Quiet evening, Majorca. Watercolour 12” x 20”

Frank Sherwin stimulates our powers of observation in the portrayal of water subjects.

The landscape painter in watercolour, searching for his subjects, often finds that some of the most attractive and interesting ones contain water. Whether it is river, harbour or open sea, the work requires a different approach from the painting of surrounding countryside or buildings.

To create the illusion of water, with its ripples, sparkles and sometimes wind ruffled surface, is a fascinating exercise which is often skated over, or not very well expressed, by many amateur painters.

I would say that the open sea is the most difficult to convey in terms of paint. It is always on the move and, susceptible to passing cloud shadows, it requires a special study and keen observation.

In riverside subjects, the success lies in how well one is able to paint or suggest the reflections of the bank, or trees, at the water’s edge or beyond. If the water is still, an almost complete inverted image will result, but more often, reflections are broken by movement of the water’s surface by wind or a passing boat.

As I live by the side of The Thames, I never tire of watching a fisherman casting his line. As his float strikes the water, I am fascinated by the concentric rings that occur on the moment of impact, which widen and then vanish. Generally speaking, one gets the truest reflections nearest to the river bank where the water is calm, but in the middle of the river they get lost where the water is disturbed by movement, only to recur again by the near bank.

Painting water successfully really depends on keen observation and it is important to pay the same amount of attention to the ripples and reflections as to the trees, bridge or boats that may occur in the picture. I have frequently seen sketches where the artist has spent heaps of time successfully painting his subject, only to fall down on the water, which usually comes last, and then hopefully trying to get away with a few smears of colour.

Remember that water always takes on a reflection of the sky, showing clouds and patches of blue. It should always look consistent and the colours used may frequently be the same, except in pictures painted against the light when the sky is just a glow. So much for the theory, now let us get down to the practical side.

River Avon

The Avon at Charlescote. Watercolour 13” x 20”

The Avon at Charlescote, above, was painted in my studio from a pencil sketch made on the spot.

I was attracted by the dark clump of trees and their reflections which were placed centrally in my picture. The distant church that appeared over the river bank also reflected in the calm water.

I noted that the reflections from the trees were fractionally lighter in tone than the trees themselves.

Having painted the sky with a diluted wash of Naple’s yellow mixture, I used the same for the painting of the undercoat of the water; excepting for the small area in the distance where the wind had ruffled it, the paper was left untouched.

After the wash had dried off, I mixed a wash of Payne’s grey and raw umber and painted in the reflections with a No. 12 sable brush over my initial wash.

A pale mixture of cobalt and light red was superimposed over the water, leaving here and there some lighter patches where the light caught the surface.

The reflections on the far bank were added and the top of the church tower, using a mixture of Payne’s grey and viridian, whilst those of the willows were painted in a warmer colour.

I have restricted my methods only to the painting of the water. The river was slow moving which gave me scope in painting the reflections.

Content continues after advertisements

The Mouth of the Rance, Brittany

The Mouth of the Rance, Brittany. Watercolour 13⅛” x 18¾”

As a change from conventional river scenery, I include a watercolour The Mouth of the Rance, Brittany.

As I sat on the quayside at San Servan, in the late afternoon, I was attracted by the open water with distant small craft and nearby fishing boats waiting to be unloaded.

The water in the foreground was so clear that it took on an emerald tint, typical of that part of the Brittany coast.

The boats in the distance were bobbing about in a swell and did not reflect, but the nearer ones in calmer water had strong and interesting reflections. I indicated them in a patterned shape using viridian green in the colour mixture.

A few cloud shadows were racing across the middle distance and they were put in by using a stronger mixture of the cobalt grey I had used in the painting of the middle distance.

The last touches to be painted were the nearer ripples on the water’s surface, directly put in with a soft brush to give construction to the foreground which I find in a seascape is one of the most difficult problems.

Perfect reflections

It is not often that one is able to see the perfect reflection. It only occurs on a pond, a lake or stagnant water, usually in the evening when any light breeze has died down.

