The Boys in Violet Blue
…the perils of recording a city in these troubled times…
‘I often walk through Paternoster Square, in London’s Banking District. The other day I realised I could create a good cityscape from the scenes I typically see there. In particular the view of lunchtime nibblers and smokers sitting around the monument (with its concealed fountain within), juxtaposed with the strident, clickety-click workers, full of purpose, permanently and upwardly mobile…
I took photos and did a quick sketch idea, but this view was not right. I wanted to demonstrate how near the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral is, so I went back and approached things differently. Thinking of composition – the single most important aspect of my creations (apart from the other things – not least the aspect)-the top of the monument, the cross on top of St Paul’s and a figure in the right place meant I would have depth and movement here. Incidentally, this is another cityscape created on a sheet of A2. This bigger size canvas means that the time and work expended initially, when drawing the structures in Grey ink, has to be top quality. Upon starting this piece, I subsequently realised that my reference material – both the actual pictures, but also the view – weren’t good enough. So I had to go back and visit the venue for a THIRD time..
On this occasion, unfortunately, members of the City of London Police found my technique of taking ‘bursts’ of pics with my iphone decidedly NOT to their liking. As I was walking out of the square, a member of our finest constabulary accosted me – he’d been running! – and barred my way, saying ‘Afternoon Sir – can I ask what you were doing? Taking those pictures?’ Then a second officer sped around the corner – she was even more breathless – and, upon hearing my explanation, chimed in with ‘that would explain the ink on your fingers, then Sir!’. I somehow managed to resist retorting with ‘how come you’re not in C.I.D., with detective skills like that?’ and, the upshot was, we had a chat, I showed them my pictures (she said she really liked them ‘I’ve never seen that kind of Art before!’) and they said I could go. Fanks. Basically, with the situation in London as it is, and this incident being on the anniversary of the London Bridge attack, well, you don’t mind so much. It’s kind of reassuring that the authorities are keeping an eye on, well, us. And them… Whereas the young, rebellious me would have been indignant and argumentative with them, the late middle-aged, wizened, arthritic me was just mildly irked and bemused that they might’ve thought I was up to no good…
It transpired that, when actually putting ink onto paper, the structure of the monument/ fountain thing foxed me. This meant I had to go back there for a FOURTH time and get some more references. I did this on a Sunday morning, when there were no Old Bill around to spy on me – and I’m ready to go and create. Splashes of Copic Blue Violet, although not REALLY there, seemed the way to go – so here we are…’
But…
The bare bones.
Over halfway…
