Making Friends in Michaelis Iziko Museum

There's nothing better than spending an afternoon in a museum. At least not for me. I absolutely loved the afternoon I spent wandering through the Iziko Museumsof Cape Town. The big National Gallery is situated in the middle of the peaceful Companies Gardens, a corridor of green that runs through the city. It was lovely and informative....

...but... my favourite was the smaller Michaelis Collection in a restored Old Town House off Greenmarket Square. It holds Iziko's collection of Netherlandish art. There are paintings by Frans Hals, Jan Steen, Anthony van Dyck and Jacob Ruisdal. They were all lovely, but my favourite painting (above) was by someone rather unknown. So unknown in fact, that I forgot to write down his details. The minute I saw it I knew I had found a friend.

Did I know her in a previous age? Were my ancestors acquaintances of hers? We're both of Dutch extraction after all. She looked like she might have had a pithy sense of humour and a nose for fun.

Views of Vredehoek

I am slowly, but surely returning to my sketchbook after a month of neglecting it for household D.I.Y. It was a necessary distraction for the leaking pipes, leaking roofs, crumbling courtyards needed immediate attention, but I'm very glad to be over the worst now, and able to concentrate on more artistic pursuits.

We live in the Vredehoek district of Cape Town. Roughly translated, Vredehoek means "peaceful corner" in Afrikaans. It is really quite peaceful, aside from the gale force winds that blow practically every day. The trees are permanently bowed like hunchbacks.

The view out our front gate is amazing: Table Mountain soars above, and there is some of the most beguiling architecture with lacy-white ironwork railings.

In Cape Town

I've arrived on the bottom-most tip of Africa!

It's been a busy week of moving, cleaning and re-orienting. The house is beginning to feel livable, and I'm almost finished setting up my studio (photos soon, promise...)

There's still much to be done, and we don't have internet set up yet, so my blogging may be more sporadic in the near future.

In the mean time, I wanted to share a quick, unfinished sketch of the profile of Table Mountain. It's the view from M's parent's house, where we were staying before moving in to our own place. I have no scanner, so forgive the fuzzy photograph.

And below, is the view of Table Mountain and Devil's Peak from our back patio. Stunning.

Glamorous Travel

Travel isn't glamorous.

Destinations can be glamorous... New York, London, Paris, Los Angeles...

Travel is mostly horrendous. The stress of packing bags, and then the interminable sitting in an airplane waiting for the minutes to pass before landing (all 12 hours of them).

I dream of travelling in style. I'd wear my skinny jeans and vertiginous pink heals, and carry beautiful luggage (instead of the ratty bags I currently own). And, there would be absolutely no weight restrictions or baggage allowances. Everything I wanted would fit into my bags, just like Mary Poppins.

Of course, if I were Mary Poppins I'd just open my umbrella, catch the next breeze, and float to my destination. Now that is glamour in a nutshell (after all, glamour is old English for 'magic' or 'enchantment').

The Egyptian Book of the Dead

Those ancient Egyptians: they knew how to wield a pen-nib with the utmost accuracy and simplicity. I am amazed how the scribes could express so much emotion with one stroke. You would think they were modern graphic designers schooled in the art of vector linework. But, no... they lived and worked 3000 years ago on papyrus and linen (not even paper was available!). Truly, truly extraordinary.

If you're lucky enough to be in London this winter, don't miss the

Egyptian Book of the Dead

at the British Museum.

Sketching in Berlin

It is already over a week since I returned from Berlin, but at last, I have sorted my photos. Despite my best efforts at artistic photography, none of the photos were really that inspiring. I had more fun sketching in my Skizzenbuch than photographing. Here you can see me enjoying a glass of wine near Sevigny Platz and drawing the little boutique-lined street.

I try to draw everywhere I go, though sometimes I am more conscientious than others.

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Italian Drawings - British Museum

Yesterday morning I went to the British Museum to see their current exhibition of Italian Renaissance Drawings. Walking around the darkened rotunda of the 'reading room' looking at the delicate coal and sepia sketches by the Italian masters (Fra Angelico, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael) filled me with renewed inspiration and vigor for my field.

The one quote that stuck in my head and won't leave is by Leonardo da Vinci. He said:

"The sketching out of the narrative should be rapid and the arrangement of the limbs not too defined."

I think that I sometimes focus too much on getting it 'right' the first time. A little rapid scribbling might do me good.

In the above sketch you see St. Peter in his funny hat, and two gallery attendees examining him on the wall, one is listening to one of those media player thingies.

If you're in London and you love drawing, you should definitely make an effort to go the the British Museum.

View from my studio window

This is the view from my studio window. I live on a road of Victorian houses that have been converted into flats. My studio is on the top floor, facing the road, and I have a beautiful view of rooftops, chimneys and TV aerials.

What do you look at while you are in your studio? Is your view inspiring or boring? If you want to share, post your pictures online and share a link to them in the comments section. I love to take virtual tours of the world, one artist's studio at a time.

