forget about that breath-taking
view from the hillside. If it looks boring in the viewfinder —
don’t take it!
The next thing is that, like your paint, you mustn’t be mean
with your film. You’re bound to waste a few frames even when
you do get competent, and you’ll need plenty of information
from different viewpoints on any particular scene so have a few
spare films with you. Walking along the river bank you always
seem to find the perfect composition and lighting just when
you’ve finished your last shot — probably it’s called ‘Kodak’s
Law’ or something!
I’ve shown here some good and bad examples of typical
photographs — study them carefully then be as critical about
your photographs as you are about your paintings.

77
do’s and don’ts
A lot of students say, that although the agree with my basic
principles, when they start painting all their good resolutions
fly out of the window — what they need is a constant reminder.
Indeed, some have listed a few of the main points and pinned
them up permanently above their easels. So I’ve provided a
ready-made list to photostat and stick up in front of you!

do’s
Do a tonal sketch first — to establish your values properly.
Do give your audience something to interpret for themselves — they
love it!
Do choose a simple subject — then simplify it even more!
Do remember if you’re going to have a failure — let it be a glorious
failure, and not a meek, miserable one!
Dothink hard before you put the paint on the paper — vot afterwards.
Do remember that, like golf, the fewer strokes you use the more
professional it looks.
Do remember that your job as an artist is to capture the essence of a
scene — a distillation of it — leaving out the superficial clutter.
Do set yourself a time limit, sometimes — it gets the adrenalin
flowing.
Do remember that washes are bound to fade back when dry, and
always compensate for this.
Do use contrasting techniques in a painting — wet-into-wet alongside
dry brush —- sharp against soft etc.
Do remember when painting on a wet surface to compensate by
using a much richer mixture of paint on your brush.
Do remember that a complicated scene needs a simple sky — an
elaborate sky needs a simple foreground.
Every stroke you put on that paper should mean something — if not it
shouldn’t be there!

78
don'ts
Don’t overwork your painting — stop as soon as your basic message
becomes evident.
Don’t make your foregrounds too fussy or muddy.
Don’t put too much pressure on your brush especially the ‘Hake’ —
think of it as a feather.
Don’t put too much detail in your backgrounds — keep them as a
simple flat wash.
Don’t let that white paper intimidate you — it can’t hit back!
Don’t use tiny brushes — they’re an absolute invitation to fiddle!
Don’t be afraid of leaving uncluttered space — paintings need areas of
silence as a foil to all the busy bits.
Don’t use too much water — a swimming palette denotes a weak
painting.
Don’t be mean with your paint.
Don’t make your heads too big when you’re painting figures.
Don’t make your skies too safe and weak — frighten yourself a bit!
Don’t forget about counterchange.

AND YET AGAIN - DON’T FIDDLE!

79
demo 1 Greek island beach

A beach scene on the Island of In the next thirty or so pages I am going to talk you through
Poros. eight paintings, not, as many books do, to show you all the
stages wash by wash which I personally find a bit boring (I
always feel the stage before the last looks the best!) No, I feel it
is more important to try and describe the thought processes
that go through one’s mind when faced with a subject, even
before getting the paints out.
I feel it’s your job as an artist to make a distillation of the
scene in front of you without any superfluous clutter. Perhaps
to dramatise certain parts and subdue others or to give a more
safisfying curve to a beach — not hesitating to move rocks or
trees around if, in your taste, it improves the composition. I’m
going to show you a tonal sketch of each scene in which many
of the main problems can be sorted out before you start
worrying about colour mixes and brush techniques.

80
 This first painting is a beach scene on the Greek island of
Poros (where I am actually writing these words). I bring about
20 students here every spring for a two week painting holiday.
Let’s look at the scene critically and assess it. Basically it is in
two planes. The first is the far distant hillside which must be
kept simple and subdued, with absolutely no detail (even if you
can see hotels there!). In the second, nearer, plane are the villa,
rocks and beach which must be stronger, richer and more
contrasting to bring them forward.
The villa itself is actually derelict, but I’m going to make it
more dramatic by building up the trees round it to counter-
change with it. I felt the eye could be taken gently down to the
boat with some flowing steps, and I’ve cleared a more definite
path, too. I’ve given a cleaner and more defined curve to the
waters edge and beach which I feel improves the composition.
Also I’ve emphasised the rocks in the centre of the picture by
building up some foliage behind them. Finally, I’ve added a
couple of appropriate figures. The rocks themselves have been
somewhat formalised and I have hinted at a reflection of them
in the water.
Do not make the sea a regulation blue all over, as I have seen
so many beginners do. I have added a touch of Raw Sienna near
the shore in the foreground as the sand below would influence
the colour.

