Tangled Web: studio oil painting

Here's number two in my "year of the tree" series.

This group of white gums sits on a farm a few kilometres from home.

While I was initially taken in by the view to the Stirling Range, I was also interested in the patterns created by the twisting trunks and tangled branches and the umbrella-shaped leaf canopies that are typical of many large eucalypts.

As with my last painting, I wanted to capture the strong feeling of sunlight, not only as it played directly across the trunk, branches and leaves of the central tree, but also as it reflected onto the shaded side of the trunk and the undersides of the branches. In fact the shaded branches in the upper canopy have a younger, reddish bark that positively glows with the warmth and strength of that reflected light.

Although they run cattle on this property, I wanted something understated to help balance the image so I added three sheep to the left side. The fence post is also the result of some artistic licence.
 

Tangled Web

60x40cm oil on board.  

© Andy Dolphin

As before, that shadow colour on the main trunk looked like mud until the bright highlight was placed alongside it. It's quite unnerving to have it sitting there looking "wrong" but I'm sure I'll learn to trust it after painting a few more of these trees.

The trick with something like that is to trust the tone. You need to get that right or it will never work.

Start with what you consider to be the true "local" colour of the bark – a pale ochre in this case – then darken and cool it to the correct tone. Then you will need to add some reflected light into the mix for some parts of the tree. That reflected-light colour is dictated by the area surrounding the tree.

It can seem like a bit of a battle mixing a colour that is both warm and cool, but this approach should get you in the ballpark. Add variety to the bark with some slightly warmer and slightly cooler colours, and it will start to take form.

Eastern Stirlings: studio oil painting

Last year my son Michael and I climbed a number of local mountains. One of those climbs was the walk to the top of Bluff Knoll, the highest point in the southern half of Western Australia.

To the east of Bluff Knoll lies a mountainous wilderness known colloquially as "the ridge walk". Requiring serious bush-walking, navigation and climbing skills it is, by all accounts, a magnificently hellish place to experience.

It's on our list.

It's not near the top of the list, however.

For now, I have to console myself with photos of the region, taken from the ground or from Bluff Knoll.

This painting, showing the view to Ellen Peak at the eastern end of the ridge, is based on mid-afternoon photos I took from the top of Bluff Knoll last September.

  Eastern Stirlings

34x20cm oil on board.  

© Andy Dolphin

I hope to take another look at this same scene once the cooler weather settles in later this year. Early morning or late evening should be spectacular.

Peaches and cream with John Wilson

John Wilson is an artist with a worldwide reputation. Based in the Blue Mountains, a couple of hours drive from Sydney, John has built a career on capturing the region in oil paint and last month I was lucky enough to find a spot in one of his 10-day masterclass workshops.

It was an amazing experience as John gave students his recipe for "peaches and cream" and "apricot" and explained his use of foundational warm and cool greys. No questions went unanswered as John shared the knowledge borne from of his years of professional experience.

Of the 10 days, three involved painting en plein air in some of the most beautiful places on earth. We painted from the Megalong Valley to the Capertee Valley and it was easy to see why so many artists are drawn to the region.

I ventured out on my own, before and after class every day and on the weekend in the middle of the course, snapping hundreds of photos. I also managed to do a few of my own paintings on the edge of the Katoomba cliffs.

One of my more-successful attempts was painted one morning from a cliff face not far from the Sky Rider motel where I stayed.

 Near Devils Hole (plein air)

25x20cm oil on canvas board.  

© Andy Dolphin

One thing you quickly learn here is to pay attention at the start and to cement the image in your mind because the light can change dramatically even in the short time it takes to do a small painting like this one.

And here is the "proof I really was there" photo.

As you can see in this photo, the dramatic shadow cast by the distant mountains in my painting was almost completely gone by the time I put down my brushes, less than one hour after I began.

One evening I went to a small lookout just before sunset and decided to challenge myself to see just how fast I could paint something.

I set about capturing the Three Sisters, arguably Katoomba's single-biggest natural attraction, as the light shifted rapidly with massive thunderhead clouds building all around and changing from bright fluffy white to rich, deep shades of orange and purple.

The final painting took about 30 minutes, after which there was no sunlight on the cliffs and it was too dark to tell what colours I was mixing.

Three Sisters (plein air)

20x25cm oil on canvas board.  

© Andy Dolphin

As a painting, it leaves a little to be desired but as an exercise, I absolutely love it.

Thanks John and Cecelia, and everyone who attended the workshop, for an inspirational two weeks with some great people. I hope to do it again soon.

Drought broken

For the last six months, or more, tracks and paddocks in this region have been turning into streams and lakes. Whilst apparently not record-breaking, it's the most persistent rain we've seen since moving to the area 13 years ago.

But, more importantly, I managed to get out into the studio on Sunday and knock out a painting: my first oil painting in over two years. Yes, the drought has broken.

 

Devil's View

25x35cm oil on canvas board.  

© Andy Dolphin

Inspired by recent traverses into the nearby mountain ranges with my son, this scene begged to be painted the first time I saw it.

The large granite peak sits near the top of the walk to the Devil's Slide in the Porongurup Range. The northern view shows the Stirling Range on the horizon.

To give some indication of the size of the central boulder, the large dark green mass below it is a forest of karri, one of the world's tallest tree species.

In short, it's a big lump of rock.

This is a small 10" x 14" painting on commercial canvas board, a surface I haven't painted on for years. I'm going to let it sit around for a while then possibly do a larger version of the same painting.

3D images from Google Maps

My son and I went up Bluff Knoll last weekend. It was my first trip to the top in about 30 years.

Today, I was  messing around with satellite images of the region on Google Maps and got to thinking that it might be possible to make static 3D images from it.

