Make your mark

I enjoyed this article from the Guardian today. I love drawing but often feel it is treated as a lesser being than painting. I’m glad others enjoy and respect it too.

Make your mark: the enduring joy of drawing 

From the Lascaux caves to the notepad doodle, we have always been drawn to draw. On the eve of the UK’s first art fair dedicated to drawing, we celebrate the freest and first of all art forms

Published: 09:00 Sunday, 21 April 2019

Art starts with a drawing – specifically a drawing by a clever young girl named Kora, otherwise known as the Maid of Corinth. Kora is a teenager in ancient Greece who has fallen in love with a soldier. Alas he is called up to war. Desperate to keep hold of him, or some memory of his handsome presence, Kora asks him to stand against a wall in bright sunlight so she can draw the outline of his shadow. His trace remains, held there for ever by her perfect line. And thus drawing is born, at least according to Pliny.

It’s a tall story. We all know that drawing goes right back to the wild horses running across the caves of Lascaux, to the prehistoric riders of Bhimbetka and the magnificent bison of Altamira. There are drawings on ice-age animal skins and ancient Egyptian papyruses. But the story of Kora endures, partly because she has a name, but also because she is driven to drawing by love: you might say that the Maid of Corinth is, like many of us, a passionate amateur.

Drawing is democracy. Everyone does it. You doodle in the margins of this newspaper. I sketch the view while hanging on the phone. We draw on our hands, on walls, on the back of envelopes (like Monet), on office notepaper (like Van Gogh), on restaurant napkins (like Picasso and Warhol). We draw to pass the time, to catch the moment, to remind ourselves what we saw, felt or thought. We draw to see what life looks like in two dimensions. We draw because we can – and everyone can – and because we’re trying to improve. We draw to see what we can make of the world, or for the sheer joy of it; to show something to somebody else – here, this is what it looked like. We draw to make a map, with a couple of decorative trees; to see if our two-circle cat looks anything like the real thing; to play games with each other, show the police what we witnessed, send a message to someone else; to give each other something particular, something special, to say something that cannot otherwise be said. We all do it. And we do it from the first.

Drawing is the speech of art. The words we utter, the stories we tell. It comes before writing – tiny infants do it – and quite often after script has departed (my artist mother can scarcely write now, in her 90s, yet still she draws). Holding a stub of crayon or chalk comes early and late. All children scrawl and scribble at first, absorbed by their own power to leave marks on paper; then they may describe something seen in the world. The sun is a circle radiating ray lines, a flower the same but with loops, stick figures abound from Lascaux to the present day. Perhaps it is true, as the Swiss psychologist Jean Piaget proposed, that children’s drawings have a universal quality. Certainly our brains are able to read two dots and a dash as a face from the earliest age, just as it is, for most of us, the configuration of our first drawn portrait.

Detail of a prehistoric cave drawing in Lascaux, France. Photograph: Getty Images

But though we all draw, the belief persists that we cannot draw, that there is some correct way to do it beyond our talent or ken. Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, Dürer – they were the masters, they showed us the heights to which we can’t hope to aspire. This defeatism still holds fast in some place, despite a century of ice-breaking modern art, and every kind of drawing from the mescaline-drivenhallucinations of Henri Michaux to the fine lines of an Agnes Martin grid. Picasso’s famous remark, adapted – that it took him only four years to draw like Raphael, but a lifetime to draw like a child – used to be everywhere quoted as a call to break free of academic tradition: no more drawing from plaster casts of Roman sculptures. But his epigram fell out of fashion at roughly the same time as the teaching of drawing itself, somewhere in the mid-1980s.

This great art – that makes ideas visible on paper, that shows the mind and hand working together, and all at once – was gradually required less and less often in schools and colleges. Conceptual art, performance art, installation, video, film and digital art: they all made drawing (supposedly) redundant. By the 1990s, life classes were fading out of art schools everywhere and Goldsmiths notoriously banned the practice, in case it objectified the female model. You can’t draw and yet you call yourself an artist: the old jibe, turned on its head, became a statement of fact for many contemporary practitioners (not coincidentally, the arid technocratic term that took hold around that time). Except that this is not how it was for anyone who loved to draw, to look at drawings, to attend evening classes, even just to get down on paper the sights of our lives, or our minds, however crudely – that is to say, the rest of the world.

Of all the many privileges of my job as art critic for this newspaper, not least is the chance to see drawings everywhere – in public exhibitions and private studios, the image sometimes arriving there and then on the page (as performed by Paula Rego and Ken Kiff, who started every morning with drawings). In desiccated old folios where the dust dances on the page as you examine Gainsborough’s 10-second sketch of his daughter laughing. In the vaults of the Louvre, where the white-gloved handler had to turn away from a sketch of a disillusioned actor by Daumier to stifle the sneeze that might have blown the chalk away.

I can’t paint to any standard, but my inner draughtsman instinctively traces all these drawings. This must surely be a common primal urge, a way of entering an image (and the world) more completely. As a child, my favourite book was Catherine Storr’s Marianne Dreams, in which a bedridden girl makes drawings with the stub of a pencil to pass the time – a garden, a house, a figure at the window – only to discover that she can move about inside this house at night in her dreams, and then alter the narrative of those dreams by day as she draws and redraws her pictures. This, for me, was the true power of drawing.