The preliminary tonal sketch.

81
demo I Greek island beach

If you compare the painting on the right with a

photograph of the scene on the previous page you
will see I have taken many liberties with what is
actually there. I’ve ignored the hotels in the
distance, removed some of the foreground rocks
and generally cleaned the place up and smoothed
the water so that I could legitimately put some
reflections in.

82
demo 2 autumn woodland

A scene in the Forest of Dean, This is the sort of scene that seems to strike terror into so many
near my home. students. ‘Where do you start with a subject like that, there’s
nothing to get hold of!’ they say. My own way of tackling it is
to work gradually and systematically from the background to
the foreground.
As the title says, it’s an autumn scene and as such it provides
a temptation to put too much crude colour together. There are
plenty of opportunities to use the Light Red, but it must be
tempered with a few subtle mauves and pinks in the distance.
Looking at the scene I felt it needed a more definite path to
take the eye in and guide it to the distant sunlit trees, making
almost a rich tunnel to look at the patch of light beyond.
First I washed in the whole sky down to the horizon line,
then while this was still damp I painted in a mixture of
Ultramarine and Light Red to indicate the distant trees in the

84
 gap. I used the rigger to show the trunks rather wet-into-wet.
Then I started to build up the colour strongly on each side.
This is the point the painting often starts to become muddy so
work lightly and decisively, gradually using stronger and
stronger paint. As the paper dried, I finished off the trees with
light touches of dry brush at the edges of the gap. This is where
the rigger comes into its own, but one must not overdo it, but
save it for the light patches where it shows up better. A few
flicks with the finger nail into the still damp paint also helps.
The same treatment is used for the ground undergrowth, this
time I put in a wash corresponding to the lights and only partly
covered them with the darker colour later. Here again I used
my finger nail, rigger and even my knuckle to add texture.
The path was indicated with a weak wash of Light Red and
when it was dry I put in the shadow very quickly and decisively
with a mixture of Light Red and Ultramarine.

The preliminary tonal sketch.

85
aS)s S N 8= =
= S= 3 8 = aS
S S 3 SS
Comparing the photograph on page 84 with this
painting you'll see my main aim was to take the
eye down a definite path to the patch of light at the
end. To dramatise it I gave the surrounding trees a
more definite textured profile — in other words to
try and build in more depth.

87
demo 3 Greek windmill

A typical Greek island windmill, This one’s a real ‘natural’. Compositionally it’s perfect. The
sadly neglected but a wonderful whole windmill is silhouetted nicely off centre against a rich
subject to paint.
blue sky and provides a good vertical element combined with
the horizontal skyline - even the waves seem to radiate and
point to the main object of interest.
I like the counterchanged lights and darks at the base of the
mill, and also the counterchanging of the dark rock in the
middle against the white foam of the sea.
This is one of the very few occasions where I would use
masking fluid to cover the windmill before I put the sky in. In
case you haven’t used it before, it’s a rubbery solution which
you paint on the part you want to leave white. It dries almost
immediately to a waterproof film so that you can paint over it
with confidence. Once the watercolour washes are completely
dry you can rub the masking fluid off with your finger.
Having let the fluid dry, I first put a thin watery wash of Raw
88
 Sienna all over the sky. I immediately put on a strong wash of
Ultramarine with a touch of Light Red in it across the top of
the sky, and graduated it by taking the pressure off my brush as
I moved it backwards and forwards. Even rich blue skies are
weaker and creamier at the horizon than they are at the top.
When that was dry I put in the distant sea with a very sharp
horizon, but only as far as the distant waves. This left a natural
break and from there to the foreground I changed the colour of
the sea by adding Lemon Yellow and weakening it, using the
direction of the stroke to give movement to the water and
leaving lots of untouched white paper for the waves. Like all
moving water I try to indicate it as quickly and lightly as I can.
Next came the beach, and I wanted to introduce as much
texture and varied colour into it as I could, although it’s
basically Burnt Umber with a touch of Raw Sienna.
Having done all this, I rubbed off the masking fluid
carefully. Don’t leave it on for days as I have known it remove
the surface of the paper as well — not my favourite stuff!
Left with a nice white silhouette, I used my one inch flat
brush to put in all the varied tones using the absolute
minimum of strokes, and in some cases lifting the brush at an
angle to get a shorter mark. I strongly resist the temptation to
use a smaller brush because I feel the large one forces you to
simplify. Even the texture on the roof was done by radiating it.

ace Ca teens

The preliminary tonal sketch.

