V is for Vellum

Buff tailed bumblebee Bombus terrestris, on kelmscott vellum

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”

Winston Churchill

Where has the time gone? I can hardly believe that it’s been over two weeks since my last blog post but recently I have been as busy as a bee in a wildflower meadow.

My Spice Market painting at the SBA's show in Westminster

The highlight of the past couple of weeks was my visit to the Society of Botanical Artists Exhibition in London. This year was the 30^th anniversary of the SBA and it really was an impressive celebration of Botanical Art. For a great review of the exhibition, read Katherine Tyrrell's excellent blogpost  

To my delight, an image of my painting was also used on the poster describing the theme of the exhibition.

I love visiting the SBA exhibition. It’s such a treat to be able to see such beautiful and inspiring art up close, but it was also really fantastic to meet up with all my friends, old and new. It made a great event into something really special.

This year I was honoured to be asked to do a demonstration of my work during the exhibition. Honoured and ever so slightly daunted, because the other demonstrating artists are all incredibly talented, award winning artists. Just seeing my name included on that list was a thrill. The lovely paintings hanging behind me are by Enzo Forgione

I decided to do my demonstration on vellum, because it’s the topic that I’m asked the most about. There is a video at the bottom of this post taken by my good friend Sarah Morrish.

I was fortunate because Paul Wright, the manager of William Cowley’s  the Parchment and Vellum makers, agreed to meet me at the exhibition. Paul is a self-confessed ‘vellum-nerd’, and he regaled myself and Sarah Morrish with wonderful stories about vellum, it’s history and how it is made. If you are curious about how vellum is made, there is a link to a video about it here (not for the squeamish) 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-SpLPFaRd0

I liked vellum before, but now I have an even greater respect for it. It’s easy to forget that each piece of vellum comes from a living creature (calf, sheep, goat), How that creature lived it's life really effects the appearance of the vellum. For example the calf that dies after a summer out roaming in the fields will have different skin (more tanned, less hair) than one that has been overwintered in a shed (paler and with visible hair follicles).

I should point out here that animals are NOT killed to make vellum, it is a byproduct of the meat industry. You can read a statement on the ethics here 

Paul from William Cowley's explains how vellum is made 

Vellum most typically comes from a calf, but can also come from a goat. Parchment comes from sheep. Sheep tend to have a lot of fat, so parchment is very thin and white, which means that it is not as suitable for painting.

A selection of  calfskin vellums showing the variety of colours and markings 

Manuscript vellum is very thin, almost transparent and creamy in colour. It’s more often used for calligraphy.

Natural calf vellum is my favourite vellum and the one that I use the most. Each piece is completely different and has it’s own character. It can range from a lovely honey colour to one that has a dark mottled appearance. I especially like the Veiny vellum, which has distinctive markings that give it character.

The mottled appearance of natural calf vellum (Erythrina lysistemon seedpods)

Kelmscott vellum is considered the best vellum for botanical artists. It is coated with a special chalky paste that is made from boiling up all the tiny vellum offcuts together with some secret ingredients. That paste is painted onto the vellum, allowed to dry and then sanded smooth. Then the whole process is repeated several times more until the vellum is quite thick and sturdy. This coating gives a beautifully velvety surface to paint on, which is so forgiving. You can wipe the paint off at any time, and also scratch into the surface, albeit carefully. I would definitely recommend kelmscott for vellum newbies. My only grumble is that the smooth white surface is a little bland in appearance in comparison to the natural calf vellum.

A close-up of a calmondin orange on kelmscott vellum. You can see how I scratched out details 

Goatskin vellum I like goatskin vellum because it has an interesting appearance with large visible pores. However these pores can present a problem when painting because the paint has a tendency to catch in the little holes. It’s probably better in this case to avoid subjects with a smooth shiny surface and go for something with texture instead.

Close up of a Iris foetidissima seedhead on goatskin vellum. You can just about make out the large pores on the surface of the goatskin.