And now this art has come stealthily back to the front of the stage. If you’ve been keeping your eyes open, you will have noticed the rise of drawing shows in recent years. Not just the masters – Michelangelo at the Royal Academy, Raphael at the Ashmolean, Leonardo da Vinci: A Life in Drawing, currently on at 12 different venues across Britain, and culminating in an all-together-now show at the Queen’s Gallery, London, in May – but the drawings of Monet and Degas, of Klimt and Schiele and Jackson Pollock, on to Agnes Martin, Bridget Riley and Rachel Whiteread. Whiteread’s drawings seem to me far superior to her sculptures. When I was a baby critic, a veteran colleague once told me to avoid drawing shows at all costs, since they were just preliminary exercises. But some of the greatest shows I have ever seen were composed entirely of graphic masterworks: Goya’sBlack Border album, the drawings of Watteau, Botticelli’s astonishing illustrations for Dante’s Inferno, in which hell drills down like a tornado beneath the Earth’s crust: tiers of theatrical balconies from which tiny figures topple, descending to an everlasting winter – simply an icy-blue line, a circle from which no soul can ever return.

Abyss of Hell, 1480-1490, one of Botticelli’s illustrations to Dante’s Divine Comedy. Photograph: Alamy

Drawing was always cool, always close, immediate, contemporary. Now drawing has returned to art colleges up and down the country. Every year, the Royal Drawing School receives hundreds of applications for its unique Drawing Year course, which allows postgraduate students to draw night and day, for free, and with the constant support of tutors who also teach public classes in still life, interior, draped figure, and life drawing in ink, charcoal and even iPad.

Collections of drawings are assembled by public museums but also private collectors. The latter often give to the former. Dürer’s drawings – including the incomparable hare, quivering with life in every line – are part of a magnificent collection founded by Duke Albert of Saxen-Teschen in 1776 that now includes a million masterpieces on paper. These are loaned to lucky galleries around the world by Vienna’s Albertina Museum, just as our British Museum sends its great drawing collection out into the world. The late Milanese jeweller Pino Rabolini, following the duke’s example in the 1960s, put together a body of drawings from De Chirico and Morandi through to arte povera and beyond that is nothing less than a survey of Italian art through the 20th century. It includes marvels made with pinpricks, DayGlo markers, wax crayons, Rotring pens and even iron compounds (back to Lascaux). You can see a selection now at London’s Estorick Collection.

And this spring, the very first art fair dedicated entirely to modern and contemporary drawings opens at the Saatchi Gallery in London. Draw Art Fair will showcase images by Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud and Frank Auerbach, alongside European masters from Jean Dubuffet to Francis Picabia. The fair’s founder, Laurent Boudier, who also started Le salon du dessin contemporain in Paris, likes to quote from that impeccable genius, Ingres, god to generations of draughtsmen from Degas to Hockney, on the essence of drawing. “To draw does not simply mean to reproduce contours; drawing is also expression, the inner content…Drawing is the probity of art.”

Frank Auerbach, Self Portrait IV, 2018. Photograph: Frank Auerbach/courtesy Marlborough Fine Art

As a young man in Rome, Ingres summarised the faces of English expats in a pencil line so lithe and concise he could make enough money to support his new family in a few quick sittings a day. Drawings are made to be sold, like paintings, but perhaps for many more reasons. Dürer drew himself naked, pointing to the spot on his side where it hurt, specifically for a doctor to diagnose his condition. Schiele drew himself, repeatedly, in a prison cell to record each day of his confinement. He also drew his friend and mentor Gustav Klimt as a corpse in the morgue, commemorating Klimt’s handsome face in death, as if unable to say goodbye.

Louise Bourgeois drew to relax. Her Insomnia Drawings, of gorgeous blue rivers flowing among scarlet mountains, were made to achieve peace in the sleepless dark hours. Michaux drew his drug-induced hallucinations for release, transmitting the unpredictable shivers straight on to the page in ink. Goya drew what he witnessed, to record the terrible horrors of war; “I saw this”, he writes upon the pages of the Black Border album.

Self-Portrait with Hand on the Forehead by Kathe Kollwitz. Photograph: Alamy

There is drawing for survival, in the devastating self-portraits of the great German artist Käthe Kollwitz – head in hand, in mourning, hunger, poverty and war. And drawing in old age – Degas, nearly blind in his 80s, did almost nothing but draw. At 80, the Japanese master Hokusai was once found weeping at his workbench because he had not yet learned enough about drawing. Three years later he drew himself with one hand raised high like a signpost, jaunty finger pointing ever onwards. It is known as Old Man Mad About Drawing.

Drawing catches the historic moment before, and after, the advent of photography. A sketch made only inches from Charles I during his trial before parliament shows the king exhausted and irritable, yet unbowed before his fate. David, in revolutionary Paris, drew Marie-Antoinette on her way to the guillotine, teeth gone, mouth sunken and hair chopped to nothing beneath a mob cap. There is humanity as well as shock in the drawing, and perhaps the medium is made for it, the mind transmitting its first observations and feelings directly to the hand.