I remember seeing this occurrence while sketching on a Thames back-water at Sutton Courtney. Tall, overgrown willows grew side by side of stagnant water. The reflections from these were perfectly mirrored, so much so that when I came to paint them from my drawing, I decided to make a tracing of the trees which I inverted and rubbed down on my watercolour paper as a guide.

It should be remembered that only objects on the waterline show a true reflection. Those beyond only partly reflect. Trees, for instance, set back a few hundred yards from the water’s edge, only show their tops, according to the distance and height of the bank in between.

I am frequently asked if it is correct always to paint reflections darker in tone than the objects reflected. This decision must be made according to the conditions. Those seen in deep still water are always darker, providing the light comes from the front, but if the sun is behind they will appear lighter.

A boat sitting on the water usually shows a darker reflection, but when lit from the back, the light shines through the water’s surface and tends to make it paler.

Incoming Tide, Bude

The incoming tide, Bude. Watercolour 12½” x 20”

My watercolour, The incoming tide, Bude was painted some time after I made the drawing on the spot.

Experience I had gained in painting large areas of sea prompted me to reconsider the sketch and turn it into a watercolour.

A good deal of licence was taken in leaving out unessential parts, particularly in the foreground, but that is what painting is about. It has been said that nature should never to be allowed to dictate to the artist, he should rather take only what he needs for his picture.

The effect I wanted to paint was one of a cool, spring evening in early May, with a strong swell of Cornish seas breaking on the nearby rocks; with the harbour entrance marked by tall posts and a rocky headland behind.

Cool colours were largely used in the painting: ultramarine, Payne’s grey, Winsor blue, with only Naples yellow and burnt sienna for the warmer ones.

The rocks were painted in a strong mixture of burnt sienna and ultramarine. The sky was pure Naples yellow and a mixture of Payne’s grey was used to give recession to the headland.

The sky colour was washed over the sea area, excepting for the crests of the waves, I then mixed in a saucer, a large pool of Winsor blue, with a small amount of cobalt. This was used in varying strengths for the water, taking care to isolate the tops of the waves. Later these were built up by adding a little more cobalt to my mixture.

A wave, having expended itself by breaking on the shore, reverses its action with a backward drag until it meets the next oncoming one. I tried to convey this in the foreground by painting on damp paper in order to avoid any hard edges.

The rocks were painted in on dry paper by using the colours I previously mentioned, and with the addition of the two small sailing boats putting out to sea, the sketch was complete.

There is much to be said for painting a picture such as this away from the subject if one has the skill. It is easier to cope with movement of water which can be very confusing on the spot and, of course, one has not the same facility for alteration as the painter in oils.

Majorca

Quiet evening, Majorca. Watercolour 12” x 20”

This year, I sat under the shade of some feathery Tamarisk trees with my sketchbook in the small port of Andraitx, Majorca.

I was facing west, the light was beginning to fade, and the sky and water were taking on a beautiful opal effect. Small, blue and white fishing boats were silhouetted against the clear water and formed the basis of my pencil drawing.

When I got down to painting Quiet Evening, Majorca in my studio, I found it very suited to watercolour, with pearly greys and strong contrasts. The distant headland and harbour wall were painted in a cobalt and light red mixture, superimposed on the yellow glow of the sky.

A lighter and warmer wash was run over the water, leaving a slick of white on the horizon.

The covered boat-shed was my darkest part, and I used a strong, raw umber mixture, whilst, for the boats, I used Payne’s grey for the white ones and ultramarine for the blue ones.

The only reflections in the picture were for the boats, and I painted them in with darker shades of the same colours. Sketches, painted against the light, allow a simplified treatment and the use of a limited colour scheme.

In conclusion, I hope that you may find my methods of tackling water and reflections useful and, at any rate, that they may stimulate your powers of observation.


This article is taken from the April 1979 issue of Leisure Painter

Content continues after advertisement