Preparing vellum

I use a bag of pumice powder that I bought in Cornelissen. A large bag costs £5.50 and is enough to last a lifetime! 

Because I was flying into London, I didn’t fancy explaining a bag of white powder in HM Customs, so a kind friend supplied me with a small pot for the demo. 

I brought my own footie though! You put some of the powder into the footsock and gently rub the surface of the vellum to remove any grease spots.

Kelmscott does not need to get the ‘powdered footsock rub’ as it is already prepared, but as with all vellum you do need to take care not to touch the surface with your fingers as you can transfer grease onto the surface which can repel the paint.

I also use the powdered rub to remove graphite or to knock back some of the painted areas if I feel that they are losing tooth. This happened when I was painting the grapes and it got to the point where I couldn’t add any more layers (the paint had started to lift). The grape second from the right has been rubbed back.

I use a soft brush (the fan brushes are ideal) to dust off the powder.

Mounting vellum

Vellum will always try to go back to the shape of the animal it once was. It is sensitive to heat and humidity, and can buckle and roll up quite alarmingly. Don’t worry though, it will settle down and lie flat once more. I found that the blue scotch tape is the only thing that can tape it down effectively. Masking tape and even brown painters tape can’t hold it down for long.

Vellum buckling within it’s mount and frame can also be a huge problem. I discussed this with Paul and he suggested that for larger pieces, more space should be left around the painting than would normally be left for with paper (think of Rory McEwen and how much space he left).  Ideally with larger pieces, the vellum should be mounted onto board. It’s something that I have never tried, so I was very interested to hear that William Cowley’s also offer a vellum mounting service. 

(Oh yes!! that’s next year’s Christmas present sorted then! With bevelled edges please).

Painting on vellum

The key ingredient with vellum is PATIENCE.

I try to avoid drawing on vellum as the graphite can smear, and the putty rubber can leave a mark. I prefer to transfer my drawing using tracing paper. My first washes are usually quite wet, but you need to make sure that once the wash is laid, you leave it alone until they are dry! Paint seems to go onto vellum lighter than it does on paper. The paint needs to get progressively drier with each layer. I usually dry the brush off on a piece of kitchen towel before I touch the vellum. If the brush is too wet, it will disturb the lower layers and before you know it, you are pushing globs of pigment around in circles. Sometimes it better in this circumstance to reach for the powder-filled footie and when the paint is dry, give it a gentle rub.  It takes time to build up the colours. When it goes wrong it’s frustrating, but when it goes right, the results are beautiful.

Grapes on natural calfskin vellum, finished

It’s definitely worthwhile paying attention to your pigments and sorting out the transparent and semi-transparent ones from the opaque colours. I do use opaque colours, but usually in the first washes only.

I just want to say thank you to all the lovely people who came to my demo, and to the people who came up to me and told me that they read my blog (you know who you are). It was humbling and heart-warming to get such great feedback. Thank you.

Many thanks to Katherine Tyrrell and to Sarah Morrish for taking the photographs and allowing me to share them here.

Exciting Times!

Grape practice on vellum (unfinished)

“Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is more people who have come alive”

– Howard Thurman

Spring has finally arrived bringing in an excitement of warm sunshine, blossoms and bees.

I've plenty of reasons to be smiling this week because London is beckoning! 

Yes, the Society of Botanical Artists are holding their annual exhibition in Westminster, London, and it’s always an inspiring and exhilarating event. The theme this year is In Pursuit of Plants and my Spice Market painting is part of the exhibition.

The Spice Market  ©Shevaun Doherty 2014

 http://botanicalsketches.blogspot.ie/2014/07/the-spice-market.html

This year is the 30^th anniversary of the SBA, so there are also daily tours and demonstrations being held. I am delighted to say that I have been invited to be one of the demonstrating artists, which is a huge honour as well as slightly daunting!

