- 1 – Loafing mouse: initial sketch (with ‘atmospheric shading’ to fudge over some slightly dodgy lines…)
- 2 – Lightbox tracing
- 3 – inking over traced image
- 4 – cleaning up line drawing (gently…)
- 5 – drawing desk, with associated paraphernalia and overheating lamp
- 6 – first wash of colour
- 7 – layering over the initial wash
- 8 – a little more paint…
- 9 – …and another layer…
- 10 – Loafing mouse: (skipping ahead a bit) final strokes
Whether interesting to the average browser or not, I thought a little detail regarding my approach and technique (such as it is…) to an illustrative challenge might prove an advised addition to the general flotsam whirling around this blog site. I realise that exposing my ‘methodology’ to scrutiny – or even casual observation – might well elicit guffaws of derision as opposed to appreciative murmurs of interest, but it also might go some way towards accounting for the hours expended in pursuit of my most favoured ‘look’ for colour pieces and even, perhaps, precipitate a few time-saving revisions to the system that I have been practising over the last year or so (largely unaltered, thus far). A bit of in-house R&D then, really – feel free to skim swiftly over and return to the Home page if it’s all sounding jut a mite too introspective for your taste!
So, by way of illustration (I would apologise, but I fear there will be many more shameful puns – if not during the course of this laboured post, then almost certainly during its succesors – rendering the uttering of any apology at this stage entirely inadequate; a vast catch-all *SORRY* to follow…), I thought I’d capture a mouse at various stages of his reification to demonstrate the ‘phases’ I customarily work through.
1: I’m afraid I can’t represent, in a more tangible manner than vague mumblings, the inkling of ‘mouse’ spliced with ‘loafing’ and possibly a smattering of ‘deep satisfaction’ (post-chunk-of-bubbly-aerated-chocolate-goodness) that precipitated first contact between pencil and paper on this occasion, but the sketch that materialised is pictured (please see numbered sequence of images, above, corresponding to the stages I describe – see what I mean about technical ineptitude? This is not as I had envisaged it…). I have been experiencing what I can only describe as an alarmingly protracted and stubbornly recurrent ‘infestation’ of mouse characters, internal visualisations of which seem to have entirely eclipsed all other thoughts; in the interests of clearing out some head-space for more creative, less rodent-based concepts, then, I find I have to disgorge a mouse or two on a pretty much daily basis…
2: Once I have a rough image I’m reasonably satisfied with, and from which I’m confident of extricating a good linear drawing, I’ll attach this to the light box (which I will probably have cranked into life a couple of minute earlier to allow the eco-bulbs sufficient time to warm up and cease their curious buzzing…) with masking tape, and fix a piece of fresh watercolour paper immediately over it – again, with masking tape – so that I can then trace the image directly onto the surface to which I will eventually be applying paint. I use a relatively hard-grade pencil (either an H or 2H) for the tracing to avoid graphite smudges on the watercolour paper and to keep the lines clean – the less unnecessary marking of the watercolour paper made at this stage, the less use I will have for an eraser after inking (with 0.2mm black fineliner, typically), and the better the preservation of the painting surface (rubbings out – especially the repetitive kind [!] – degrades the paper surface and can lead to the paint behaving in mysterious and infuriating ways on application, i.e. bleeding beyond the lines, in multiple directions!). I have also used a smooth, heavyweight paper (dry) in this example as opposed to the Bockingford type I would normally use (after stretching – i.e. pre-soaking and tensing to prevent buckling on further dampening during the painting process) for larger pieces, as I know I shan’t be applying much in the way of liquid to the surface, and it also gives a more uniform final appearance to the colour (Bockingford is quite highly textured, lending the painted image a more textural [obviously...], invitingly tactile quality, but less suited, I find, to more intricate, small-scale pieces). When the initial drawing has been quite rough, I might first define the image that is to be traced from with pen or a softer, darker pencil so ensure that the image that appears on the watercolour paper is as true as possible (where slight changes/inaccuracies are unwanted).
3 & 4: Once traced, I’ll detach the papers from the light box (and each other!) and ink over the lines I want to preserve and which will remain visible after painting. Any pencil markings I don’t wish to be immortalised beneath several layers of paint, or to splay out from the edges of the finished image (although this can lend a much more relaxed feel and a freshness where a clean-cut line isn’t imperative for later photoshop-engineered shenanigans), I’ll gently remove with a soft eraser at this stage.