89
demo 3 Greek windmill

This is a much ‘tighter’ painting than most of

those in the book but it just came out that way. To
let you into a little secret, the wash on the sea near
the horizon became a little ‘muddy’ and I cheated
shamelessly by rubbing a little pastel over it.
Certainly not to be encouraged, but a useful tip in
an emergency and one could call it mixed media!

90
demo4 Welsh rapids

The fast moving Cenarth Falls in

Dyfed, Wales. A challenging but
exciting subject.

This was a very exciting scene, both to look at and to tackle in

watercolour. When you first get there and see and hear the
rushing water it seems an almost impossible task to portray it.
What you must do first is to stand quietly and study the water
closely for some minutes. What at first seems a constantly
changing succession of lights and tones can be resolved into a
pattern which occurs over and over again. It will be easier to
discover if you screw your eyes up until they’re almost closed.
But let’s start with the sky first —- a very simple one here,
remembering that a complicated and busy foreground needs a
peaceful backdrop otherwise the two will fight each other.
Once the sky was in I wanted to show three separate planes of
woodland, one behind the other. I put the furthest one in first,
on to a still damp sky. Then I added the left hand bank oftrees
almost immediately, but in thicker paint. Finally, I made up a

a2
 large quantity of rich dark green while the other washes were
drying and then ‘put it on quickly and strongly in one coat
using the corner of my hake to produce a nice ‘frothy’ edge
which throws it forward from the far trees. This is probably the
most hazardous part of the painting as regards ‘mud’. The dark
colour must be put in directly and then left strictly alone —
there is a terrible temptation to keep painting it in a damp
state, which is fatal.
Next the river banks themselves, which are lightly indicated
by brushing the hake at an angle.
The river itself should be put in very lightly and rapidly
leaving lots of untouched paper for the white water. This is
where you should do one or two trial shots on a piece of scrap
paper. Once rehearsed you will do it with more confidence.
When this is dry the foreground is put in quickly and
decisively. Once again remember not to overwork it. It is so
easy to ruin the freshness of the whole painting with ‘mud’ so
try out this corner, too, on scrap paper — rather like a golfer on
the putting green testing his strength before actually
addressing the ball itself.
The white branches in the trees on the right were flicked in
with my finger nail while the paint was still damp. If you try it
whilst the paint is too wet they will fill in to produce dark lines.
Please do not get carried away with it — use it with discretion.

The preliminary tonal sketch.

93
demo 4 Welsh rapids

ara
Sigs ALES II

Agi
ule
In this painting I’ve very much simplified the
scene on page 92, having made no attempt to
reproduce each individual eddy and fall. I’ve
merely tried to capture the spirit and movement of
the river. I have given it a more winding path to
follow and, of course, tried to give the scene more
depth.

95
demo 5 woodland stream

This is a really wild one! A jungle of matted undergrowh and One of my favourite subjects, a
tangled branches, it presented a real challenge to simplify and combination of water and trees.
paint in order to give an impression of the scene in a light,
fresh way.
One thing I liked about it was the strong light silhouetting
the background trees on the left. The ivy-covered trees in the
centre were moved slightly to the right and I decided to
strengthen the tonal mass in the left foreground to give the
scene more depth.
With a scene like this you cannot possibly hope to reproduce
all the branches and grass. You must instead try to portray it in
counterchanged tonal masses and various mixtures of green.
It’s easy to produce a very boring range of greens, and you
should try to deliberately contrast a ‘bluey’ one against a
‘yellowy’ one, a dark against a light one. Notice how I have
tried to do this, particularly on the right side of the painting.

96
 The main aim should be to keep it fresh and transparent — paint
with the lightest of touches and avoid ‘mud’ like the plague!
I feel this sort of picture is an ideal way to contrast the forced
simplification of the hake with the free calligraphy of the
rigger. The sequence is the same as usual, starting with a
simple sky wash leaving plenty of light at the bottom left.
Whilst the sky is still wet, start putting in the distant woods on
the right with blue-green, then gradually build up the foliage,
waiting until the sky is absolutely dry before introducing the
rigger work and the two main ivy-covered trees. The trunks I
did with light sideways strokes of the hake. Again you will see a
few flicks of my fingernail in the damp paint on the far right —
much more effective against the dark tones.
The stream was then washed in quickly with the same colour
as the sky, and the other colours of the reflections dropped in
immediately in thicker paint to compensate for the already
damp wash on the paper.
Finally, moving forward again, I painted in the foreground
tree and the bank on the left quickly and lightly to avoid over-
working them. Notice the little wriggles in the river to reflect
the foreground grasses.