 

Van Gogh at the Royal Academy

I am seeking

I am strong

I am in it with all my heart

--Vincent van Gogh

One can really feel that passionate soul at the current van Gogh exhibition at the Royal Academy in London. It is called "The Real Van Gogh: The artist and his letters" and traces his development as an artist through displays of his letters to his brother Theo, sketches, and finished paintings.

It struck me that the letters, with their sketches in the margins, were rather like modern day blog posts. Van Gogh was trying to share his studio work with his brother, but couldn't take photographs (or send emails) so he posted his musings and sketches in the mail.

Every artist feels very alone in the studio (I know I sometimes do). Sharing things online and receiving comments and encouraging words helps to fill the void.

If you have a chance, take a trip to the Royal Academy. You will leave absolutely inspired. If you don't live anywhere near London, go to your local library and pick up a book about Van Gogh. The best is to get a compilation of his letters (this is often available via inter library loan). Or, better yet, go to this WEBSITE which has all 902 letters online! For each letter that includes a sketch you can click on a little link called "sketch" and it will show you a zoomable image of the letter. They are so fascinating, and well worth browsing for a little inspiration.

Watercolor Wedding Portrait in York Minster

Last week Mom and I went to York to see the pre-Christmas decorations, drink mulled wine and tour York Minster, which is the largest Gothic cathedral in northern Europe. It also has the greatest concentration of preserved medieval stained glass in any cathedral in Britain. While Mom and I were gawking at the beauty surrounding us, we noticed a bride walk into the transept on the arm of her father. An organ voluntary played, and they processed down the aisle. A wedding was about to start in York Minster.

Seeing the bride, overwhelmed with happiness and emotion, in such a grand setting inspired me to paint a picture of the moment. There is no way I could ever capture the intricate detail of the minster architecture in a small watercolor (it is 5 inches by 7 inches), so I left that out and focused on creating the feeling of space by leaving the page blank. Here you see the bride and her father processing behind a minster official.

 

Here are a few photos from our weekend in York....

The Shambles is one of Britain's best preserved medieval streets

York Castle

Drawing like Picasso

On Friday I went to the Picasso exhibition at the National Gallery in London. The premise of the exhibition was looking at how Picasso used his knowledge of art history and old master paintings as subject matter for his cubist style. Being an art historian myself, I enjoyed following the clues and finding stylistic and thematic links between the Picassos and the 'old masters.'

And, being an art student, I also enjoyed standing around in the crowds of people admiring the paintings (making a nuisance of myself, I'm sure) in the vain attempt to understand cubist style. I can see the logic behind Picasso's finished drawings, but it entirely escapes me how he arrived at that point. What is the internal logic of cubist drawing? It must be: draw every angle and every plane of the object at once, as if they were all facing forwards.

The top two sketches are from Picasso paintings. Then, I became emboldened, and I tried to sketch a woman in the gallery in Picasso style. I'm not sure I succeeded. I think she still looks too 'normal'.

What do you think? Do you have any tricks to draw "cubically"?

A week of luxury in Ibiza

I spent a week in a private villa on the mediterranean island of Ibiza. It was a bit of a guilty pleasure, as I don't have much time left before my final show. However, family friends offered us the use of their serviced mansion on a private cove, and we couldn't refuse.

To appease the conscience, I brought my sketchbooks and did a little scribbling in between trips to the beach and whisky-and-sodas on the terrace.

Canary Wharf

M's parents have come for a visit from South Africa, and we took them to see Canary Wharf this morning. It was fun to show them the hustle of bustle of pin-striped men rushing around the futuristic development laced with bridges and canals.

I did this little ink and pencil crayon sketch in my Fabriano Artist's Journal. It measures 2 inches across at the most.

I have a disproportionate pride for the fact that the names of the squares in Canary Wharf are "Canada Square" and "Cabot Square". I somehow associate this with a Canadian connection, either in urban design or investment. Can anyone enlighten me as to why there seems to be such a linguistic connection with my home country?

A morning in House Cafe

This morning I travelled to Camberwell College earlier than usual with the intention of spending some time in the library before our lecture. As Murphy's Law would dictate, the library was closed for the morning, so I spent my time in House Cafe doodling and chatting with my classmates.

In the cafe, we students brewed over our recent mid-year evaluations. Most of us were highly confused, both by the feedback we received and the form on which it was written. What did all those ticky-boxes mean? Why did the grades indicated in aforementioned ticky-boxes not correspond to the final percentage received?

After much thought and conversation, we decided that we had to make artwork that pleased us personally. I have received such conflicting advice about my artistic style, my painting, my use of colours (etc) from the various tutors that my head is starting to spin.

The most important thing is to produce artwork that fills your heart with joy: something you are really proud of. If you think it has value, then other people will naturally value it because you have distilled a portion of your spirit.

Incidentally, most of us spend as much time drawing in House as talking.