So what to paint? I always get asked a lot of questions about painting on vellum, so it seemed the ideal choice of subject. My purple paints were already out, so I decided to do a few quick studies of grapes this week to work out the colours that I will need to bring with me.

It’s always a challenge to paint a fruit and retain the bloom on the surface. I have found that using a combination of cerulean and cobalt violet in my first washes really helps establish the bloom colours. I also used a recent purchase, Daniel Smith’s Verditer Blue which is a lovely light and transparent blue (think summer skies).

I did a practice grape on paper first and then selected a small piece of natural calf vellum. 

If you are thinking about trying vellum, it’s worth contacting William Cowley who make parchment and vellum and asking them for some of their small offcuts. There is a small fee for this, but it’s a great way of trying out all the different types of vellum. Kelmscott is the best one for beginners as it has a beautiful chalky surface that is so forgiving, but I prefer the subtle earthy markings of natural calfskin. It’s a matter of personal taste.

Painting dark colours on vellum is always a challenge. To retain the translucency you need a lot of layers of transparent colours and oodles of patience. I decided to paint a small sprig of grapes and leave some of them unfinished to show the underlying layers. When I do my demo I will paint a few small grapes to show the dry brush techniques but this small studies and colour charts will also help explain how it’s done.

So if you are in London on 17^th April, be sure to come along and say hello!

I'm off to pack my paints and brushes… let the adventure begin!

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Catch the trade winds in your sails. 

Explore. Dream. Discover.”

– Mark Twain

Purple

 “There are times when we need certain colours. 

They nourish the soul in a way nothing else does “

Catherine Jo Morgan

I’m craving colour. 

I have had an earthy palette on my desk for the past couple of weeks, but now I’m yearning for some juicy pigments. With a workshop coming up and a demo at the SBA in London to prepare for, 

I decided to pull out the paints and delve into purple!

Over the years I’ve collected quite a number of purple pigments. My favourite ones are definitely the Schmincke range Quinacridone Violet, Manganese violet and Purple magenta. I’d certainly be lost without my Winsor & Newton Cobalt violet…  that colour seems to make it’s way into every painting that I do. I also like the W&N winsor violet for it’s rich deep tones. My most recent purple purchase is Daniel Smith’s Moonglow, which makes a wonderful shadow colour.

The dried flower calyces of Hibiscus sabdariffa are a beautiful dark purple colour which gives them a curious mystical quality

Purple is one of those deeply evocative colours. It can be sensual, mysterious and incredibly versatile. From inky blacks to flamboyant magentas to the soft soothing tones of lavender, purple is a colour that has captivated and inspired us for centuries.

And it all started off with a sea snail

A Murex sea shell 

In the 15^th century BC, the Phoenicians discovered that some sea snails (Bolinus brandaris, the spiny dye-murex and Hexaplex trunculus the banded dye-murex ) secreted a mucus that could be used to dye cloth a rich purple colour. This colour did not fade, but instead became brighter with weathering and sunlight. 

In fact the word Phoenician derives from the ancient Greek word phoínios meaning "purple"

Fresh olives from Egypt

The Phoenicians grew wealthy from trading in olive oil, gold, silver and cedar wood from the mountain forests of their homeland, Lebanon. However the sumptuous purple dye of the murex snail was their most valuable asset. 

It took a staggering twelve thousand Murex snails to make 1.4 g of pure dye, which was just enough for a single garment. 

The whole process was time consuming, laborious and incredibly foul smelling.

The dye, known as Tyrian Purple became a status symbol, associated with royalty. Special laws were passed restricting the use of purple. Only the Roman Emperor could wear a Tyrian purple cape trimmed in golden thread and only a Roman senator could have a purple stripe on his toga. Even the royal birthing chambers had to be purple.

Dutch iris, gouache on board ©Shevaun Doherty 2014

The production of Tyrian Purple eventually came to a halt in 1204 with the Siege of Constantinople, when it just became too expensive to keep producing. The secret to Tyrian purple was lost for centuries.