The preliminary tonal sketch.

demo 5 woodland stream

Compared with the actual scene on page 96 you

will see that the painting on the right has been
considerably simplified. I have tried to use washes
of transparent paint to represent the network of
branches again, while trying to retain the essential
character of the scene before me. I’ve also tried to
clarify the various depths of the picture, for
example the foreground tree on the left is
separated tonally from the trees behind it.
demo 6 winter scene

|
i"in,

}
7

I loved this scene. It gave me a chance to put a lot of depth into The cold, misty atmosphere of
the picture and also provided an opportunity to slow a variety this river scene make it an ideal
watercolour subject.
of different textures and techniques which made it a good
demonstration painting.
First I decided to separate the two foreground groups of trees
to give a clear view of the distant wood across a field that was
partly covered with snow.
After putting in the sky I painted in the distant wood right
across the painting, ignoring what was to come in front.
Students often leave white gaps for nearer trees which then
have to be added in like a patchwork quilt. Unless the fore-
ground tree is much lighter than the background, forget it at
this stage.
The next move was to put in the left hand group oftrees with
light downward strokes of the hake, well charged with paint,
using the corner of the brush to indicate the feathery bits on
top. While the paint was still damp I pushed the nail of my

100
 little finger up once or twice to show the lighter branches.
Then using the rigger I indicated the main branches against the
sky which was by this time dry. Don’t be too impatient here. If
they’re put into a wet sky they look blurred and unnatural.
Next the bank was put in using almost pure Raw Sienna
dragging the hake lightly as a feather at an angle to indicate the
slope of the bank and leaving plenty of white paper showing for
the snow.
Then comes the right hand fir trees. Try practising these
first on a separate piece of scrap paper. They are a combination
of hake and rigger. The main trunks are touched in lightly with
sideways strokes of the hake. The foliage is shown by flicking
in strong paint using mainly the corner of the brush. Finally,
the branches are added with light strokes of the rigger. The
more practice you have in this the more decisive and confident
you will get with your trees.
I tipped the posts in with my one-inch flat and was ready for
the river. This should be a mirror image of the sky colour and
while still wet I put in downward strokes of the tree colour
using very strong paint to compensate for the wetness already
on the paper. I then did a quick sideways stroke with my dry
hake to wipe off a streak, indicated the reflections of the posts
and the picture was finished.

RS iced plats ares

A etme AERO Uy

The preliminary tonal sketch.

 demo 6 winter scene

If you compare the scene on page 100 with the

painting you’ll see that my main aim has been to
drastically simplify it, give it more depth whilst at
the same time try to retain the cold misty
atmosphere. The trees themselves have been
formalised to some extent. Note that whilst the
right hand pair of trees in the photograph has had ua \
its top chopped off, I’ve retained it within the aw

picture. vente

sei
pie

co

102
demo7 lakeland view

I had been asked to do two demonstrations on two separate It’s no good asking me exactly
evenings in the Lake District. In between I drove my car where this is because it’s a scene I
discovered when I was completely
around all day, painted three watercolours, took dozens of
lost!
photographs, and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
I drove over the brow of a hill and saw this scene below me.
The lake on the left provided the one streak of light in an
otherwise fairly sombre panorama. What attracted me
however, was the plane after plane of depth in it.
The weather was sunny one minute and threatening the next,
so I was determined to produce an exciting sky with a hint of
rain on the right hand hills.
I first put in a very weak watery wash of Raw Sienna on the
sky area and then immediately dropped in a patch of blue and
quickly mixed up a strong mixture of Paynes Grey and Alizarin
Crimson. This is one of my favourite mixes for clouds. One has
to be careful to get the mix with just the right balance — too
much grey and the colour is too ‘slatey’; too much Alizarin and

