The trees of autumn

Ian Sidaway offers solutions for capturing the glow of autumn colours in watercolour

As August turns into September the once vibrant greens of early summer become lack lustre, then something remarkable happens – autumn arrives and the landscape takes on a new face which, in terms of colour, is debatably the most interesting time of the year to paint. The summer and winter seasons are relatively uneventful in material changes to the landscape, although nothing changes the landscape like a covering of snow. The changes brought on by spring can be over, depending on the weather, in a matter of weeks. But the autumn changes are slower. They can begin imperceptibly in late August and carry on through to December, giving the artist a full four months to enjoy and capture those changes.

After spending a summer mixing greens it’s a joy to start expanding the palette to begin using more oranges and reds. As autumn progresses the landscape seems to glow and achieving that glow can be problematical when using watercolour, as mixes never quite seem to capture the intensity of the colour seen. My solution is to use a fairly limited palette, mixing as few colours as possible.

Quinacridone gold A great start for mixing autumn colours is quinacridone gold – not a colour I regularly use but a very useful one all the same. The quinacridone colours are made from synthetic organic pigments and are exceptionally lightfast, very bright and extremely transparent. Daniel Smith and Winsor & Newton used to manufacture a single pigment (PO49) quinacridone gold but both versions were discontinued in 2017 and only versions made using a blend of pigments are now available; they’re not quite as bright but still very usable.

The single pigment version available from Daniel Smith for 17 years, made from pigment bought up from the automobile manufacturing industry, was so loved by some watercolour artists that, when it was announced that it was to be discontinued, they began to panic buy. The problem that artists found was that whilst the new versions look very similar when used unmixed, the colours produced when mixed with other colours were very different. I never used the old version so I cannot comment but my gut response is to say quit complaining and adapt. Surely there is a wide enough range of colours available across the manufacturers to suit even the most particular artist? Over the years many colours have come and gone, replaced by more permanent or cheaper alternatives, and this is something that will continue to happen.

Inspiration We learn by looking at others’ work and some of my favourite paintings of autumn were made by the Group of Seven. Also known as the Algonquin school, these Canadian artists were

inspired by the landscape and known for their simple forms, tactile paint handling and bright colours. It is especially the work of two founder member artists, Franklin Carmichael and AJ Casson, that I am drawn to. A contemporary watercolour artist whose work I especially admire is Bob Rudd. A fellow RI, he has painted some terrific autumn trees, along with many other works that hit the mark, which appear to have been painted with a deceptive economy that takes considerable skill to achieve. Then there are the autumn landscapes of Klimt that are large enough to stand in front of and immerse yourself in. But of all the paintings depicting autumn it is a small oil by Monet that hangs in the Musée d’Orsay in Paris that takes my breath away every time I stand in front of it. The painting

Le Pavé de Chailly, which measures only 17x23⅓in (43x59cm) without its frame, is one of several painted en

plein air from the same spot in the forest of Fontainebleau on the road to Bas-Breau; the sense of an early autumn morning and the quality of the light is magnificent.

Barnes Common SW13 Horse Chestnut, watercolour in Moleskine sketchbook, 9x11½in (21x29.5cm). In autumn leaves change colour at different speeds on the same tree, which allows for clearly defined dark leaf shapes to be painted against leaves that are lighter in colour. An old, well-used soft fibre fan brush is ideal for this.

Greenwich Park, Horse Chestnuts, watercolour on Saunders Waterford NOT 300lb, 21½x21¾in (55x55cm). Late autumn and into winter, and still the remnants of leaves cling on tenaciously. It’s time to shift focus and concentrate on the fantastic patterns of bark and the tracery of twigs and branches against the sky, helped by the sharp deep shadows seen on a bright crisp morning.

Barnes Common SW13, The Avenue, watercolour on Bockingford NOT 200lb, 8x8in (20x20cm). The painting, which was made from the watercolour sketch (left) thins out and clearly defines the leaf shapes. The warm orange colours contrast nicely against the almost complementary greens and help the colours look bright.

Hampstead Heath Oak, watercolour in Moleskine sketchbook, 5½x14in (14x18cm). This oak was magnificent and demanded a lot of attention. I first made several drawings using a fine liner, followed by several watercolour sketches. My initial thoughts were to use the drawings as reference for a panoramic painting of the scene that showed the sweep and increasing density of the trees as one walked away from the path and into the woods.

Hampstead Heath N6, Oak, fine liner in Moleskine sketchbook, 5½x7in (14x18cm). A fine liner pen and a small sketchbook is all that is needed to produce a small study of a gnarled oak. The negative spaces read both as sky and foliage.

Heath Oak 2, watercolour on Saunders Waterford Not 300lb, 13¼x13¼in (34x34cm). The same tree, but from the other side. It seems obvious to state but the shape of a tree can look dramatically different depending which side it is viewed from. This tree looked great from any angle.

Hampstead Heath Oak 1, watercolour on Saunders Waterford Not 300lb, 13¼x13¼in (34x34cm). The square format concentrated attention onto the tree. Notice how the aerial perspective is depicted using lighter tones in the distance and large leaf shapes in the foreground.