I was at our civilisation museum the other day and my joints were bothering me. It was hard to draw and, even more, it was hard to concentrate because of the pain. But I sat, stared at, and drew an Inuit stone carving of an Inuit stalking a seal. I loved how a complete scene was captured in the rock.
Denise Bujold is doing an amazing job of organizing events for us to attend. While most art groups are held together by the love of a particular medium or way of working, this one is held together with smiles. It seems everyone is working in a different medium, some carry easels, others tripod stools. But everyone shows up with smiles on their faces and that’s all we need.
This week we assembled at Domain Cataraqui, which at one time was a huge estate. I guess it’s still a huge estate but now it serves several purposes, most central of which is a cooking school. For a sketcher, there is a large cluster of unique architecture and gardens that are all surrounded by forest. Oh…and it’s quiet, one of my favorite things.
Yvan and I arrived a bit early and we chose an area to start sketching. I decided to do a larger sketch of a view of the building complex and because I’m slower than molasses as a sketcher, it took me until lunch to complete it.
Everyone else had set up and were painting on the other end of the estate so I headed up there to take part in the smiles, some chit-chat, and maybe some lunch. It was a gorgeous day and sitting in front of a multi-million dollar mansion just felt right.
When I can, I’ve been joining the Artistes dans les Parcs, a painting group. Denise Bujold has created this series of friendly gatherings in Quebec City parks where people show up and create art. Yvan and I are the odd fellows of the group because most set up easels and paint in oils, acrylics, and watercolors while we scribble away in our sketchbooks. It’s a fun group, though, and they accept our ‘odd’ ways.
We met at the Parc des Moulins on Saturday and spent the morning drawing/painting. This place used to be the Quebec City zoo until a political battle over funding caused the whole thing to go belly up. Now, part of it is a park and it gets its name because of a windmill (moulin) that lives in the park. On this day, we all clustered around a picnic bench, and I chose this scene to draw.
August 26th was our 30th wedding anniversary. Thinking about that, Chantal deserves a medal for living with me that long. We decided to celebrate by getting off planet Quebec City and spending a couple days in Rimouski, a smallish town on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, just as it begins to open up into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Originally I planned on it being just the two of us but Chantal thought it would be fun to bring Jodie along. Turned out that was a great idea because my bum knee limited my ability to do some things and Jodie gave Chantal some company while she them.
We stayed at a rustic hotel that sits right on the coast, a rocky intertidal area right in front of the place. Excepting that there was no coffee available on site and a 20-30 minute shopping trip to get some, it was an ideal place.
Our first day there wasn’t great because it was very windy and cold. Yep…cold. No heat wave that day. We visited a museum/lighthouse/submarine place and Jodie and Chantal wanted to tour the submarine. We weren’t sure that my knee could manage the bulkhead doors and the requisite steps downward so I went and sat in the car. This allowed me to do this quick sketch of the rocks, etc. in front of me.
Rimouski is a fishing town and on every corner is a poissonerie (fresh fish store) and associated restaurant. We went for Korean food and it was spectacular. If you’re ever in Rimouski, foresake the crab dinner and head to Parfum of Korea, an oddly bilingual named restaurant. We filled up on Bokkeum, grabbed coffee to go and headed back to the hotel, where we spent the evening staring at the river/ocean (you can’t see across at this point and the water is salty).
The next day we drove to Matane, a fishing/university town a couple hours north of Rimouski. We did this mostly just to enjoy the trip and the wonderful coastline scenery along the way but also with a purpose. I wanted to draw a fishing boat and Mr. Google told me they had lots of them. When we got there I was disappointed. Matane itself is nice enough. We discovered a great beach covered with small round rocks and lots of sand. We also discovered a fish ladder, all ready for the salmon run up the river… next week. Oh well, it was cool to see even without the fish.
But we couldn’t find fishing boats anywhere. So we went to the information center which exists in the form of an old lighthouse. Chantal went to discuss the whereabouts of the fishing boats with the information folks. I set up and started drawing the lighthouse.
We learned that the fishing boats are actually a bit south of Matane in their own artificial harbor area so we headed there. It turned out that most of them were off somewhere, probably making a nuisance of themselves in the world of crabs, shrimps, and fish of several species. But there were a few in port and a sketcher only needs one. Here she be. I was frustrated with the hot-press paper I was using and so this one never saw a brush.
We had a great time on that trip but my first use of hot-pressed paper was a disaster. What’s up with it anyway? I was using Fabriano Artistico HP. Unlike the CP I normally use I couldn’t get this stuff to stay wet? I was constantly fighting with lines in my washes. And EVERYTHING just seemed ‘flat.’ It seemed to suck the life out of the paint. What am I doing wrong? Can anyone advise?
You know those puzzles we had when we were kids? They were cut from wood and had no more than half a dozen pieces, which matched with our little hands and puzzle-making abilities when were three. Well, it seems, I drew one.
Not really. In reality I was standing at the end of St. Denis street in Quebec City, looking up the hill at the depicted scene. What was different was that I decided to paint it as a bunch of interlocking shapes. As a basis for this I drew, in pencil, a very light box around the building and then drew boxes where the windows rested.
Then I grabbed a paint brush, a scary instrument in my hands. You see, I’m trying to figure out a few things with watercolors. I’m trying to figure out how to mix paints thicker than the pastel-like colors we beginners often use. Mostly this has resulted in over-kill in my sketches but I’m making progress. The other thing I’m investigating is whether I can sketch directly with a brush. This is definitely putting the cart before the horse but it’s become a nothing ventured, nothing gained sort of thing for me.
Anyhow, I became overwhelmed with painting thoughts as I tried to ‘draw’ this with a brush. I drew each shape, trying to “build the wash” (Holmes-style), avoid any outline effect, and also trying to keep the shape correct. I was so consumed with those tasks that the thought of actually trying to draw the scene got lost in the shuffle. After I’d created my kid’s puzzle, I used a pen to draw window frames and such but nothing was going to help this sketch much. Interesting exercise. It’s said that we learn from our mistakes. I must have learned a lot with this one.
