Fall is here, but the final blooms of zinnias and Mexican sunflowers continue in the garden, along with a tangle of scarlet runner bean and cypress vines. I’m hoping that the remaining tomatoes ripen before we get a hard frost. Perhaps there will be one more journal page to mark the end of the season. But just in case, the last of the show seems well deserving of a late season tribute.
Tips and Techniques– I could have selected only the finest remaining blooms for this sketch, but it wouldn’t have reflected the reality of the tangled mess or plants in various stages of bloom and decay that mark the October garden. So, while you may be tempted to paint a beautiful bouquet (and there’s nothing wrong with that), consider the value of marking the seasons and showing the imperfect reality that is inherent in a fall garden (and life itself).
Back in May, I wrote a post about Gardens Wild and Planted, where I wondered whether the home gardener could create anything as lovely as a spring meadow. Here I am again at the end of summer wondering the same once more. I visited this field (and started this journal page) back in July and revisited it last week to see it again (and finish the sketch). My own garden is a fine mix of annuals and perennials, and it has provided plenty of good subject matter for sketching. But it cannot compare with the wilder open fields where an annual mowing is all that is needed to create an entire season of beauty.
Tips and Techniques– This sketch is a composite of various flowers and grasses in the field. Rather than standing in one place where all of this was in view, I moved from flower to flower to fill the page. I often use this technique when outside because it allows me the freedom to roam freely, discovering and drawing as I go. I sketch directly with a black Micron 02 pen and I may or may not add watercolor on the spot. A small travel watercolor set and water brush work well, though I frequently add more layers of watercolor at home. The text and border come last. Hope you are enjoying some late summer wandering and sketching!
When the basil in our garden comes into full force, it’s time to make pesto and caprese salad and fresh tomato pie. But first, it’s time to sketch. I wanted to try something different here to bring out the shapes, patterns, and summer colors of the basil. And now, to the kitchen!
(Click to view larger) Tips and Techniques– Sorry I didn’t take a photo of the initial pencil sketch and first layer of wet in wet wash. But this shows the progression thereafter of painting mainly the negative spaces between the plants and adding additional shapes to suggest layers of basil in the garden. I find this technique especially useful for foliage. Deciding when to stop is sometimes difficult…I probably could have stopped at the second image, but I wanted to see what would happen if I pushed the darks.
When it’s 80-degrees with 90-percent humidity, sketching outside—or doing much of anything outside—is not easy. But flowers in full bloom don’t wait for ideal weather and I figured I shouldn’t either. Pen and sketchbook in hand, I found myself quickly wilted among the daisies. So, my afternoon became a dance between painting indoors and sketching outside, with welcome breaks in between until the page was complete. I can hardly wait for August!
For two weeks now, poppies have been opening each day in our garden. Light and airy as ballet dancers, their moment center stage is short, but oh so lovely. I started this page when the first pink flower bloomed and added more as they opened— plant after plant, all pink. And then, a single red blossom opened. Outstanding in its singularity, it seemed the perfect punctuation to a page—and to a garden in need of a bit of diversity to really make it shine.
I did this second painting of poppies while visiting the garden at Olana State Historic Site. These bold, frilly-edged perennial poppies were in full late-day sun, which forced me to work quickly. I like the resulting freshness and fullness of this one.
Tips and Techniques– Notice the treatment of foliage in these two pieces. In the pink annual poppies, I decided to leave out the leaves to to showcase the simple grace of the stems and flowers. In contrast, putting in a suggestion of gray-green foliage offers a useful compliment to the red poppies at Olana. Remember that as an artist, you are also an editor. Just because it’s there, doesn’t mean you have to paint it. Make choices about what’s in front of you to simplify and hone in on what you want to convey.
It’s hard to imagine a lovelier “garden” in May than the meadow I stumbled upon while hiking at the Martin Van Buren Nature Trail in Kinderhook, New York. The preserve is mostly woodland, with stately oaks and maples that Van Buren himself would have seen more than 150 years ago. But a small clearing in the forest was gloriously golden this week, with masses of yellow flowers that any gardener would be hard pressed to recreate.
My own gardening efforts began in earnest several weeks ago. Unfortunately, I think I jumped the gun in a restless attempt to get things growing. Either from planting when it was still too cold or lack of regular watering, few of my seeds sprouted. So, I replanted last week and recruited my husband to do the watering. Fingers crossed, you’ll be seeing scenes from the Art Garden in the weeks and months to come.
Tips and Techniques– Gardens offer so much to artists! While flowers in full bloom are favorite subjects for many, consider the possibilities of sketching in the garden throughout the season. From seeds to seedlings to blossoms to faded foliage—challenge yourself to come up with creative ways to showcase what’s happening each month. This year especially, when so many of us are staying home instead of heading out to favored vacation spots, having a garden—or a few pots of flowers—may prove to be just the subject matter you need.
After a winter of painting with brown and earth-toned pigments, it feels extravagant to use so much magenta. But this particular variety of magnolia had magnificently deep-colored blossoms and I found myself dipping into paint pans that I rarely use. With the tree in full bloom and fallen petals on the ground it was a delight to be surrounding by so much color.
Tips and Techniques– When you are using a strong color like quinacridone magenta, it helps to tone it down. I used yellow ochre and aureolin yellow, which produce some lovely warm shades of pink. Mixing with cobalt blue gave me cooler and darker tones for shaded areas. Test out the reds in your paint box. Red plus yellow doesn’t always give you orange, especially when using cooler reds like alizarin crimson or quinacridone rose. Red plus yellow can produce excellent flesh tones and subtle pinks.
Sometimes, we just need yellow. Like when we’re waiting for spring greens to arrive after winter browns, or when the world has been turned upside down and we need a promise of hope. That’s when a burst of yellow forsythia or daffodils are just exactly right. Click any image here to view larger. Tips and Techniques– I love the way petals of forsythia blossoms seem to dance. There is a movement to them that is really fun to draw. But to draw every bloom could be too much. You want the burst of yellow, without so much crowding that you lose the dance. In this case, a spatter of paint added a touch of loose, uncontrolled color that complemented the flowers without overwhelming them.
A hard shake of a wet watercolor brush yields big drops (top left);
A stiff craft brush or old toothbrush flicked with your thumb results in a tighter concentration of marks (bottom);
An drop from an eye dropper about 10 inches above the paper gives big splashy drops.
If you don’t already use spatter in your painting, try it next time you want to enliven your subject or to achieve an effect that a controlled brush can’t.
A single lime. So simple, yet so many decisions. I had made an artist’s first decision: subject matter, but next came choices about style, composition, materials. I knew that once begun, each line or stroke would narrow some possibilities and open others. More decisions would follow: color, value, precision. At long last, I chose two paths—one botanical, the other more abstract. I worked on both at the same time, alternating between them as paint dried, until finally, I had only one final decision: when to stop.
And now, you decide: which appeals to you more?
Tips and Techniques– I did the botanical lime using a combination of colored pencil and watercolor, building up many layers to tone the lime and achieve subtly in the greens. I used negative painting techniques for the other, using mainly phthalo blue and nickel azo yellow. Both paints are fairly intense, transparent, and staining, so the blue did not overwhelm the yellow, as it might have with weaker yellows. This technique works well when there are layered shapes, so I added the suggestion of leaves, stems, and fruit to give it more dimension.
The November garden is as stark as the rest of the world. The vibrancy of the August palette has given way to browns and grays. A touch of green and ocher and russet remain. It isn’t much, but I’ll take it. A tangle of once-scarlet runner beans is all there is for a final garden painting.