104
 it looks ‘sugary’. Remember, too, that it will dry lighter than it
looks when wet so you must apply it with fearless abandon to
the damp surface — really frighten yourself. Then tip it up at
about 45 degrees and watch it all happen — it’s very exciting
and the result depends on getting the water content right.
From then on I worked the picture from the back to the
front. Notice the far hillside — at each end I deliberately pushed
the wash into the still wet sky to blend into it, whereas in the
centre I avoided touching the sky, leaving it as a hard edge.
The dark wood behind the lake was put in with a rich
mixture of Paynes Grey and Lemon Yellow whilst the back-
ground wash was still wet.
The lake itself was left completely untouched letting the
white paper speak for itself. Then with one light stroke of the
hake I put in the middle distant plain indicating the trees with
the corner of the hake, and the hedge with a touch of the edge
of the hake.
Finally the foreground went in on top — the grass with a
quick light sweep of the hake, leaving a few bits of untouched
paper on the left which I feel gives it a certain touch ofvitality.
The foreground trees went in with dry brush leaving a few
spaces through them to indicate branches with the rigger.

The preliminary tonal sketch.

105
demo 7 lakeland view
The main difference in this painting compared
with the photograph of the scene on page 104 is
that I’ve made much more of a sky picture of it,
lowering the horizon which in the process reduced
the foreground. I tried to get a lot more drama and
atmosphere into the scene. Note too that I’ve tried
to provide a clearer path into the picture by
leaving a gap between the foreground trees. I’ve
also lowered the right hand tree so that the top is
not touching the edge of the distant hill.

107
demo 8 snow on the Wye

This is a scene on the banks of the River Wye about half a mile, The River Wye at Bigsweir, the
as the crow flies, from my home. I look down on this river from view from my bankside studio.
800 feet above it. I regard it as almost my own back yard and
paint on the bank throughout the seasons. I even have a studio
on its banks which was originally a toll house for the bridge.
Much of the time it has mist in the valley and makes an
absolutely ideal watercolour subject.
There is plenty of opportunity to use the wet-into-wet
technique in this scene, but again I must stress not all the way
through or it will look like candy floss. You must introduce
strong sharp darks as well to give the eye something to focus
on, such as the tree on the left. A few delicate touches, like the
protruding grass in the foreground help, too. I restricted
myself to four colours, Raw Sienna, Burnt Umber, Paynes
Grey and Ultramarine.
Look at the scene itself. There is not a lot that needs
changing. It’s almost a natural, with the eye entering the

108
 picture on the right and being led gently to the river. The dark
hillside on the right balances up the even darker tree on the
left.
The most difficult part is handling the wet-into-wet and the
secret here is not to use too much water once the first wash has
been applied. As always, I worked from the back to the front of
a painting.
I put in my sky with very weak Raw Sienna then dropped in
some Paynes Grey across the top and allowed it to graduate
downwards by gravity. Then came the far distant hillside
where I used much thicker paint on the still wet sky. The two
mid distant trees were then touched in using almost neat paint.
The river was then tackled. I quickly dropped in the sky
colour all over and quite wet. I immediately put in the
reflections of the hillside, and afterwards the trees in quite
thick paint. Having dried my hake, I wiped out two streaks
while the paint was still wet.
The hillside and sky on the left were by this time dry enough
to put in the near tree — painted lightly with almost neat paint —
carefully leaving plenty of ‘sky holes’. That done the river was
dry enough to indicate the rushes in dryish Burnt Umber.
I then flicked the shadow on the snow very quickly with the
hake and very thin paint. When this was dry I added a few
whisps of grass. It took in all about 20 minutes.

The preliminary tonal sketch.

109
demo 8 snow on Wye

In contrast to many of the previous demos a Rey

comparison with the actual scene on page 108 will
show that very little had to be done to simplify it —
perhaps the snow had done it for me! Mainly I’ve
increased the size of the foreground tree on the left
to give it more importance and emphasise the
depth of the scene. I also felt that the foreground
snow needed a little more interesting texture.

110
my own collection

Now I’m going to take you around my home and show you my
own collection of other watercolour artists’ work. Pictures
which, each in their own way, have over the last few years
stopped me in my tracks and filled me with a desire to have
them on my walls — paying hard earned money for them —
sometimes more than I could sensibly afford! These paintings
have, however, not only given me inspiration but have served
as a constant reminder of my own aims, gently helped to keep
me on the chosen path as it were.
It’s no coincidence that they all display the same approach to
simplification and directness that I’m trying to achieve in my
own teaching and painting. They are studied long and hard by
the hundreds of students who visit Wyeholme; each provides
invaluable help and guidance. I make no secret of the fact that
I’m almost completely self-taught. Much of my knowledge has
been gained from my vast library of books on watercolour
which I’ve built up over the years from every country I visit.
The English painter Edward Seago has undoubtedly been
my biggest influence. I have scoured the second hand
bookshops searching for his books, all of which have been out
of print for twenty-five years or so! I eventually decided that
someone should do something to rectify this situation so I have
produced my own book on his works which has just been
published by David and Charles.
I have, however, also tried to train myselfto carefully analyse
the work of experienced artists whose work I sincerely admire.
In these final pages I’m going to talk you through some of my
favourites, which will help to emphasise some of the ideas on
watercolour I’ve tried to convey in this book.