(5): Now that I have the ‘canvas’ prepared, I’ll decide on a colour scheme and mix myself some paints accordingly. I use artists’ watercolours – little, concentrated nuggets of pigmented goodness that come wrapped in foil like boiled sweets, and which may be blended in an infinite number of combinations (although I have started making a note of the most successful ‘partners’, and approximate ratios ['dabs of a brush' is clearly far from exact in terms of increments], particularly for tones I use most frequently). More important for larger pieces, but a useful system to adopt from the outset, is to mix what might seem comfortably more than enough for the project in order to avoid the dilemma whereby you exhaust the little well of meticulously blended and tweaked colour before completing the area to be covered and then face the, er, challenging (though, theoretically, not impossible) prospect of attempting to exactly replicate that tone to finish (without betraying your mistake…). I always use a scrap of paper taken from the same piece/type of paper I’m working on for testing colours, so that there are no unwelcome surprises in terms of paper-paint relations when I brush onto the actual piece. For this reason, it’s also sensible practice to test each brushful of paint on the test paper before taking it to the illustration in progress, to be sure that there hasn’t been any separation of the paint (some pigments or more prone to sedimentation than others), although, if you’re working fairly quickly (and haven’t quite mixed enough paint for such profligacy…), not imperative.
6: With only the most rudimentary grasp of basic watercolour method when I first began using this medium (1: leave white/unpainted the areas you want to remain white; 2: apply lightest colour first; 3: work in phases, layering up paint to achieve greater intensity), I start with the lightest wash of colour that will form the base colour of the image and represent the lightest areas of the finished piece. The first stage, then, tends to look pretty bland and not at all skillful (she said, brazenly implying that admirable skill would magically arise from future assaults on the page!).
7, 8, 9: Having decided on the ‘lighting’ set-up (i.e. where the light source will be in the image and, thus, where shadows should fall), and having waited a sufficient time for the first wash of paint to dry (expedited somewhat by opening the window [unless it's chucking it down/improbably humid], turning the radiator on, or angling my work lamp a little closer to the page [it kicks out a remarkable amount of heat for a product described as 'energy efficient']), I’ll work over this first layer with a second layer in the same, but perhaps more concentrated mix (depending how intense the first wash was) of the same colour, concentrating on the area that I want to appear as ‘in shadow’. I’ll try and visualise the 3D form of the character I am colouring into being, in order that I can determine the shape these shaded areas will take around its contours, and where the shadows will be most intense/darkest. I’ll repeat this process, with subsequent layers (and darker shades) occupying smaller/narrower areas as I build them up, almost like the reverse of a contour map, with those smallest, most recent layers being recessional as opposed to standing proud of the flat surface (as a contoured map suggests, or as a 3D topographical model would show, in fact). Where the original colour was quite vibrant/dark, I may have to add a darker component colour to give a richer impression of shadow, as opposed to just working over in the same colour (which can result in a fairly flat image, still). In this example, I added more ‘Madder Lake’ and ‘English Red’ tones to the blend – which also included ‘Yellow Ochre’ – used for the fleshy areas of the mouse, to add the later layers and, hopefully, give an impression of greater depth.
This example took five layering stages, which is fairly typical of what I would normally work through, although larger pieces (on heavier paper, which is often more resilient and, so, more tolerant of repeated bristle-and-water attention) often require more working over to achieve a more convincingly 3D final impression, while I might reduce this to three layers for a more dramatic, almost pop art-style effect.
10: I might leave this image as it is, but frequently I will trace around the outline of the character with a broader-nibbed fineliner (say 0.3mm, or 0.5mm for larger images), which makes the character stand off the page a little – not always appropriate, and I have made a few misjudgments by forcing an image to do this when, really, I should have stopped meddling and left it to luxuriate in its slightly soggy, purely painted state.
I hope this rather more arduous than intended words-and-occasional-picture-shaped crawl through a simple watercolouring exercise was of some interest – please feel free to ask any questions/dismantle in cruelly thorough but deserved fashion my technique as delineated, and I shall be delighted to respond in a manner that might dredge something more worthy from the morass above…









