Category Archives: paintings

Disappearing palaces, tempestuous landscapes and lemon squeezers

image showing three books

two Christopher Lehmpfuhl painting catalogues and a book about Emil Nolde’s watercolour landscapes

It might be cold outside but there has been a simmering of wild colours and stormy brushstrokes within. More late birthday gifts arrived in the form of two new catalogues of Christopher Lehmpfuhl’s bold and dazzling work and a small but sumptuous book filled with Emil Nolde watercolour landscapes. Both German painters, but separated by time.

image showing colourful watercolour

wild watercolour number 1, 10 inches square on Arches paper

The Nolde book is very inspiring and propelled me towards my watercolour tubes and pans, resulting in some enthusiastic and richly-hued daubs. I still can’t work out how Nolde achieved such dense, strong colour. Maybe it was the particular shades he chose to work with and maybe he created numerous layers. The more ‘stainy’ colours I used held up relatively well but the others did what watercolours often do – looked vivid while wet but faded to a whitish glow on drying.

watercolour, 10x10 inches on Arches paper

watercolour attempt number 2, 10 inches square on Arches paper

I have done some more work on the Crosdale large painting and, while I’m pleased with the colours, it’s still not quite there yet.

oil painting of Crosdale, work in progress

large Crosdale painting, work progressing slowly, oil on canvas

At the opposite end of the brightness scale, my odd dark painting is still progressing towards its rather spooky finished state.

A2 oil painting on canvas, Whitewell painting

seems it’s always dark near Whitewell, work in progress, oil on canvas, A2

Lehmpfuhl catalogue showing still life paintings and window views

the joy of small scenes in the Lehmpfuhl catalogue

One of my Christopher Lehmpfuhl catalogues is full of intimate still lifes: views through windows and portraits of tables loaded with glasses, crockery and other small items. It gave me an idea to have a go at capturing a ‘family’ of glassware grouped on a table top.

6x8 inches still life of glassware, oil on canvas

still life glassware family group, two tumblers and a lemon squeezer, 6×8 inches, oil on canvas

As the evenings have been getting longer I also managed to paint a very quick view out of the kitchen window as the light was beginning to fade. It was a real rush to get it done, especially as a stray dog appeared wandering through the gardens below while I painted, leading me to break off and check that it had not been abandoned, but it could lead to further paintings as I enjoy the odd shapes of the hills and the trees and their associated shadows.

oil painting on canvas, 9×12 inches, window view

extreme painting, through the window in record time, oil on canvas, 9×12 inches

Christopher Lehmpfuhl catalogue: Die Neue Mitte

Die Neue Mitte exhibition catalogue, brimming with energetic paintings

The larger of the two Lehmpfuhl catalogues is full of thrilling, swirling, huge plein air paintings from an exhibition called ‘Die Neue Mitte’. The series of paintings was created to document the controversial, politically-motivated demolition of an East German landmark building in Berlin, the Palast der Republik, which was open to the public as well as being the home of the DDR parliament and the people’s chamber, or Volkskammer.

It was a place where cultural events took place, with a theatre and art galleries as well as a disco, restaurants and even a post office. As the Palast was gradually torn down Lehmpfuhl kept finding new angles to paint it from and the whole extraordinary process was documented in a film which can be found halfway down this page, entitled ‘Die Neue Mitte’.

I saw the Palast der Republik on my first visit to Berlin in 2001 and it had a real 70s look to it, with its bronze mirrored exterior reminding me of glittery disco interiors and dark smoked coffee tables made of glass. Another short film, about the opening of the Palast in 1976, can be found here.

Painting is more important than art

plein air oil painting with loose, free brushstrokes, 6x8 inches on canvas

sometimes when you’re outside the brushstrokes quickly flow, oil on canvas, 6×8 inches

This week the snow and ice returned, leading to winter activities such as huddling indoors, clinging to radiators and wearing hats. A further incentive to stay in was provided by the arrival of a new book: “What Painting Is” by James Elkins, bought with birthday money and full of strange (but true) ideas about painters and their peculiar obsession with moving smeary stuff around on flat things.

It is quite odd admitting to yourself that you have a fascination with smearing colourful greases about on pieces of material, and thinking that you could probably continue to find it incredibly engaging and interesting throughout life. Yet it isn’t really any stranger than other people’s passions (I hope). This week’s work seems to have taken hours yet not much change to show for it – but painting always seems to be one step forward two steps back (and then sometimes a big jump forward and you never know why).

work in progress, Crosdale painting, oil on canvas

continuing with the Crosdale work in progress, trying to match the tones more closely to the original plein air

work in progress, Whitewell oil painting

starting to bring light into the dark Whitewell painting – something a bit ‘comic book’ about it at this stage

In his book, Elkins compares painting with alchemy, that weird mystical field that preceded science. I’m not so interested in that but more interested in the way he describes just how famous painters (Monet, Pollock and Rembrandt so far) put their paint on the canvas. For instance, Elkins is convinced that Monet stabbed at the canvas quite violently with his brush, which makes you think again when considering his peaceful, sun-dappled scenes of hay meadows and water gardens. I have read somewhere else that Monet said he painted slowly rather than fast, so who knows? I suppose he could have attacked the canvas determinedly with each stroke but taken his time between strokes as well.

Elkins also reckons that Pollock went to great pains to ensure his paint hit the picture surface in just the right way every time, so that anything that too closely resembled a recognisable shape (like a figure) was destroyed. The book points out the huge variety of different movements that Pollock must have made to create his abstract marks and, although I don’t get excited about his painting, I can appreciate that it works and that it was probably extremely difficult to get right.

oil portrait, 9x12 inches, work in progress

portrait, probably a work in progress if I can get the reluctant model to sit again, nose all wrong as usual …

It is really hard to make brushmarks that appear both random and pleasing at the same time. Having copied a couple of Nolde’s paintings and stared at many other pictures created by painters who can do ‘wild and free’ strokes, I can see that it is a process of being able to let go just enough but not too much. If you let go too much you can’t depict what you’re trying to but if you are too careful, trying to make sure your picture looks like it ‘should’, the brushmarks soon begin to look a bit leaden and all the same.

Working quickly helps. Sometimes painting out of doors, with the clouds whizzing by and the light altering by the second, means that brush hits canvas in a blur and, before you know it, a wonderful sea of lively marks has appeared. If you are lucky and have been practising a lot the painting works but, if not, you run the risk of ending up with a mess that doesn’t really look like anything – although the brushstrokes are nice.

oil painting of stormy fell

I was very excited by the stormy light when I went out to paint this and the brushstrokes seemed to fall into place in a lively way but I’ve no idea why that day it worked, oil on board, 6×8 inches