Pride of Madeira

If you like spring flowers, April is the right time to visit Carmel-by-the-Sea. Calla lilies grow like weeds, the pink flowers of hardy ice plants are blooming all over the coast, and the conical purple spikes of Pride of Madeira cover landscaped beds as well as wild hillsides. I had never seen these shrubs before so I took a photo of one of the plants and posted it on Instagram with the question: does anyone know what these are? Of course many of my California friends responded because, besides being a native of the island of Madeira, the only other place where this plant is abundant is in coastal California. I thought I might not have a chance to paint the tall purple spikes, but I found a little time for this demo on the last day of my Carmel workshop. Painted on a pad of Arches CP paper, in the company of many bees, a ruby-throated (maybe) hummingbird, and a wonderful group of students.


California in spring

It’s been a great week of teaching with French Escapade in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California. Everything is so green here — Calla lilies, orange poppies and Pride of Madeira flowering everywhere — and we’ve had lots of sunny days, which is a good thing for this winter-weary Montrealer.

My first group of sketchers left this morning and another group arrives tonight, and in the middle I thought I’d share a few of the views we had this week.

On a sunny morning we set up along the wall at Lover’s Point in Pacific Grove. There were seals and otter not too far off in the water, pelicans flying above us, and perfect waves crashing over the rocks. This is the view from my easel. Excuse the bad iPhone shadow in the photo.

If you’ve been to Fisherman’s Wharf in Monterey, you know it’s pretty touristy and can get quite crowded, but we found a good viewpoint on the water side of the wharf, and some good afternoon light. It will be sailing season soon in Montreal and I can’t wait to get out there to paint the boats, both in and out of water.

On my day off today, we went for a long walk along the coast. Earlier in the week we had sketched Frank Lloyd Wright’s Clinton Walker House from a distance, but it’s much more striking from the other side, especially if you go down to the beach and get up close to it. Completed in 1952, it’s Wright’s only house on the coast, and it has a hexagonal floor plan and a big stone point jutting out into the water like a ship’s bow. I didn’t see any signs of life in the house today, but I did a bit of research and found out that it sold in 2023 for $22 million. If you are in this area, it’s really worth taking a walk on the beach to see it.


A new online course: Sketching Spring Flowers

I know I haven’t been posting much on my blog lately. I always miss that. But I have a good excuse. I’ve been painting lots of spring flowers, and after being so inspired by all the tulips at Cheekwood Gardens in Nashville, I decided to turn all that intensive flower painting into a new online course: Sketching Spring Flowers.

If you’re a long-time reader of this blog, you know that I love to paint spring flowers in my garden. I once even filled an accordion sketchbook with drawings from my garden after I planted 200 bulbs from Costco. This year, alas, I have no spring flowers in my garden, or none that I know of, because we moved house in November, well after planting season. But my former garden, and the one in Nashville, were the inspiration for this course. And I’m hopeful that next year I will have spring flowers in my own backyard again.

Here are a few of the watercolours we draw and paint in the new class: hyacinths in my window, crocuses as they open in the sun, and a wide swath of tulips blowing in the wind. And here’s a link to the course. Have a look! And as always, the course is on sale for $30 USD or $42 CAN for the first week and goes back up to the regular price of $35 USD or $47 CAN after April 9, 2024.


Berry Hill, Nashville

If I can, I usually arrive at least a day early at a new workshop location. I feel more comfortable teaching in a place that’s at least a little bit familiar to me. That was the case last week in Nashville. I arrived on Monday evening so I had Tuesday to drive around with my host and sketch in the Berry Hill neighbourhood of Nashville where Warehouse 521 is located. It’s a great area, and the art studio is surrounded by recording studios, small cafés and restaurants. I sketched Nashville Jam Co, which I thought was a music venue of some sort but it turns out that it’s a brunch place where they make their own jam. You can see all of my Nashville sketches in the latest issue of my newsletter The Wheelbarrow. And there’s a link there for a new YouTube video of me in my kitchen sketching these green onions.