I found this recipe which made me smile. Go on, I dare you to try it.
http://www.ehow.com/how_8530292_make-tyrian-purple.html

 The choke was painted using Cobalt violet, Helio blue, Purple lake (quin violet would also work), Egyptian violet (Lefranc & Bourgeois), Permanent blue violet (Rembrandt), winsor violet and perylene maroon. 

In 1856, a young chemistry student Sir William Henry Perkin, accidently created the first synthetic purple dye from aniline. He called it Mauveline. Once again purple became the colour of royalty. Queen Victoria discarded her black robes of mourning and wore instead a mauve silk gown to the Royal Exhibition of 1862, . The purple frenzy was soon copied by Empress Eugenie, wife of  Napoleon III, which then sparked the "Mauve Madness" that swept Europe in the 1860s. 

Purple was back.

 “Mauve is just pink trying to be purple“

James Abbott McNeill Whistler

In 1896 a new set of synthetic pigments were created from aniline, the Quinacridones. A favourite of mine, these colours are transparent, non-toxic and resistant to fading. In 1955 the DuPont company decided to use the quinacridones to create paint for the automobile industry, giving rise to a funky range of bright colourful cars from golden yellow to bright red to deep purple. 

Jacob's Coat, Acalypha wilkesiana ©Shevaun Doherty 2010

Fortunately for us, the  Quins were also made into artists paints. I think that they are a must for watercolourists as it’s hard to beat their transparency and lightfastness. They give a welcome glow to any painting. I enjoyed reading this great blogpost on quinacridone. It’s worth reading.

http://www.janeblundellart.com/quinacridone-colours.html

As for me, well, my purple paints are calling out to come and play.

“All the other colours are just colours, but purple seems to have a soul. Purple is not just a noun and an adjective but also a verb - when you look at it, it's looking back at you”

Uniek Swain

Fabulous Fruit

Turk's cap gourd, Cucurbita maxima © Shevaun Doherty 2012

“Let the beauty of what you love be what you do"

-Rumi

 Art makes me want to leap out of bed every morning and rush down to the studio to paint. 

What started out as a keen interest in the natural world and a strong desire to create has grown into a full blown passion for botanical art. I really enjoy what I do.

“The object isn’t to make art, it’s to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable.” 

Robert Henri

When I first started out, I painted and drew anything that I found. I loved keeping a sketchbook (and still do), because it took away the need to create a finished piece and allowed me the freedom to experiment and play. 

. 

Over time, I discovered that there were colour palettes that called to me (oranges, reds and earth colours), whilst others (blues and purples) have been strangely neglected.  

Even my choice of subjects has been a revelation. I’ve realised that flowers are not high on my list of Top Ten Things to Paint, although I love flowers. Those roses still await their turn on my table. My sketchbooks are instead filled with seedpods, pinecones, grasses and insects

But the thing that I enjoy painting most is FRUIT.

Above all I enjoy the challenge of getting the right colour mixes, and trying to capture the waxy bloom on the surface of the skin.  All plants have this bloom, some more so than others You can see it quite clearly on fruit such as olives, plums and grapes.

For years people thought that this bloom was caused by wild yeast cells, but they have recently discovered that this bloom, or epicuticular wax, is part of the plant and has a very important role. It seals the plant and prevents water loss. It also reflects UV radiation and deters insects by making it difficult for them to walk on or lay eggs. Amazingly if the wax is accidently rubbed off the plant, it will grow back. Finally it helps the plant to self-clean, causing water to bead up and roll off, taking particles of dirt and dust with it. You can read more about this here

Bloom is also notoriously difficult to depict in watercolours, particularly when the use of white is so frowned upon. I know that some artists do mix a tiny bit of cobalt with white gouache and drybrush it on afterwards, but most (myself included) carefully paint the bloom first and build up the darker colours around it.

