A Few Trees

by Deborah Watkins. Posted on January 13, 2014

13 Jan

Trees are a rarity here in Connemara as there are not many varieties that are able to thrive in the marshy soil or withstand the harshness of the wind and rain. I stopped to take a photo of this small copse at the side of the road near Leenane, about 20 miles northwest of Clifden. It was an unusually calm day and the rich colour of the grass and the calm pastoral nature of the grazing sheep caught my eye. I love the silhouette of the trees against the pale blue and white of the sky, also the low shaft of light at grass level in the photo above. Here’s another photo below from a slightly different angle.

This next tree was nearby on the other side of the road. I’m not sure if it is a hawthorn or a holly as I didn’t get close enough to inspect the leaves. It’s shape is typical of trees growing in exposed areas such as this, right on the edge of Killary harbour. Its has developed with the prevailing wind and it’s branches have literally swept over, forming a beautiful curve.

This next tree was also close by and it is a Hawthorn, one of the hardiest native Irish trees. It has been adorned with pieces of cloth and is known as a rag tree. These have been placed here by people who believe that an illness might be cured by offering a scrap of clothing from the person who is unwell. Others tie the cloths in order to make a wish which they believe might come to pass as the cloth fades away.

I’ve developed a love of trees since I’ve lived in Connemara and especially for these weather worn species that have been shaped by the harsh climate. Like the scraggy Connemara sheep that dot the hillsides, they are survivors here.

Renvyle – New Year’s Eve

by Deborah Watkins. Posted on January 3, 2014

03 Jan

Connemara was a wild and windswept place this New Year’s eve. I ventured out to the Renvyle peninsula, about 10 miles north of Clifden to meet a friend and walk along the White Strand. Passing through Letterfrack, I took note of the high tide at Ballinakill bay and sure enough the sea had overtaken the strand completely in Renvyle. The sea was washing hard over the remaining rocks and thrashing up against the dunes, no traces of sand left. The sound of it was remarkable – a kind of woosh as it pushed forward and then a roaring, crashing rumble as it pulled back over the stones.

Looking out to sea and beyond, the snow capped peaks of the Mweelrea mountains were clearly visible and then we spotted a group of black clad surfers in the water.

We watched them for several minutes – it was mesmerising..

A little further along the shore, we came across a rocky outcrop where we saw a shell midden. This is an ancient site consisting of shells, bone, vessel remnants as well as organic and other material. It is evidence of life here thousands of years ago where people gathered, ate, cooked and discarded their waste. My friend who is an environmentalist, informed me that this site is seven thousand years old, making it the oldest shell midden of its kind in Europe. As I take some photographs, I find it hard to conceive of this passage of time.

One more photo as we took a last look down the beach. The sky had darkened, the cattle silhouetted against the last of the light. They seemed to be grazing on the very edges of earth here. It started to rain and invigorated by the salty air and the spray we made a dash for the car. I made a mental note to return here again soon.

Clifden Castle

by Deborah Watkins. Posted on December 11, 2013

11 Dec

I took a walk around Clifden castle at the week end with my family.

John D’Arcy (1785 -1839 ) founder of Clifden, built the castle for himself and his family while the town was being constructed. It dates from about 1818 and remained in the D’Arcy family until shortly after John died. Due to financial difficulties, it then went up for sale and became the source of a series of disputes that have lasted over a century. Today it is owned by several families which sadly means that it is not likely to be restored any time in the near future.

We walked to the castle via the Beach road, right to the end and then along the cliff until the castle came into view across the fields. An awkward approach on foot, it is nonetheless a dramatic one as you first see the building ( now a ruin ) as a kind of grey specter surrounded by fields and facing out towards the open Atlantic. The area is completely unspoiled and there is a wildness to these fields, a timelessness about them. There are cattle and some beautiful white Connemara ponies on the land so the ground is well trodden and lumpy underfoot. It is easy to imagine the castle in another time as it is such a commanding building on the very edges of this place. I decided to take my photos in black and white which I felt suited the atmosphere.

The colour one below gives a good impression of it’s situation. All the other photos are my own.

Clifden castle from the Sky Road

Clifden castle from the front

Here are some more photos, taken from the eastern side. I took these through the gnarled branches of the old trees. Something about these reminds me of Wuthering Heights, the ominous house in the wild moors.

More drama on the approaching path where some sheep wool has snagged in the barbed wire.

I took several photos of the Connemara ponies but unfortunately most of them blurred. This is the best of the lot – I think the sharp movement of the animal suggests wildness again and drama.