As good as it gets

Happy first day of spring! This morning I had a snowy view outside my window in Montreal, but it certainly was more springlike last week when I was teaching in Nashville. I’ll post my urban sketches later in the week, but here’s one from my last day in Tennessee. On the recommendation of one of my workshop participants, we visited Cheekwood Estate and Gardens, just outside of Nashville in the suburb of Belle Meade. Besides flowering magnolia and cherry trees, there are over 250,000 bulbs in bloom. Daffodils and tulips as far as the eye can see. I sat on a bench in the sun to sketch these pink tulips, and then ate an ice cream for lunch. That’s about as good as it gets.


Like butterflies

I can’t stop painting these mini-daffodils. This time I painted them in my portrait format sketchbook. When I looked at them up close with all their delicate details, they reminded me of butterflies, so I added a deep sky blue background with some Prussian Blue. It’s not that easy to paint around all these shapes so I wet the paper first, as best I could, around the flowers. In some places I went back with a second wash of paint which ended up a little too dark in spots. Sketched in my Hahnemuhle 100% cotton sketchbook.


Daffodils

Last week I bought a pot of tiny daffodils. They seemed to hold all the promise of spring. At first only one bud was half open, and I could see the tiniest glimpse of yellowish orange. Each day since then a few more flowers have opened. I’ve painted them several times — at first, just a quick sketch of the pot on my window sill…

…and then today, the open flowers in all their spring glory. I chose to paint them this time without the pot, imagining that this might be how they would be coming out of the ground in my garden. This second time is painted in direct watercolour (no pencil drawing) with a dagger brush, using a limited palette of a few yellows, a few blues and a little Cadmium Orange that was left over on my palette from yesterday’s clementine sketch.


On my counter

Thanks to all of you who wrote encouraging words the other day when I went through a trashing paintings day. It was so comforting to know that we are all in this together, in different ways and on different days. I didn’t save the paintings to analyze what went wrong, but I will consider that for next time. In the meantime, you might enjoy this podcast I just listened to. It’s Kelly Ann Powers interviewing John MacDonald on the Learn to Paint Podcast. She’s a great interviewer and he’s a very articulate painter, and of course I was intrigued because one of the subjects they covered was what to do if you have a failed painting. Perfect timing, right?

I spent the last few grey days sketching stuff around the kitchen. My Kakimori dip pen was collecting dust in a drawer so I dusted it off and used it to draw the clementines. And then when my Lufa basket arrived, the spring onions with roots still attached were irresistible, so I drew those too. If you are interested in the painting process for either of these, I recorded them both and will post them to YouTube very soon.


Antidote

Today I ripped up three paintings. I had a bouquet of tulips in a vase in front of me, and no matter which way I tried to paint them (wet-in-wet, wet on dry or direct watercolour), they were just awful. They all went into the blue bin. Some days are like that. One failure after another.

When that happens I try to analyze why it didn’t work out. Bad planning is sometimes the answer. Impatience is another reason. Too much water on the brush. Too little water on the brush. Sometimes I even blame the subject — in this case maybe these tulips were just a little too pretty.

But I try not to get discouraged. And one way to do that is to paint something completely different. Something mundane and hopefully not so pretty. One option I considered was to sketch a messy shelf in my garage but it’s still a little too cold to sit in there, so instead I chose a shelf in my kitchen pantry. Same sorts of bottles and jars, but a little warmer. The garage shelf will still be there the next time I tear up three paintings.


Bois à vendre

It’s been a strange winter here. Not too much snow and wild fluctuations of temperature. There’s definitely more exposed ground than usual, especially in open areas like along the farm road where I go to find inspiration for painting. The patches of snow provide some contrast but they will likely be gone by Wednesday when the mercury will hit 15°C! Not our usual February weather.

I was hoping to paint this one from my car but on these country roads that I’ve been exploring near our new neighbourhood, there’s often no shoulder to stop on. Plus I feel a little awkward stopping the car to paint on someone’s private property. In a big city, it’s a little easier to be invisible in my car studio. It’s something I will have to figure out. Painted wet-in-wet on a quarter sheet of Saunders Waterford CP paper.