I also love the challenge of creating form… the illusion that you can reach out and pick it up off the page. When I first started painting botanicals, I remember feeling quite confused by the term “disappearing edges”, which is often used to describe how the surface of a fruit curves away from you. It took me a while to understand this concept, and how to paint it. A better way to describe this process is to say “bring the middle bit forward”, although admittedly that’s a bit of a mouthful! 

To create this effect, you use warmer colours in the centre of the fruit, and build up the layers of transparent colours so that the middle part is the most saturated, leaving the paint around the edges is quite thin.

The Temptation of Eve  © Shevaun Doherty 2014

The best thing about painting fruit though is that they are patient. They sit and allow you to take your time, unlike the impatient flowers who are constantly changing their position and colour. 

And fruit tastes good too!

If you are interested in learning more, I will be giving a two day workshop on painting fruit on April 20^th and 21^st in my home. For more details please contact me on shevaun.doherty (at) gmail.com

"Fruits ... like having their portrait painted. They seem to sit there and ask your forgiveness for fading. Their thought is given off with their perfumes. They come with all their scents, they speak of the fields they have left, the rain which has nourished them, the daybreaks they have seen."

Paul Cézanne

Buzzing

“Spring~ the music of open windows”

Terri Guillemets

Spring has finally arrived in a burst of blue skies, blossoms and bumblebees. 

I love this time of year when the world awakes from it's winter sleep and new life begins. Gardeners and Botanical artists are eternal optimists, dreaming and planning for the months ahead. 
It's a very busy time of year.

Bees have been on my mind quite a lot in recent weeks.

In Spring, the new queen bees emerge from hibernation. Each queen needs 6000 flowers a day to build up enough energy reserves to start a new hive.

 Last month I went to the Pollinators Symposium at the National Biodiversity Data Centre  with a vague idea that sometime in the future, I would like to create a series of paintings highlighting the relationship between plants and insects. I wanted to learn more about this topic. I came away feeling so inspired and motivated to get involved. Bees really need our help. So I've signed up to become a Bee Monitor. 

To become a bee monitor, all you need to do is to agree to give an hour your time each month (March-October) to go on a designated Bee Walk of your choosing, and record the bees that you see. You will need to do a little bit of homework beforehand to become familiar with all the different types of bees around, but there are plenty of ID charts online. The data that is collected is vital to help scientists get a better picture of what is happening around the world to bee populations.

It’s not too late to get involved! There is also a similar UK scheme  here

If you aren’t able to commit to Bee Monitoring, then be more Bee Aware. Plant bee- friendly flowers in your garden and leave a strip of long grass with wild flowers in your garden.

Most importantly, STOP USING PESTICIDES.  

 Whilst there are restrictions on the chemicals that farmers spray on crops, a lot of the harmful products are sold to the general public in garden centres and hardware stores. There is no such thing as a selective pesticide. If it kills aphids, it kills bees. If you are unsure, here is a list of products to avoid- 
 http://www.pan-uk.org/home-garden/list-of-home-and-garden-pesticides-containing-neonicotinoids

It hasn’t been all bees and buzzing though. Life has been a busy whirl of meetings and appointments recently, so I’ve reluctantly had to put aside the roses and paint something that won’t wilt or fade. Dried leaves and seed cases make wonderful subjects for those times when you only have a few hours to paint.

Building up the layers of colour in this old Horse Chestnut leaf.
There are more details of the progression on my facebook page

The deadline for the Botanical Art in Bloom is fast approaching, and so I decided to paint a couple of tiny vellum pieces and make a Conker painting triptych. Bloom is a fantastic event to be involved in, and last year's event was a particularly joyful one for me. 

Two parts of the triptych. (Ignore the blue tape!)