Henry Moore, official artist of the second world war, drewsleepers sheltering in London underground stations during air raids. Their bodies, heads and limbs are united in the undulating rhythms of Moore’s drawing: soothed, as it seems, by his hand. These fragile monuments of human endurance are in so many ways more powerful than his muckle bronze sculptures.

Drawing records what painting may overlook. Think of Rembrandt’s infant learning to walk, little wrists supported by two doting women; or his baby mussing the remaining hair of a patient old man. There is a breathing immediacy to every sketch. Rembrandt’s young wife Saskia having her hair combed, falling asleep or looking seductively back at her husband, a dog peeing, two friends dropping by, all dashed off with intense concentration like phrases in a diary.

David’s pencil sketch of Marie-Antoinette on her way to the guillotine. Photograph: Granger Historical Picture Archive/Alamy

Rembrandt takes a walk in the country, in 1664, and sees a teenager dangling from a gibbet, hanged for killing her landlady by accident. The features of her poor face are barely formed, her socks are full of holes. What made him draw the scene is surely the same compulsive passion for the world in all its truth, beauty and injustice, an almost militant naturalism that drives him to draw his own ruined face, sinking into lonely age.

Would we know Rembrandt’s mind so well without the drawings, many of them discovered in private folders after his death? It is miraculous that so many works of art on fragile paper – and in such fugitive media: silverpoint, chalk and pastel, fading pencil and chalk – have actually survived. Drawings are lost to mildew, flames, house moves, the over-scribblings of others, or outright self-destruction. The Italian master Bernini tore a magnificent self-portrait drawing with his mistress in two when she had the gall to leave him. Michelangelo destroyed many drawings in the last months of his life.

An assistant described Michelangelo around this time standing barefoot and drawing for hours with a compulsion that caused him to pass out. Those late chalk images, revised again and again until they appear quite spectral, are of Christ’s death, and feel like murmured prayers. The medium and scale are as potent, for Michelangelo, as any Sistine-sized fresco. And almost the smallest image among his drawings is his greatest emblem – the hand of God reaching out to Adam in The Creation. Not much bigger than an inch, but a lightning bolt of pure conception. The hand is drawn from the life; perhaps it was Michelangelo’s own.

To the modern eye, these drawings are not just provisional images but autonomous works of art. The idea of drawing as mere rehearsal surely went out with Michelangelo and Leonardo. It is true that some later artists kept their drawings hidden. Gauguin was horrified when a critic asked to see his sketchbooks. “My drawings? Never! They are my letters, my secrets.” But even in the Renaissance, when paper finally became readily available, artists gave or sold their drawings to collectors who admired their gift for illusion. Just to be able to draw a perfect circle, freehand, was a sufficient feat to attract a crowd in a Florentine court.

And so it remains. Children used to ask my painter father to draw circles, which he would then turn into planets, flying balls or fantastical fruit, whatever they wished. To see the world transformed into two-dimensional images, materialising on the page with a humble 2B, is after all to witness a form of magic.

Drawing has lately diversified into performance art, with mass gatherings of people drawing together, or artists creating works live in front of an audience. But the precedents run back for ever. Picasso drew live, on glass, cameras on the other side filming the event. In the 18th century, the French painter Watteau made many drawings of dancers, actors, wanderers, fellow artists – his intimate circle. Airy and deft, the wiry line moving nimble across the page, these chalk drawing were more than just a form of private rehearsal, they were public performances in themselves. Watteau kept them in volumes and took them for show wherever he went. They were coveted, and sold, during his lifetime.

If it weren’t for a rococo frill round one wrist, Watteau’s drawing of hands would look as contemporary as the same subject drawn by Manet, Van Gogh or Picasso. Drawing transcends both era and time. Even the hoariest old master can look up-to-the-minute when drawing; and a drawing that took days to finish can look as fresh as one made in seconds.

To draw is to see, to learn, to understand. It is thought on the page; pure discovery, in John Berger’s phrase. It may describe the story of its own making, the trials and errors and corrections, the line hurtling or slowing, hesitant or incisive, perhaps finally triumphant. It gets to the page live and direct, brain to nib or sharpened tip, without the encumbrances of any other media. It is a tradition, and yet not a grand one; the poor may do it as well as the rich. In the 20th century it expands to meet every new movement: cubism, abstract expressionism, minimalism, pop. Drawing is evergreen, always renewing itself.

Gespenst eines Genies (Ghost of a Genius), 1922, by Paul Klee. Photograph: Archivart/Alamy

Taking a line for a walk, Paul Klee called it, as he put drawing through its paces from the most elementary forms. A dot is an eye, a mouth or the moon. Two more and a landscape appears. The dots turn into a line, which becomes a tightrope, a street, the steady surface of a lake or the perch for his twittering avian assembly.

Three lines stream across a page and a river appears, eddying with the slightest linear fluctuation. A triangle produces a pyramid or a passing yacht. Klee makes worlds with the simplest of marks. Pictograms, hieroglyphics, high art: his scintillating visions fuse the ancient with the modern.

Jackson Pollock loved Klee’s spindly black lines and his scratchy irreverence. Picasso studied Goya’s graphic art from first to last. Any canon of classic drawings would surely include both artists, along with hundreds of other masterpieces by spectacular performers on paper.