Mannin Beach

by Deborah Watkins. Posted on December 6, 2013

06 Dec

I made a trip to Ballyconneely last week, a short drive south of Clifden. I brought my camera and made a quick detour to Mannin as the weather was so good. I normally associate the end of November with a certain gloom – receding light, rain and bitter cold but here we are, into December and still there are clear bright days. There was real warmth in the sun on this morning and the sea was calm and inviting and empty, except for a few bird tracks in the damp sand. Here’s the approach from the field below – the mossy grass is still vivid and bright. It’s deliciously spongy underfoot, feels a bit like an expensive carpet.

The Twelve Bens mountain range is clear in this one.

Here’s the cover photo again. There was hardly a breath in the air – the water was completely still and a perfect mirror for the pastel sky. All this blue seems infused with pink.

A last look down the beach.

Land of Weather

by Deborah Watkins. Posted on November 27, 2013

27 Nov

Cover image ‘Land of Weather’ by Karinna Gomez

(This piece features in the December edition of the Connemara Journal.)

About a year ago, I bought two etchings by an artist called Karinna Gomez. Karinna is from Fairbanks, Alaska in the United States. She makes small series of prints – mezzotints, woodcuts and etchings, sometimes hand coloured with water colours. To my shame, these prints were only recently taken out of their packaging and given the frames they deserve. Now that they have pride of place in my home I can honestly say that I take pleasure from them every single day.

There is something wonderfully mysterious about this icy place, so isolated and exposed, it reminds me a little of Connemara. I love the contrast between the white hills and valley and the dark central group of trees, lit by red and orange speckles. These are ‘persimmons’ – an orange red fruit that grows on the ebony tree and which can tolerate and adapt to a wide range of climates, including harsh northern weather. They beam like tiny beacons in this wonderful scene and seem to me to be symbols of hope and optimism which is perhaps fitting as we reach the end of another year.

‘Persimmons in the Snow’ by Karinna Gomez

December is a good time for reflection and I feel grateful to be able to say that I have had a rich and fulfilling year. I thank God too that my family are all in good health. I know that this is not so for everyone and I think of some of my closest friends especially who have had a difficult twelve months for different reasons. Whatever our circumstances, I think it is part of the human condition to look forward to the coming year with hopefulness and expectation. These are some of the thoughts which I have brought to this poem below as a kind of homage to this beautiful etching.

Land of Weather

after the etching ‘Land of Weather’ by Karinna Gomez

star

looks down

on that snowy

mountainscape.

It is so cold there,

wild abandoned place.

Vastness and silence stretch

sharply over snow and ice,

empty hills retreat into fathomless black.

Billow of cloud rushed by a northern breeze,

braced in the heart – a startle of persimmon trees.

Survivors huddle together.

Nest of tangled debris,

silver twigs, tiers

of frozen leaves,

scattered boughs.

Berries pulse a blood red tint,

flashes of gold flood

the moonless night –

Yearnings

of an earth bound

constellation.

Deborah Watkins

If you would like to see some more of Karinna’s work, you can visit her shop at www.etsy.com – type KarinnaGomez in the search box. Her works are for sale at remarkably low prices, so why not treat yourself or a loved one to something special.

November Landscapes

by Deborah Watkins. Posted on November 21, 2013

21 Nov

Cover image – ‘November Pool’ by Deborah Watkins

These landscapes were worked together. They are all done on 5″ x 7″ heavyweight acrylic paper. The one above is based on a view of the Twelve Bens mountain range from the Roundstone Bog Road. I’ve kept the mountains sketchy and light to make them recede a little and I’ve used lots of thick paint and ink in the foreground to describe the grasses and this large pool. I didn’t take photographs during the process – they were worked quickly and sometimes I find that stopping to take images interrupts the session too much.

I’ve called this one below ‘November Red’ – the colour of the bog has been exaggerated but the contrast between the paleness of the grasses and the peat itself is there.

‘November Red’ by Deborah Watkins

This next painting was also worked quickly – I’ve used large brushes for the foreground and smaller ones to describe the hills behind. It’s evening so the colours are all quite dark. I’ve attempted to heighten the drama with this dark cloud shape that mirrors the swirling lines of the bog.

‘November Evening’ by Deborah Watkins

A little too much colour for November? Perhaps, but is is all fading now and quickly so maybe I’m just taking stock..

Black bog, blue hills

by Deborah Watkins. Posted on November 14, 2013

14 Nov

I’ve been working on some small paintings this week ( 5″ x 7″ ) – I really enjoy painting on this scale as I can get results quickly. It’s not just the speed factor though ( impatient as I am ) it’s the ability to make a better response to the landscape. At the moment I find this more difficult with larger work – covering the canvas takes longer so the response is less immediate. I believe that smaller works and drawings often have an energy about them that is lost in larger work. I would love to scale up in the future and get better at making bigger paintings – a bigger space, bigger brushes, more paint – it’s good to think about the possibilities. For now small is good for me.