To harmonise the painting, I'm sticking to the palette that I used in the conker painting~

 Cerulean, Cobalt violet, Indanthrene, Natural sienna (DS), Quinacridone gold deep (DS), Magnesium brown, Brown madder, Burnt Umber, Perylene maroon, Perylene Violet, Raw Umber, Transparent brown (DS) and my new favourite Moonglow (DS)

Planning out the composition... I still don't know whether I will include the small conker, but it will certainly be repositioned for balance.

I've taken a bit of liberty with the stalk here as you can see, so that it added to the overall composition. As long as it is botanically correct, then it's fine to use a bit of artistic licence. I'm still undecided by the small conker and will probably leave it out. Maybe.

I've still a fair bit to do on this conker case, but I'm excited by the abstract patterns emerging. 

The roses will be making an appearance once I've got this little triptych finished. I have a very busy month ahead, particularly as the Society of Botanical Artists will be having their annual exhibition in London. This year I will be giving a demo on vellum painting during the exhibition, so if you around Westminster on Friday 17th April, please come and say hello.

Life may be a buzz with new happenings, but it’s good.

I will leave you with this short video about bumble bees. Isn't nature incredible?

"Hoe while it is spring, and enjoy the best anticipations. 

 It is not much matter if things do not turn out well."

 Charles Dudley Warner

War of the Roses

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”

 Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

If flowers are a language, then few can match the eloquence of a rose. It’s a flower that evokes so many emotions- love, passion, tenderness, joy and frustration. Yes, frustration! For roses are one of the most difficult subjects to paint.

Now I’d be the first to admit that roses are not one of my favourite flowers, but every now and then I’ll come across a seductive beauty, sweet smelling and sumptuous, and I feel the urge to paint.

Rosa centifolia (cabbage rose) by Pierre Joseph Redouté (Image from Wikipedia)

Of course, you can’t talk about botanical art and roses, without mentioning Pierre Joseph Redouté. His work is just so breathtakingly beautiful that it’s hardly surprising that he continues to inspire artists even today. There are many fine contemporary painters of roses too- I particularly love the work of Billy Showell and Vincent Jeannerot. They make painting roses look effortless.

Alas, the reality is often far from that, and I have a collection of bad roses to prove my humiliating defeats. 

What starts off so well, soon resembles a discarded snotty pink tissue. Bleuh! 

My only consolation is the realisation that I’m not alone in my inability to capture the subtlety of a rose. I was surprised and more than a little relieved to find that many of my botanical art friends share my frustration.

However, every now and then, I get the urge to tackle a rose again. 

Last week I visited The Enchanted Florist, quite simply the best florist in Dublin. So bewitched was I by the dazzling array of colour and perfume, and charmed by the owner Yasmin, that I carried away a stunning bouquet of roses with an irresistible urge to paint. 

Pulling apart a rose and painting the petals individually helps to identify the colours

Well, it has to be said that having roses on your desk is not a bad thing. They look so pretty and the scent is divine. These roses are called Memory Lane, and are a gorgeous dusty pink colour, with creamy outer petals. After the many layers of the Mambo lily, I thought that painting a pale flower would prove far less troublesome. Ha!

How wrong I was. It’s been the Battle of the Roses this week. My collection of bad roses grows. 

Finding the right colour match was not difficult. Naples, Cobalt violet and Cerulean were all good for the first washes. Rose madder (W&N) and Rhodonite (DS) led the pinks, followed by Purple lake and a smidgeon of Rose dore (sennelier. The pinks were balanced by the introduction of indanthrene and winsor lemon for my greens. A new purchase of Daniel Smith Moonglow, a delicious shadow purple, helped everything come together.

Roses are fickle and lack patience. The buds burst open and the petals drop with startling speed. They require big juicy washes and big brushes to blend and tease out the pigments. I’m a dry brush and magnifier kind of girl, so I struggle with wet on wet. This technique of painting takes me out of my comfort zone and adds yet more bad roses to my pile. 

But I persist.

The seductive charm of the rose is strong. This battle is not over yet.

"Try again. Fail again. Try better."

Samuel Beckett