Think of Dürer’s Praying Hands, in ink and chalk, rising to heaven like the hope they depict; or his first surviving drawing, made at 13, a self-portrait in silverpoint from the most complicated three-quarter angle. Think of anything by Leonardo, from the unborn child tucked inside its mother’s nutshell womb to Vitruvian Man whirling for ever in his own span. Or Holbein’s astonishingly descriptive line in portraits that capture the slightest anxiety in an eye, or glimmer of humour in a mouth, offstage characterisations that bring his sitters live and direct into our present.

Some people love Jasper Johns’s drawings, simply made with his fingers like our ancestors on the dark cave walls. Or the graceful drawings of Matisse, undulating like the female forms they depict. Or the marvellously spare lines of Ellsworth Kelly’s citrus fruit, as close to abstraction, almost, as his paintings.

Others prefer the strange nocturnal light of Seurat’s black Conté crayon sketches, scenes of Paris arriving through an atmosphere of complete mystery on to the fine-grained paper. Or the exquisite op-art rhythms of a Bridget Riley drawing, swaying or sparking on the page. Or the explosive wall-scale works of Julie Mehretu, made on a crane, rushing towards some emergency climax.

A Group of Pine Trees, 1889, by Van Gogh. Photograph: Alamy

Van Gogh’s drawings are, for me, masterpieces of originality and invention: lines streaking down the canvas on a dark day, so that you realised that rain was in some way comparable to drawing for the artist. The cedillas and hyphens, flecks and startling ink vectors that indicate the shining harvest, the heat, and the rising sky above. An infinite variety of notations.

Perhaps we all have a drawing that speaks a private language to us – Samuel Palmer’s secretive moonlit landscapes, Picasso’s Dove of Peace, David Hockney’s dogs, Eric Ravilious’s wondrous drawings of white horses, themselves pictures incised in a landscape. For me it is a tragicomic drawing by Goya, then aged 80, of an old man teetering along on two sticks which he holds as if he trying out newfangled skis. “Aún Aprendo” is written across the top; I am still learning…

So it is with drawing, the freest and the first of all art forms. You can do it with a fingertip in sand or the steamed-up windows of the bus. A scrap of paper plus a stub of pencil and you too may be an artist. A sketchbook, better still, is a world of infinite pardon where you can experiment for ever. Nulla dies sine linea – no day without a line, so says Pliny. Try again and again, absorbed in thought and line, going wherever you will, unbound and always still learning.

Draw Art Fair is at the Saatchi Gallery, London, 17-19 May; Who’s Afraid of Drawing? is at the Estorick Collection, London, until 13 June; Leonardo: A Life in Drawing is at the Queen’s Gallery, London, 24 May-13 Oct; Portrait of an Artist: Käthe Kollwitz will be at the British Museum, London, 12 Sept-12 Jan 2020

Why I draw: two writers and a film-maker on what drawing means to them

Deborah Moggach, writer: ‘Whenever I moved into a new place I’d paint murals on the walls… even bad murals make a room rather magical’

Both my mother and sister were children’s book illustrators, so I grew up drawing and painting. Strangely enough, in the last 20 years or so I stopped, which is an awful shame – it was something to do with writing books and bringing up children and everything getting too complicated. But I’m quite visual – I can always see the scene in a novel when I’m writing: I can see the room and the pattern on the carpet.

I used to write longhand on the right hand side of an A4-sized ring-bound notebook, and on the left hand side I’d draw grotesque faces with huge noses and crinkly hair and wrinkles, or sometimes beautiful, young, naked women. I’d have these creatures crawling all over: they’d be my sort of subconscious page, where my brain would loosen its connections. I find it very useful to have that arrangement, it helps with concentration. They weren’t an illustration of what I was doing, it was more a voyage into a fantasy world.

Whenever I moved into a new place to live I would paint murals on the walls as it saved on buying pictures: even if murals are quite bad, they make a room rather magical. I would paint Douanier Rousseau jungle scenes with herons and zebras all over the walls. I also once muralled a Renault 4 car. The other thing I used to do was copy Dürer etchings line for line: the finished product may have been absolutely hopeless but the process was the thing. Interview by Kathryn Bromwich

 Deborah Moggach’s novel The Carer is published by Tinder Press on 11 July, £16.99. To pre-order for £14.95 go to guardianbookshop.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £15, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99

Jonathan Lethem, novelist: ‘The thing about drawing that’s so different from writing is that it’s a body action’

My dad’s a painter: a lot of my baby pictures are me standing wobbly in my diapers beside him in the studio. I ended up going to a special music and art school in New York City when I was 14 as a prodigy painter – it seemed to be my natural identity. But after going to college I started writing my first novel and that toppled my life as a visual artist instantly. The thing paintings or drawings do least well is depict the passage of time, and I was always frustrated when I was drawing because I couldn’t make stories unfold in time the way I wanted to. When they were most realised, my drawings and paintings were full of narrative elements – characters, implicit situations, words. It was as though my storytelling was fighting its way to life.

Self-portrait.

