I continue to practicewhat I learned from my friend Alison about painting a loaf of bread — not because I have any particular interest in bread representation in the future. I’m pretty close to having exhausted the number of loaves I really want to sketch — and probably well past the number you wish to see here.
But the lessons I’m learning as I practice are transferable lessons — mostly about mixing colour (I’m fascinated to see the way that a red, blue, and yellow come together to offer that hue of the bread’s interior — and, as I’ve learned, this is the same kind of mixing that will get me flesh tones as well, just varying proportions as necessary).
I’m also trying to fold in some experimenting with composition — I don’t think that including the brotform or banneton (the cane basket the loaves rise/ferment in, that they take their shapes from) was particularly effective in this sketch, but I’m pleased with the knife.
Mostly, though, I’m simply trying to choose a sketching subject (as close to daily as possible) and get on with it. Yes, I post the results here often, but my little sketchbooks are really just for me, a way of recording what’s happening in my life. So I give myself permission to make errors (the colour of the brotform, my quick decision to paint its coil-lines so loosely). . . .
And then I add my text (using one of my fountain pens, choosing the ink colour for an appealing contrast) — and as soon as I do, I find myself pleased with the finished page. Not that I’m not aware of where it could be improved. But I’m still pleased. . . .
Let me transcribe my red writing for you, before I share a second example:
Top right: September 10, 2018, Started the week by baking the two loaves of Fig Anise Sourdough that I made up Saturday (they’ve been slow-fermenting in the fridge since then). My bread-sketching skills are not keeping pace with my bread-baking, but there is some improvement.
Top left: Banneton or brotform — although perhaps it looks more like a beehive here!
Above the knife, from the left margin: Now that the bread’s been baked, tested, sketched, it’s almost lunchtime, but first I’m going to practise my Italian and my French (placement test this p.m.)
Below the knife: I think we bought this knife at Dehellerin, in Paris, quite a few years ago–back when we were still checking luggage. . . No knives allowed in carry-on!
Bottom right: Currently reading Michael Ondaatje’s Warlight.
And another page, this one from a larger sketchbook (whose pages are not watercolour paper but which do tolerate a light wash). . . see? it’s not all bread, all the time, around here. There are apples as well (harvested from our terrace garden!)
Again, a transcription:
Top right: September 11, 2018. I’ve been reading Mike Yoshiaki Daikubara’s book Sketch Now Think Later. It’s intended for urban sketching, but I thought I’d play with some of his tips at home. . . Mostly what I tried here is leaving some of the sketch without colour, then using that space for text.
Top left: Ah, the sweet scent, the association of cinnamon added by my olfactory imagination.
Bottom left, perpendicular: After I posted a photo of our small apple harvest on Instagram, a “Follower” suggested the apples would make a great subject for a painting . . .
In the Apples. 1st apple, on the left: Scarlet Sentinel Apples — The tree was planted Spring 2017 & yielded 5 or 6 apples that first harvest.
2nd apple: This year, perhaps thanks to “our” mason bees, the harvest is closer to 20 apples, enough for several pies.
Bottom of the page: I tried to keep this quick and loose — I had difficulty getting the proportions & positions of the apples accurate[ly] but decided that wasn’t so much the point here. As well, this paper is only suited to a very light wash of watercolour.
That’s it for today — I hope you’ve enjoyed this foray into my kitchen and my sketchbooks. Comments and questions always welcome. . .
This is so interesting And I didn't know the word banneton was the mold for the bread rising–I have seen it (duh) and assumed it was some brand name. Thank you for setting me straight. This is better than all the many "gros mots" my husband uses and I repeat, understanding the overall meaning but not the less-polite nuances, only to discover when I've used such phrases that I've said something very naughty. But banneton is safe.
Well, there's Benneton, of course, which is a brand name 😉
As for the "gros mots" — I once used the verb "corriger" in a social situation in which, I registered about 3 a.m., waking sharply from a deep sleep in horror, it carried an entirely different connotation than the sense in which I'd meant it. . . My friend admitted, when I expressed my embarrassment later, that she and her husband had enjoyed a chuckle over it . . .
I had not heard of a banneton either. The blending of the colour of the bread is impressive. I had not thought about all the different hues in the interior of the loaf. I like the idea of sketching without overthinking.
I usually, now, hear it called a "brotform," but I baked bread for decades without adding this word to my lexicon.
Beautiful sketches – I love the way you capture the everyday and I am sure that this is the way to progress, the little and often approach. Not that I paint or sketch but at a workshop yesterday the tutor told us the only way to get over the tenseness we felt at grappling with the flowers was to go out into our gardens every morning, pick a few things and arrange them without thinking too much so that the process becomes natural. (She hasn't seen my garden but she assured us that weeds work too). Something to do with muscle memory, I think.
And, by the way, I am perfectly happy to see your spelling of Practice… it's just its usage in that form over here that gets my goat.
Oh, are you studying floral arranging? What a beautifully sensory way to be creative and to learn so much about texture and colour and balance and chaos and just all the good stuff.
I did get that about your spelling objection — to me, it's all about context.
Absolutely all about context. But it was one of those ghastly moments here when, having ranted about the spelling of a certain word in a comment to your previous post, I turn to your latest and find that you've used that very word in the first line… Very glad that you have been so gracious about it.
I love the different nuances and shades that language takes on as it migrates and so I love to read North American texts and to see the fresher, more imaginative, more efficient, use of vocabulary. This said, I am particularly amused by the changing meaning of quite, as in in 'you are looking quite lovely'. Over here, that means okayish, not too bad, could do better; over with you, I believe that it means that you are wowing them in the aisles, stopping the traffic, utterly drop dead gorgeous.
Re the flower arranging – I'm taking a few classes, having been put off the activity by encountering the rules brigade and their formal ideas of right and wrong. The flowers arranged by the professional florist in Church and reception venue at our recent wedding, and those produced for the intervening Church hall tea party by a talented amateur flower arranging friend, were so lovely and so different from the stiff concoctions I had envisaged, showed me a different way and so I wanted to have a go myself. At the absolute entry level, you understand. And yes, I am indeed finding it an immersive process and to dive into this sensory world of colour and shape and form is a joy. So far my efforts have looked quite lovely in the British sense of the word…
I find your journal sketchings delightful. They add so much life and personality to your journal in a way that words can't always convey. As for your bread, all I can say is that, as usual, it looks scrumptious!
Thanks, Mary! I do think they work well together with words, nudging something hesitant out of the crevices, perhaps. . . .
Your paintings are really lovely…you must feel more confident about them now. The bread sounds tasty too…figs are divine.
I do feel a bit more confident about them — I see their limitations so clearly, especially since I see the work of many more talented friends, of other students in classes I take. . . . but I'm increasingly confident about why I paint them and what they add to what I'm trying to express. And yes, aren't figs just the best?!
I missed having figs from my neighbours tree this year…I think she must have made jam! I must ask her…
Your command of the watercolour medium is more and more deft. Lovely use of colour there. And I agree with Mary, the bread looks delicious, in fact it is making me hungry! Brenda
Thanks, Brenda! I've got so much more to learn, so much more skill to acquire, with watercolour — and it just takes those hours and hours and hours of craft. I do think I'm beginning to understand some techniques and principles.. .