The composition here is based on a favourite spot of mine near Oughterard. When I drive past, I want to stop the car and get out and just take it all in. Sometimes I do but it’s not always possible and it is a very fast stretch of road.

This is how this piece started out below. I’ve used large brushes and lots of colour, a little charcoal too.

Here’s the next stage. I’ve played with different consistencies of paint – thick and thin layers over each other. I’ve used a sepia ink to describe the bog which is almost black at the moment. I allowed the paint to dry before continuing.

Once this first layer was dry, I used smaller brushes to add spots of colour – some green in the foreground and more red and blue on the hills behind – a little more definition overall.

Happy with this one now and eager to do some more..

Green Way – Progression

by Total WP Support Inc.. Posted on November 6, 2013

06 Nov

I finished this painting of the ‘Green Way’ ( Inishbofin ) recently. This was a commission and I was given a photograph (below) on which to base the painting.

I chose to adhere to the photo quite closely for the composition as this is a well known spot and the clients know the area. This is how it began below.

I filled in more colour next. Yes lot’s of green in this one.

Next I added some textured paste.

Now more colour. This time I’m using paint and ink together to get the effects I want.

Just a bit more colour and I’m almost happy with it. Time to send an image to the client. This can be tricky as each photo is slightly different – some images have a blueish tinge while others are more yellow – depending on the time of day and the lighting conditions ( and taking my limited photography skills into account ). Also, viewing a painting on a computer screen is a completely different experience to viewing a painting in life.

I send off a photo and some adjustments are requested. There’s a bit of to’ing and fro’ing and finally the painting arrives at this point below. It’s an interesting one – where does the control begin and end? I believe ultimately with the client when a painting has been commissioned but it is a fine line and one which must be travelled carefully in order to protect the integrity of the artist/painter. There is also the element of challenge for the painter – having certain restrictions focuses the mind and a deadline always helps produce results.

Autumn Fire

by Total WP Support Inc.. Posted on October 24, 2013

24 Oct

Cover image ‘Oughterard Bog’ by Deobrah Watkins

I’ve just written this piece for the next issue of the Connemara Journal. I took the photo above on Tuesday – the colour of the landscape here in Autumn is breathtaking and this year is no exception. Never mind New England in the Fall, what about Connemara in the Fall?

October stepped in quietly this year and gave us days of unexpected sunshine and warmth beyond anything we might normally expect. The long hot Summer has already ensured that 2013 will be remembered far into the future. I’ve always loved the colours of the landscape in late Autumn – an in between time of growth and rest. Since the bog fires in April, the grasses have changed from their luminous green shoots into fields of warm brown and again over the last few weeks into a lustrous fiery orange. When the wind is up, the now tall grasses appear to move like flames and give off an imagined heat through their colour. There’s a very particular kind of light at this time because the sun is at it’s lowest. When there’s moisture in the air, there’s a flatness to the sky that reaches around everything and blurs the horizon. It always makes me think of a theatre stage where the light is low and objects appear edgy and sharpened. Keat’s describes this aspect of the season in his poem ‘To Autumn’;

‘barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, and touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue’

(from ‘To Autumn’ by John Keats 1795-1821).

‘Land Interrupted’ by Deborah Watkins

The American poet Emily Dickinson speaks about Autumn light in her poem ‘There’s a certain Slant of light’ written in 1861;

‘when it comes, the Landscape listens –

Shadows – hold their breath –

(from There’s a certain Slant of light’ by Emily Dickinson 1830 – 1886)

Enigmatic lines appropriate for a season where colour and light are heightened briefly before they are dulled again. Keat’s poem ‘To Autumn’ is first and foremost an ode of praise while Dickinson uses the season as a metaphor for change and the difficult acceptance of ageing. I think that both poets and many like them recognise the beauty of the season as it exists poignantly on the edge of Winter but perfectly and eternally not yet Winter.

Landscape by Deborah Watkins

Sea Paintings

by Total WP Support Inc.. Posted on October 13, 2013

13 Oct

While I’ve been busy with the The Green Way painting, I’ve also been working on some small seascapes for the annual ‘Sea Week’ festival due to open shortly in Letterfrack. The theme this year is ‘A Memory of the Sea’.

These are done on 4″ x 4″ canvas which I enjoy using – small paintings enable a certain boldness that is not always possible ( for me ) on a larger scale. The painting above was inspired by some photos I took when I visited Inishturk this Summer, I’ve exaggerated the wildness of the sea which was relatively calm at the time although not quite calm enough for my feeble constitution as I discovered..

This next painting below is called ‘Ebb Tide’ and is drawn from memory.

I used acrylic paint and inks with both of these and I added charcoal to the ‘Sea Cliffs’ piece once the paint was dry. These photos were taken before varnishing so the finished pieces will appear richer.