I have a few pivotal artists who I identify with in my writing very strongly: the Italian surrealist Giorgio de Chirico, abstract expressionist Philip Guston, MC Escher, and also comic book artists like Robert Crumb and Jack Kirby. The thing that strikes me about drawing that’s so different from writing is that it’s a body action: you’re making something physical, with muscular action, with your arms and fingers. When you sit making stories with language, on a keyboard, it’s almost like you’re a kind of corpse, with these twitching fingers. That’s what I miss: the page, the line, which pencil you select, whether you need an eraser, whether you use a chunk of charcoal or perhaps coloured crayons.

In a funny way I’ve come back to it. I have two boys, for whom I began drawing when they were very young: cows and dinosaurs and monsters. Both of them have become kids who draw – when I was their age I was drawing a lot of amateur five-page comic books with my own superheroes in them, and they’re doing exactly that now. KB

 The Feral Detective by Jonathan Lethem is published by Atlantic (£16.99). To order a copy go to guardianbookshop.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £15, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99

Mike Figgis, film-maker: ‘If you draw something you have more of a connection to it’

When I was about nine I started copying political cartoons from newspapers, and I’ve kept notebooks from my teenage years to the present day. Initially I tried to do very rigid drawings and then realised, partly through seeing drawings by Matisse and Hockney, that you can loosen up a little bit. I’m slightly fetishistic about stationery shops and notebooks. I like a rough surface paper, so it doesn’t bleed through. I’ve started using a Chinese water brush, which is incredibly satisfying, and I just bought a Japanese pen that’s got a thick, black ink flow which is fantastic for quick drawing.

Hotel wash basin.

I did an interview with John Berger before he died and he talked about the importance of the connection between the eye, the brain, the hand, the paper – that it’s a spiritual thing, psychologically very important. One of my sketches is a drawing of my mother I did at my father’s funeral – a photograph would never have been the same. When you’re 70 or 100, will you be looking back at your computer, which will no longer work, and you’ll probably have lost all those files anyway? If you draw something you have a much more vivid memory of that moment and more of a connection to it. There was a time when artists were expected to have a basic skill in all sorts of genres – drawing, photography, music – as a way of having the big-picture understanding. Sadly that’s sort of gone as we are urged to specialise in one thing. Actually, at the moment I’m making a documentary about Ronnie Wood, the Rolling Stones guitarist, who is very good at drawing, and I’ve focused on that in the film. KB

On the Shoulders of Giants

Pablo Picasso, from Las Meninas by Velazquez

If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants.

In a letter to Robert Hooke (15 February 1676) from Sir Isaac Newton



May 14th-16th, 2019

£270/3 days, to include a guided tour at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford


For more information about the course, or if you would like to book a place please contact me, Kate Measham – kate@artdrawpaint.com


83-1520-studies-of-the-heads-of-two-apostles-and-of-their-hands-black-chalk-touched-with-white-on-greyish-paper-499-x-364-mm-the-ashmolean-museum-oxford

There is so much to learn from artists of every period and from all parts of the world. The Ashmolean Museum in Oxford has a fine and varied collection of paintings, drawings and   artefacts. Discover Michaelangelo’s studies for the Sistine Chapel, beautiful sketches by Raffael, to a mantle belonging to Pocahontas’ father.

You’ll choose a piece of work to inspire you for the rest of the week.

Research Day at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford

Tuesday, May 14th

11.00 – 4.30

We will have a guided tour of parts of the collection and you will have time to look around the rest of the museum.  Bring sketchbooks with you to take notes about various pieces. The museum has stools for anyone that would like to sit and draw.  Pencil and dry drawing materials are permitted – not paint or ink.

The hardest part of the week is deciding which picture to choose as your starting point. Once you’ve decided you’ll use your time to copy the work.  If there are others by the same artist you will take notes of these too.

“Bad artists copy. Good artists steal” (Picasso)

May 15th, 10.00 – 4.30

The Studio, Bransbury

But copying is a good place to start…

IMG_2539
My charcoal version of a picture by Nicolas Poussin, ‘The Triumph of Pan’

You will be copying your chosen work both as a whole and from various different areas.  By the end of today you will understand the composition, what impressed you about the work, and how to copy work and change the size.

Today you Steal…Tomorrow will be yours…

The Studio, Bransbury

May 16th, 10.00 – 4.30

Today is a transition from copying the chosen work into making it your own.

You may want to work on one piece, a series, or a book…who knows. You may decide to interpret a renaissance painting using collage, or to create a book from small areas of a Uccello masterpiece. Equally, you can spend the day drawing an oversized version of a Pre-Raphaelite nun.

For more information about the course, or if you would like to book a place please contact me, Kate Measham – kate@artdrawpaint.com

I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.

Sir Isaac Newton

Autumn in Andalucia, 2019

Sunday 29th – Sunday 6thOctober, 2019

Full Board and tuition, £1,550 per person, no single supplement, own room and en suite bathroom

Olives and pottery bowl, Casa Rosa

“Andalucia is one of the most beautiful corners of Europe, where the excesses of modern life do not seem to have taken root and travellers are welcomed as honoured guests. Beloved by Orson Welles and Ernest Hemingway, it is the Spain of Carmen, Figaro and Flamenco. Rich with the legacies of the Moors and Romans its charm and serenity will captivate you.” Sunday Times

Casa Rosa in the autumn, made for artists

In late September join us for art and culture in the Axarquía, the mountainous area to the north east of Malaga. The hills and orchards of Andalucía will be ripe with autumn fruit. Casa Rosa, nestling into the surrounding hills, will have pomegranates, garden flowers and persimmon fruit growing in their orchards and gardens. 