112
EO

WOMY

—
 Thorpeness Mill Leslie L H Moore ri

I bought this on a visit to Furneaux Gallery in

Wimbledon one day, captivated by its
freshness and textures. Look how all the
detail is concentrated on the mill itself, and
the further away from the main point of
interest the looser it gets. The foreground
itself is very understated and fresh, with little
to compete for attention, avoiding one of the
major faults of most amateurs — too much fuss
in the foreground. The sky is a delight, note
the counterchange of the various depths of
foliage with the darkest dark placed behind
‘the white steps, also the way the eye is led
into the. left of the picture by the track. He
has also added a few strokes of body white to
pick out the cross-members of the gate etc but
this is used with great discretion.

114
 .
2
2:
2
Upper Unsted Farm, Godalming Roy Perry r1

Like other artists shown in this chapter, such as Edward

Wesson and Trevor Chamberlain, Roy Perry only became a
full-time artist later in life. He was a winner of the RI Gold
Medal for the best watercolour of the year by a non-member,
before being elected to the RI in 1978. He works both in
watercolour and gouache and although this example is in
gouache I had to include it to show the handling of the aerial
perspective. From the beautifully rendered cows in the
foreground — themselves worth careful study — the painting
recedes plane by plane back to the wintry trees on the skyline.
Notice, too, how he counterchanges the farm roof against the
light background and the barn roof against a dark one. These
things often occur in nature, but if they don’t you have to
arrange them yourself deliberately! Again look how the second
row of winter trees on the right is lighter than the foreground
trees.

116
Still Morning, Southwold Trevor Chamberlain rsma, RoI

I’ve long admired Trevor Chamberlain’s oils, so much so that

when asked to write a book about oil-painting I contacted him
out of the blue and asked him if I could illustrate the book
entirely with his work. He agreed and Oi/-painting Pure and
Simple was the resulting book.
However, I was surprised and delighted to see one of his water-
colours in the RI a year or two ago and bought it immediately. I
now have three, all of which are shown here. Szi// Morning,
Southwold must have been a daunting picture to start,
particularly the complex detail on the left, but Trevor has
resolved it very successfully by simplifying the tones into three
separate depths. Note that the area of greatest tonal contrast is
at the stern of the right hand boat, making it the focal point of
the picture. Notice, too, the simple treatment of the water and
the handling of the reflections.

—
;

=
 et apo
Soy RS,
ae ee
e She
aaee
Shop-lit Pavement, Tottenham
Trevor Chamberlain rsma, RoI

I asked Trevor how he came to paint this picture and he said

he’d done it sitting in his car one night waiting for his son to
come out of a disco! It’s a beautiful transparent watercolour —
with so many darks it could so easily have become ‘muddied’.
He has used counterchange very successfully throughout the
picture — look at the way the white-clothed shop keeper is
picked out against the awning, and the dark sign against the lit
one. Even the distant figures and the ‘mini’ on the right are
beautifully indicated.
Riverside at Hammersmith Trevor Chamberlain rsMa, ROI

I chanced to see this picture in black and white in the Artists

magazine one day and drove about a hundred miles to a Devon
Gallery to buy it. It has obviously been painted on tinted paper
— something I haven’t yet tried, though I’ve bought several
sheets of such paper over the years in readiness! (Haven’t we
all?) I couldn’t resist its masterly simplicity with lots of out of
focus wet-into-wet, but good, sharp accents to hold the
painting together. The three figures, too, have been placed
strategically. Look at the way the dark one on the left is
counterchanged against the light background.

ohtowhalw G4

19
Kirkcubright Wood Mill Jon Peaty

I saw this painting in a converted cow stall

behind a pub on the Yorkshire moors, and fell
in love with it immediately, but felt that the
price was a bit too much for me at the time
and left. After a sleepless night I drove back
sixty miles the next day to buy it! Years later I
met the artist who had joined one of my
workshops in Durham. The picture has all
the qualities I admire, especially the
sweeping, simplified foreground which I’m
constantly showing to my students. The wet-
into-wet tree on the right contrasts with the
sharp crispness of the adjacent buildings. The
eye sweeps over the foreground and is carried
round to the edge of the water to finish on the
tiny post in the distance. The two figures are
also. well placed with their heads
counterchanged against the light patch on the
buildings. The dark cloud on the left helps to
balance the masses on the right. All in all, a
thoroughly satisfying picture.

