Posted on 30 Comments

Back in the studio!

Finally, I managed to scale the steep steps to my attic studio! One step at a time. Holding on the handrails.

Ah, what pleasure it was to be back in the attic. It has a view out the back of the house. It is a great pleasure to look at the wooded parks and hills of West Swansea instead of the unrelenting concrete streets and terrace houses out the front of the house. I have a number of commissions to fulfill but I wanted to “warm up” with some small paintings first as I have been working with watercolours for the past two months. Here’s a selection:-

My first reaction to oil paint was how slow it all is in comparison with watercolours. With watercolours, most of the effort goes into planning and preparation and then the execution of the painting itself is quick. Putting oil paint on the canvas was more laborious that watercolours. I also had to rummage around for looking for the right sort of paintbrushes, a few times. I could not quite lay my hands on what I needed. But,  ah! The paint did what I thought it was going to do. What joy! If I changed my mind about a composition or decided that something did not work I could wipe it off the canvas. It did not reproach me for making a mistake by showing it to the world for ever! Nice!

Anyway, I sat down and started a series of new Donegal paintings. Here they are.

Painting of Donegal Cottage
Wee House on Gola, Donegal (SOLD)
Painting of Storm Clouds Over Inshbofin, Ireland
Storm Over Inshbofin, Ireland (SOLD)

Painting of The Two Tin-Roofed Sheds, Ireland

The Two Tin-Roofed Sheds, Arranmore, Ireland

Painting of house on Gola, Donegal, Ireland
Blue Door, Gola (SOLD)

Landscape Arranmore Ireland

The Old Stone Shed Arranmore Ireland

These paintings are from the past few weeks. I have also worked on two commissions. It has been slow work at times as I often need a lunchtime nap to keep my energy levels up. I do my rehab exercises several times a day which can be very tiring. On a positive note, I finally got to speak to a physiotherapist, Josh, who has been very helpful. He has posted exercises to me and giving me guidance on how much to do.  I can walk upstairs reasonably well, but downstairs one step at a time. When I get tired my ankle gets sore and I limp. I try and avoid that if I can.

What did I learn from watercolours? That I can and should edit and play around with compositions more. I simplified my images as much as I could. I changed the skies or left out an inconvenient house. I found this freeing and I brought an element of this to my oil paintings. For some reason, I have felt to need to be truthful to the real-life locations I painted. I realise now that I don’t have to. I can happily leave out a telegraph pole or a lamp post if it confuses the composition.

What do I miss about watercolours? The tidiness. Clean clothes and hands. The lack of chaos. The speed. The brushes that don’t wear out by the time you have finished a large painting. The lightness. They convey the lightness of birds better than oil colours. Also the convenience, I could pack away all my paper, paints, and brushes in one big bag. I am looking forward to using them outside when I can walk much longer distances!

Emma Cownie Artist
Painting in the studio with my leg up!

 

Posted on 3 Comments

Brandy Cove, Gower

Oil painting of Brandy Cove, Gower

Brandy Cove
Brandy Cove 30 x 24 cm

One of the many, many beautiful beaches that dot the glorious coastline of Gower peninsula. Brandy Cove, is located half a mile west of Caswell Bay, and can be reached by the undulating coastal in about 20 minutes.

It is probably Gower’s most infamous beach and is steeped in history and legend. The small cove gets its name from the days when smuggling was rife on the Gower Peninsula and the sands were used to land illicit cargo of tobacco and alcohol. At high tide, only the rocks of the bay are visible. At low tide a small apron of pebbles and sand are revealed by the retreating sea.

It was a very hot summer day when I visited and the cool sea water was an absolute delight to paddle in. At one point that afternoon, there was a large tan dog lying in the shadow of the rock, cooling off. I was drawn to the beautiful dark sand colour after the tide has retreated and the various colours of the monumental Rock in the sand. I really liked the sharp green of the seaweed temporarily stranded at low tide on the rocks in the foreground.  When the tide retreats even further you can walk out past the headland and see Caswell Bay to the East.

 

Posted on 1 Comment

Bernard Street, Brynmill

“Urban minimal” paintings of Swansea 

 

Bernard Street
Bernard Street

 

Swansea is full of hills. It’s why there are so many great views in this town. It helps keep you fit. We live on top of a hill that -gave its name to the area – Brynmill (Lit. “Mill Hill” in Welsh).

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bernard Street is a long tree-lined avenue that “hangs” between two hills. It leads from the uplands of busy Gower Road down a long slope past a small parade of shops and then uphill again to St Albans Road, which runs parallel to the north side of the ridge of Brynmill.  This land was once part of the grounds of a country mansion called “Pantygwdyr”  (Lit. “Stream of Glass” in Welsh) that longer exists, that was once owned by a John Richardson, a ship owner.

Bernard was, apparently, a family name that was given to this street that was built around the turn of the 19th century. The north end of Bernard Street is lined with elegant large Edwardian red brick houses.  It is one of the red-brick houses I have painted. I love the fiery colour of the hard brick. Not at all like modern bricks. These are smooth edged and a reddish orange.

I also love the trees on this road. They are periodically pruned so that the branches are reduced to stumps but they always burst forth with verdant abundance in the spring. It hard to be minimal with such lush greenery! It is usually rare to find parking spaces at this end of the street. The summer and the absent students have left gaps. The shadow of the house opposite, encroaches into the sunny scene, possibly a hint of something ominous.

More on Brynmill

© Emma Cownie 2017