If you join us at Casa Rosa you can expect a week with an intensive painting and drawing program, a week of delicious, healthy food made from local produce, and a week in one of the most delightful, comfy, luxurious houses in southern Spain.

For an inclusive fee of £1,550, all meals will be provided, together with drinks and snacks, as well as transport to and from Casa Rosa. No hidden extras.

The road winds to and fro, taking you to and from Casa Rosa

Kate Measham, an experienced artist and teacher, will tutor the group from the exquisite setting of Casa Rosa ( do look at the website to see more about the buildings and the estate) with our host, Rosie Tatham welcoming you to her home.

Rad.ish in the shape of Jessica Tatham will delight you with her delicious and beautiful food.

Kate Measham, tutor

Kate has been teaching and running courses in Hampshire for over 10 years including regular courses on the Greek Island Zakynthos.

Having studied ‘Visual Art through Drawing’ at Winchester School of Art, Kate has since expressed her ideas through a range of media in painting, drawing, printing, wood turning and teaching, always using her imagination and expressing those ideas figuratively, or semi abstractly.

Drawing is the cornerstone of Kate’s work.  She is keen to encourage her students to explore, investigate, be intuitive and imaginative through drawing. 

Despite the energy, strength and colour of Kate’s artistic style, she is not interested in creating a house style, but in encouraging students to find their own voice and helping them to develop the necessary skills to explore it. 

She has exhibited at Josie Eastwood Gallery, The Angelus Gallery, Fisherton Mill, and other spaces.

Locally Sourced Food and Wine

Pomegranates grow in the surrounding orchards . Their pink blush is matched by this rug from Casa Rosa. This bowl is from potteries in  Granada, about an hour away. 

Pomegranates are in season

The week will have a house party feel. You will eat most meals together with Kate, Rosie and the other students. Casa Rosa sits in the middle of its own orchards and autumn will see the orchards groaning with fruit. The house and cottages are  full of delightful surprises collected locally and from years of travel.

This year we have the added temptation of ‘Rad.ish’ doing our catering. Rad.ish is the health and eco conscious catering business of Jessica Tatham, a Ballymalloe trained chef and regular visitor to Casa Rosa. Have a look at her website for a visual feast https://www.rad-ish.co.uk

Having completed chef training, Jessica has gone on to develop her own health and well-being based catering business. Her approach is to serve warm salads and raw food and to combine that with other very comforting solutions to restore the heart and soul after a day of hard labour at the easel.  

Together, mother and daughter, Jessica and Rosie have spent many years travelling the world and discovering different gastronomic delights. They will attempt to accommodate any nutritional requirements, but please give good warning before you arrive.

The Artists’ Day

Breakfast will be a rolling affair from 8.30 – 9.30am.

From 10.00 until 1.00pm there will be a three-hour, taught morning session in the studio followed by a delicious and healthy lunch, a possible siesta and time for you to work on your own projects.

Tuition will resume from 5.00 until 7.00pm for a further 2 hours of painting, or drawing.  After the evening session, you will gather for drinks and supper.

There will be many opportunities for discussion and analysis – if you want to – over wine, olives and food.

What to Expect on the Course

The week will be suitable for everyone, from beginners to the experienced. Projects will be personalised to meet allskill levels.

The course will be based at Casa Rosa using their studio and enjoying the panoramic views of dramatic mountains, olive covered farmland and mature, colourful gardens and grounds.

You will work on both quick sketches and paintings and longer projects, looking at how to capture a feeling of place and atmosphere. Colour, palette, tone, mark making, and composition will form the basis of the week.

Trying to capture Casa Rosa

Risks, experimentation and new approaches will be encouraged.

A sketchbook diary of the week will help you to recall all when you return home.

Orange and blue still life

There is a tennis court, swimming pool, delightful gardens and  table tennis  to divert you (if you need diverting). Rosie can advise you about walks in the area. You can use the studio at anytime.

There will be a rest day in the middle of the week.  Various activities will be on offer such as walking, or visiting the village of Periana.  You may prefer to  sit by the pool, catch up on a painting project, or read a book. Participants are free to join in the lessons as much as they like, or to sit some of them out and enjoy the facilities offered at Casa Rosa and its surrounding area, the Axarquía.

Partners may accompany artists and simply relax and enjoy Casa Rosa.

The group will not exceed 12 artists but non-painting partners are welcome.

The Boring Bits

Sunday 29thSeptember – Sunday 6thOctober, 2019.

£1,550 includes full board, with your own room and ensuite and tuition.

There is no single supplement.

However, if two artists book together, and share a room, they will get a £200 reduction, each. For a non-participating partner sharing a room there is a fee of £1150. A deposit of £300/person secures a place on this course.