120
- ~ ieee
ee ee
ae
 i+ % ae

The Mill, Tewkesbury Edward Wesson ri

Ted Wesson was a real character, with a gruff humour, a really

well respected and loved artist and teacher — his courses were
always booked up months ahead and his Art Society
demonstrations crowded out. His work and teaching have been
an enormous influence on thousands of students. I had a week’s
course with him a few years ago which I remember fondly.
One of the ways he kept his work fresh, spontaneous and
uncluttered was to use his famous ‘polishers mop’, in reality a
crude looking brush made for French polishing. Its floppy hair
was held together with wire, but it worked for him and his
multitude of followers — having the same deterrent effect on
fiddling as my ‘Hake’.
This picture, one of four I possess, shows all his freshness
and simplicity. His paintings were done quickly with deceptive
directness and lightness of pressure. If I may quote from his
biography, ‘Watercolour doesn’t bear being pushed about and
worked on without losing its main quality. We need to simplify
the subject in front of us so there will not be the need for any
overworking or fiddling. A range of hills in the distance must
be captured in one brush stroke’ — my own sentiments entirely!

122
A Yorkshire Lane Angus Rands

Angus was the first person I went to when I decided, in my

fifties, Iwanted to paint in watercolours. I had a week’s course
with him in the tiny village of Kettlewell — and rather like one’s
first ‘love affair’ it had a great effect on my subsequent
approach to the subject. I feel I owe Angus a great deal. During
a ‘demo’ he would stand in front of his easel, rather like a
fencer and work with lightning speed.
Freshness and spontaneity were his main aims in painting,
always working in the open air in all weathers, using a large
stone hung by string to stop his easel from blowing away! You
can see from this example, his work had enormous vitality.
Mnandi Beach Douglas Treasure

This is a painting by a celebrated South

African artist which I saw in the 1985 RI
exhibition and I was struck immediately by
its simplicity and purity. The scene has been
beautifully and carefully resolved. Not a
single stroke has been wasted. The handling
of the foreground pools is masterly. The
centre of interest is of course the two boats,
achieved by making them the area of
maximum contrast and counterchanging
them against the light beach beyond. The
whole painting is a result of great accuracy
and forethought, together with a lightness
and freshness of application.

124
ii
aie

125
The Dyke in Winter Edward Seago
Without any doubt at all this man is my own
personal hero — I had long coveted a ‘Seago’
and when I finally bought it from the Richard
Green Gallery in London it cost three times
as much as the rest of my collection put
together — but well worth it! Seago had an
amazing following during his life-time.
Whenever he held an exhibition anywhere in
the world, queues would form long before the
opening with usually a sell-out in the first few
hours.
I love the drama and contrast of this
painting. It is dominated by the threatening
clouds with a small area of clear sky. Against
this pure yellow are placed the black
silhouette of the tree and gate. The snow in
deep shadow is punctuated by the contrasting
black and yellow of the dyke. This didn’t
happen by accident — it was well thought out
beforehand.
Seago was a master of economy of brush
strokes — every one counted and not a single
one was wasted — a philosophy which echoes
the main message of this book.