It is.

So here you go... 3D Bluff Knoll, in the Stirling Range National Park.

Click the image to view larger.

I've assembled these images to use the cross-eyed method of viewing as I find this works better for larger images. If I could find my old anaglyph (red-blue) glasses, I'd make an anaglyph version too.

To enjoy the 3D effect, stare at both images then slowly go cross-eyed. Relax your eyes and, whilst keeping them crossed, adjust your focus.

I found it easiest to focus by concentrating on the small white area on the path just below and slightly to the right of centre of each image. Try to get the double image to come together so you only see one copy of this spot then allow your eyes to focus. The 3D effect occurs as soon as you focus.

Some people find this easy to do and others, apparently, can never get it to work. Good luck.

If it works for you, then here's a bonus one of Perth CBD.

I've added a small yellow "X" at the bottom of the images to assist with the initial focus.

Bluff Knoll Blizzard

Recently I've been learning a little about how to predict snow falls, especially in southern WA.

Snow is almost unheard of in this state but at 1095m above sea level, Bluff Knoll does enjoy a some light falls a few times a year.

I had been watching the weather charts all week and it was looking good for today and tomorrow. When I checked today's forecast this morning, it had possible snow drifts predicted for the Stirling Range this afternoon and evening.

My wife and I headed out to Bluff Knoll around 3pm. The sun was shining, the wind was light and there were clouds drifting across the top of Bluff Knoll. There was a definite chill in the air, but it was beautiful and serene.

I set my DSLR camera up on a tripod right next to my car so I could sit in relative warmth. I attached a timer cable and when I was done taking a few test shots, I looked up and there no more sunlight anywhere.

I set the timer to take one picture every five seconds and left it to shoot until the memory card was full.

Janet had "gone for a walk" and sent me a text message warning of some approaching dark clouds. The storm was soon with me and it hit with a vengeance. I was busy trying to tie the tripod down so it wouldn't blow over, as sleet whipped past me, piling up on the back window of the car, and soaking through my jacket and jeans.

Janet was "somewhere" on the walk trail, sheltering beside trees and basically getting soaked. She had a great time watching flurries of snow.

While I could only describe the weather I witnessed in the car park as "sleet" rather than "snow", there were people on top of the mountain and they most definitely enjoyed the real thing, even if it did arrive horizontally and and great speed. We met the brave souls before we packed up and they showed us photos of the snow on the ground. There was enough to make some snow balls.

The worst of the blizzard lasted around 15 minutes and quickly cleared. Soon after, the setting sun cast a warm glow over everything before ducking behind a cloud. Day soon turned to night, the camera's memory card was full and we packed up, dried ourselves off, chucked the heater on in the car and headed home.

Over 1 hour, 40 minutes the camera took just over 1500 photos. I used the images to create a one minute time-lapse video.

Walking with Drones

Stirling Range, Western Australia.

Photo by Andy Dolphin.

I haven't painted for a while but have been kept busy with other things.

One of those things involves my son who purchased a drone last December. Since then he's been hunting for places to fly it and capture some of our amazing scenery in video and photos.

If you want to see our Great Southern region like you've never seen it before, you really should check out his Drone Video Youtube channel.

The reason I've been busy is because I've accompanied him on several of his trips from Denmark to Albany. For the last three weekends we've also completed a few of the walks in the Porongurup and Stirling ranges.

The first was Devils Slide, which at 650m above sea level is the highest peak in the Porongurup Range.

We took the track which starts near Waddy's Hut on the south side of the range. This is the shorter of two approaches, but it's also steeper. The first section of the walk follows the Wansborough Pass which is a track wide enough to drive a vehicle through. Although it is closed to public traffic, I assume it is still used for maintenance access by the ranger and for fire control when needed.

This track tested our resolve from the very start and reminded me how long it's been since I put my legs under any real pressure. I'm not the fittest person I know.

The end result, however, was worth the effort.

Devils Slide, Porongurup Range.

Photo by Andy Dolphin.

The photo above shows the view from near the top of the Devils Slide walk. It is much more impressive than I'd previously thought. I'll be going back as often as time allows, as it only 15-20 minutes from home and I'd like to see it at different times of the day, in all seasons.

Yesterday we visited the Stirling Range and tackled the Talyuberlup walk trail. This is a fairly steep walk and had a few dodgy spots where the track has eroded over the years leaving large steps that pose a small challenge when you have short legs. Plus, there had been rain earlier in the dayso there was a bit of slippery mud to add a little interest. But we made it to the top, some 783m above sea level, and took in one the most spectacular views I have ever seen.

It's funny, no matter how much grumbling my legs, back, lungs and heart do on the way up, it all goes away the moment the interesting bit is reached. Suddenly the next climb, even when it's a near-vertical scramble up a rock-filled crevice, looks trivial compared to the far-less-interesting and energy-sucking track that leads up the side of the mountain.

The Talyuberlup walk starts to get interesting about two-thirds of the way up, as the bush gives way to craggy rock formations.  The last section of the walk takes you around the cliffs that form the peak until finally turning up through a tunnel which requires arms and legs to conquer. The view from the north-facing exit to the tunnel can be seen below. This photo was shot with my DSLR, not with my son's drone.

Magog from Talyuberlup, Stirling Range.

Photo by Andy Dolphin.

Talyuberlup is sublime. I'm advised there are better views in the range, but I think this must be one the best views accessible to the average person not particularly skilled in bush walking and climbing.

I'm not sure where we're going next, but I think that view will take some beating.

When I'm fit enough to do it, I hope to take some paint and brushes up with me, and hopefully capture some of that magic in oils.