Collection and return to Malaga Airport at the beginning and end of your stay are included in the price  if you choose to book our suggested flights. If we need to book a taxi to collect, or deliver you to an alternative flight this will be at your cost.

Transport as necessary to the sites we visit will also be included. For any further errands a taxi service is available.

If you wish to be more independent there are a number of car hire companies at Malaga airport.

What do I need to bring with me?

Nearer departure Kate will send a list of suggested equipment. We can supply some art equipment such as solvents, paints, canvas etc at local prices (to leave more space in your suitcase), and arrange for a courier to bring back your work – please tell us what you want.

There will be cartridge paper, drawing boards, and easels available free of charge.

We advise you to have travel insurance.

Places on the  course are limited so allocation will be made on a first come, first served basis according to deposit paid. Kate Measham at Casa Rosa reserves the right to cancel for whatever reason. In the event of cancellation you will be advised of vacancies on alternative courses. If you do not wish to book on an alternative course, a full refund for the course will be given when Kate Measham at Casa Rosa cancels.

In the event of cancellation by the student, we will endeavour to fill your place and if successful we will refund your deposit, if we are unable to fill your place the deposit will be non-refundable.

If you want to chat about the trip please contact:

Kate Measham on kate@artdrawpaint.com or T:+44 01980 863155

Or Rosie Tatham on rosie@tatham.biz or T:07940 833025

Casa Rosa, Spring 2019

It is cooler in England than Andalucia at this time of year. Last week Casa Rosa (http://www.casarosaestate.eu) was at its most delightful. Irises were in flower, citrus trees laden with both fruit and blossom, and the scent of jasmine in the warm evening air.

Radish (https://www.rad-ish.co.uk), the name Jessica Tatham cooks under, is a modest name for someone who produces wave after wave of delicious, healthy and unusual food. There were endless requests for recipes, and for top-ups of the evening cocktails. Lemon, rosemary and gin was my favourite – I can’t remember if anything else was in it.

Jessica’s food was beautiful. Sadly I was unable to wait long enough to take a photograph before eating it. PLEASE look at her website to get an idea of the food she produced.

Those on the Spring course worked hard producing large volumes of interesting work. Everyone was thrown into a variety of exercises. The work involved painting using complementary colours, a glance at notan, wax resist in mark making, and mixed media as a quick approach to experimental composition. Somehow there was energy left for tennis, walks and occasional specialist Bananagram. On Tuesday we drew Marta, our young flamenco dancer. The Sunday walk was to lunch at a farm in the hills above Periana.

We will be back at Casa Rosa for an Autumn art week from Sunday 29th September to Sunday 6th October, 2019. Have a look at last year’s Autumn art week for inspiration https://artdrawpaint.com/2018/10/20/our-andalucian-autumn/


Spring Drawing/painting Class

Spring Showers are forecast

There are a few places available in the drawing/painting classes.

These classes will be held at: The Studio, Bransbury, Nr Barton Stacey, SO21 3QJ

  • Thursday, 4th April, 2nd May, 23rd May – Drawing
  • Thursday, 11th April, 9th May, 30th May – Painting
  • Drawing will be mornings only, 10.00am – 1.00pm £40/morning
  • Painting will be all day, 10.00am – 4.00pm £80/day
  • 10% discount if you book all classes (6 classes) and pay up front

If you are interested in joining the drawing class please contact me, Kate Measham on 01980 863155


Spring has sprung, 
the grass is ris...

… mowing has started, and other gardening tasks are planned. I love this time of year. I know lots of you like to be busy outside too. However, there are the occasional meteorological knock back. Thursday 4th April is the first drawing day of the spring classes and rain is forecast (https://www.bbc.co.uk/weather/2633858).

So, ignore the garden and hide out with us in Bransbury.


Slight lie…it won’t be scones, but expect good coffee and possibly some biscuits

For more information about the painting and drawing classes try this link:

https://artdrawpaint.com/2019/02/20/drawing-painting-drawing-painting-drawing-painting/

Size Matters: THINK BIG

  • Monday 11th and Tuesday 12th March, 10am – 4.30pm
  • £180/person
  • Materials will be provided.
  • Coffee and Tea readily available, please bring something to eat for lunch.

In this class you will be thinking about how, and why size matters.

It doesn’t matter if you are a beginner, or you have never drawn larger than A4 …because …before you know it you will be stretching through an aerobic workout, reaching areas of paper you hadn’t contemplated before. This is surprisingly physical.

There will be elements of mixed media, and various different drawing techniques. You will contemplate the different compositional approach needed for a big picture. If a drawing is larger than life size what are you saying; does it DEMAND more? Come and experiment and see what you think.


For more information contact kate@artdrawpaint.com

Let’s not be boring doing all drawings the same size. Size matters. Explore, experiment and grow. In this class you will be doing huge drawings (about 4′ x 4′) . See and feel the difference size makes.

Drawing, Painting, Drawing, Painting, Drawing, Painting.


These classes will be held at: The Studio, Bransbury, Nr Barton Stacey, SO21 3QJ

  • Drawing will be mornings only, 10.00am – 1.00pm £40/morning
  • Painting will be all day, 10.00am – 4.00pm £80/day
  • 10% discount if you book all classes (6 classes) and pay up front
Charcoal…almost painting, almost drawing

Regular drawing and painting is the best way to learn and to improve.