126
BXoe
index

Aerial perspective, 27, 37 Glycerine, 69 ‘Rocks, 81, 59

Alizarin Crimson, 36 Greens, how to make them, 36-37
Sails, 64
Seago, Edward, 112, 126
Balance, 30, 31 Hake, 13, 16, 17, 38, 47, 48, 68, 101
Shadows, 50, 67, 72, 109
Boats, 60-65 Harbours, 60—65
Shop-lit Pavement, Tottenham, 119
Bockingford paper, 14 Hogs hair brush, 23
Sickert, 75
Brushes, 13 Horizon, 70
Simplicity, 9, 73, 122
l-inch flat, 13, 20 Huntley, Moira, 63
Single Lens Reflex cameras, 77
Hake, 13, 16, 17, 38, 47, 48, 68,
Kirkcubright Wood Mill, 120 Skies, 33, 38-43
101
Clear, 40
Rigger, 13, 19, 44, 47, 101 Knuckles, 23
Snow, 66-69
Hogs-hair, 23
Langton pads, 14
‘Starved palette’, 11
Buildings, 70-73
Still Morning, Southwold, 117
Burnt Umber, 21, 24, 25, 34, 35, 67, Lemon Yellow, 35
Streams, 54-57
68, 108 IWensesaonwil
Light Red, 36, 67, 68, 84, 85 Sunsets, 41
Cameras, 74-77 Thorpeness Mill, 114
Centre of Interest, 32 Masking Fluid, 88, 89
Tonal Sketches, 67, 70
Chamberlain, Trevor, 117, 119 Masts, 64
Tonal Values, 21, 24-29, 37
Clouds, 33 Materials, 11-15
Toulouse-Lautrec, 75
Cirrus, 39, 40 ‘Meanness’, 8
Treasure, Douglas, 124
Cumulus, 39, 40, 61 Mill, Tewkesbury, 122
Trees, 47-50
Nimbus, 39, 40, 42 Mnandi Beach, 124
Coniferous, 48
Colour, 34-37 Moore, Leslie, 114
Deciduous, 48
Composition, 30—33
Cotman colours, 11 Pads, 14 Ultramarine, 36, 67, 68, 84, 85, 108
Counterchange, 26, 45, 119, 124 Painting and Drawing Boats, 62 Upper Unsted Farm, Godalming, 116
Courage, 39 Palettes, 13
Pastels, 90 Venice, 73
Degas, 75 Paynes Grey, 36, 68, 108 View finder, 33
Demonstrations, 80-111 Peaty, Jon, 120
Do’s and Don’ts, 78, 79 Perry, Roy, 116 Water, 54
Dry brush, 23, 68 Perspective, 70 moving, 92
Dyke in Winter, 126 Provence, 72 Watercolour, 56
Puddles, 57 Wesson, Edward, 122
Easel, 14, 15 Purity, 9 Wet-into-wet, 21, 23
Equipment Whatman paper, 14
Indoors, 15 Rands, Angus, 123 Wide-angle lens, 75, 77
Outdoor, 14 Raw Sienna, 34, 40, 68, 108 Woodland, 50
Reflections, 54, 56, 63 Wyeholme, 112
Faults, 54, 64, 72, 75, 76 Repetition, 32
Fields, flooded, 57 Rigger, 13, 19, 44, 47, 101 Yachts, 64
Figures, 44, 45, 120 Rigging, 64-65 Yorkshire Lane, 123
Fingernails, 23, 93 Rivers, 54-57
Focal point, 32 Riverside at Hammersmith, 119 Zoom Lens, 75, 77
 Ruth Olson
Watercolor Libra
R
Fargo ND
 ii
Wate ieesin
aay

Mena
fine

A
eaiaes
Sakis ios a
ia Sapien haat i Sea aeumeN i hf G Sh NAY
ee
; ec al 2
DiSicanuny
ie
Saguf Hat i WR sae
i f.
 The Author
Ron Ranson began painting at the age of fifty after a
career in advertising and management. Not only did
he teach himself to be a very successful artist, he
learned he could share his discoveries about his rapid
artistic progress with others.
In addition to being a bestselling watercolor
painter and author, Ranson enjoys a worldwide
reputation as an instructor. He teaches watercolor
classes at his home in the Wye Valley, England,
popular with students from Britain and America.
Ranson also conducts workshops in Spain, France,
and the Greek isles.
His work has been shown at the Royal Institute
of Watercolor Painters and in other important London
exhibitions. Because his loose, impressionistic style
is so popular, many of his gallery exhibitions are
complete sellouts. In recent years, his work has
become known worldwide with exhibitions in
Europe, South Africa, and Australia.
Ranson is the author of Watercolor Painting: The
Ron Ranson Technique (Blanford), and he has
produced two videos, Watercolor Pure and Simple
and Watercolor Fast and Loose (North Light Books).
ART INSTRUCTION

Fast and Loose

Loosen up and paint sparkling watercolors by following Ron Ranson’s
pure and simple techniques. Using only seven colors and three brushes,
Ranson shows you how to capture mood and avoid fussy detail to
create fresh arid exciting paintings. *

30028 | ISBN 0-89134-225-7