Here are six classes. On alternate weeks there are drawing and painting classes…always on a Thursday.

These are all stand alone classes so if you can’t do one or two don’t worry.

As far as possible, the painting class will paint a Still Life that was drawn in the previous drawing class. So if you are doing both classes this will help to familiarise you with the still life.

You can still come to the painting class if you weren’t at the drawing class, and you don’t have to come to painting classes if you only want to draw. You decide what YOU want to do.

  • Thursday, 4th April – Drawing
  • Thursday, 11th April – Painting
  • Thursday, 2nd May – Drawing
  • Thursday, 9th May – Painting
  • Thursday, 23rd May – Drawing
  • Thursday, 30th May – Painting

Life Drawing, Paper Mâché Sculpture and Paint

N

April 8th, 9th and 10th

10.00am  – 4.00pm

£285/3 days

At the Studio, Riverside Cottage, Bransbury

On this three day course you will start with a life model, drawing for reference and information. Using  very rapid sculptural techniques you will construct 3D models from your drawings using paper mâché, tape, wood, and probably wire, and anything else that seems appropriate. When you start to ‘draw’ the model in 3D different information is needed – this adds to the interesting step from straight forward life drawing to sculpture.

The sculpture will become the model for your drawing and painting over the rest of the course.

This method opens your imagination to adapting the model. It sounds a bit weird and creepy – and why not? The models can take you way beyond masks, or even catrinas as seen below. The resulting drawings and paintings have an observed reality. It should be an exciting few  days.

Coffee, tea, biscuits and a light lunch will be provided each day.

Some materials will be provided but you will be encouraged to use/recycle old drawings and paintings as well as other dry waste materials (egg cartons, loo roll holder, boxes, posters…who knows)

Try this link to see how other artists have used this medium  Papier mâché artists

March, April, May

New Dates, New Classes…Lots to See

There are new classes, new courses and a few date changes over the next few months. Below are dates and brief descriptions. Click on the titles for fuller explanations about what is on offer.

The first weeks in March form the basis of all drawing and painting, ‘What is it, how big is it and where am I going to put it?’

Life Drawing, Papier Mache Sculpture, and Painting

In the second week in April is the return of this very exciting course. Day one we have a life model who you draw with the intention of building a sculpture. Day two you build a sculpture from your drawings using papier mache and anything you can find that works. Day three you will paint from your sculptures.


On the Shoulders of Giants

Following in the tradition of learning from the great masters we are going to spend the day at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. It has a splendid and varied collection of works. You will see everything (!) in the museum and choose something that you are going to work with.

There will be drawing at the museum followed by two days at the Studio Bransbury copying the picture you chose and taking the ideas forward to create a piece that is all your own.


DRAW, DRAW, DRAW, PAINT, PAINT, PAINT

There will be a return to the regular Drawing and Painting sessions but they will be at the Studio at Bransbury, NOT at Ramshill. These will be suitable for all abilities and will be based on a changing Still Life.

Drawing will be mornings only, 10.00am – 1.00pm £40/morning

Painting will be all day, 10.00am – 4.00pm £80/day

  • Thursday, 4th April – Drawing
  • Thursday, 11th April – Painting
  • Thursday, 2nd May – Drawing
  • Thursday, 9th May – Painting
  • Thursday, 23rd May – Drawing
  • Thursday, 30th May – Painting

For more information, prices and times please click on the titles

If you would like to join a class contact me, kate@artdrawpaint.com

First Aid Course

First Aid Course 

With Southwest Health and Safety

1stMarch, 8.30am – 5.00pm

£104/head (normal price £114, incl VAT or £95 without)

At Riverside Cottage Studio,Bransbury, nr Andover, SO21 3QJ


Southwest Health and Safety (SWHS) are a professional organisation offering first aid courses and CPR training with a certificate on completion. This course will help you with essential first aid skills that may be called upon in the home, at work,  with employees – or wherever they may be needed. 

Do you know what to do if someone is cut badly, or has an eye injury, chokes or burns themselves? If a person collapses how do you make them safe and comfortable? SWHS are offering a first aid course that will enable participants to give immediate correct attention if someone is injured, or taken ill.

SWHS follow HSE guidance and deliver a high standard of first aid training.

Why should I take this First Aid accredited course?  

SWHS courses lead to fully approved qualifications. They are designed to meet all of an employers regulatory and statutory duties by complying with the Health and Safety Executive (HSE) guidelines.

Their trainers have a wealth of experience within the first aid sector, so feel free to ask questions during the course and apply to them at a later date with further questions; we are confident they will be able to help you.
A

Would you know what to do?

First aid education and qualifications give you the confidence to help when it is needed. 

All SWHS courses are fun & engaging, with lots of practice. They know that first aid is a serious matter but if enjoy the day you will learn, remember and be prepared to use your crucial new skills. 

If you are interested in joining this course please contact me as soon as possible either by phone (01980 863155) or email: kate@pennylanefarm.com  

For more information about South West Health and Safety please visit their website:

https://www.southwesthealthandsafety.com

Art courses, in Hampshire and beyond

%d bloggers like this: