Every picture tells a story, they say, and whenever I pitch an easel out in the open I invariably attract someone who wants to watch. Frequently, they tell me about how their grandfather exhibited with the RI, and how they had a go once, but couldn't find The Muse. I normally reply that The Muse is very evasive and demands a certain amount of artistic blood to be squeezed from stone before she deigns to appear! Sometimes I have an encounter that, though brief, stays with me forever. The first time I set up an easel at Wells-next-the-Sea was one such occasion. I had spent the morning pastelling in Staithe Street and, my subject finished, I did some lightning studies of figures as they strolled by. Presently, an old lady appeared, shuffling up the street, pushing a battered shopping trolley. I have an affection for shopping trolleys, as I have owned a succession of them. I've never actually used one for shopping, but for carrying my easel, painting boards and other gear, because the spot where the Muse has decided to sit and wait for me is often, inconveniently, half a mile from the car. While the old lady was still some way off, I began to sketch her - not with any view of doing a likeness, just to try and capture the way she moved, and how she paused from time to time to catch her breath, before shuffling on a bit further. Her coat, which must have fitted perfectly once, was now too big, so that she seemed to have shrunken into it like a wizened walnut within its shell. Her shoes were like boats, and looked in danger of tripping her up. As she drew closer, I stopped sketching and just held my breath, ready to dart forward and lend a helping hand if needed. Finally, she drew level with me and wished me a 'Good maarnin'.' We exchanged a few words, but between my struggling to latch onto her broad Norfolk, and she being somewhat deaf, we didn't get beyond a few amiable nods and smiles. We made our farewells and, my work finished, I took a couple of photos up and down the street as reference for later use in the studio. As the old lady turned away, my ear was at last sufficiently attuned to catch her parting comment. 'Don' yew go takin' a picture of me, tha' lens might break!' And off she went, pushing her wonky trolley up the street, the squeaking of its wheels still audible after she had disappeared into the crowd. Although I visited Wells many times thereafter, I never met her again, but she made such an impression on me that she has lived on in many a painting of street and market place. And here she is in this pastel of Staithe Street. This subject was worked on fine glass paper. With its multi-faceted texture it's good at bringing out the 'brights' in pastel. But its rough surface devours pastel sticks rapidly, and if you aren't careful it will also take the skin off your fingers! For that reason I very rarely use it, preferring papers such as Canson mi teintes or the softly flecked surface of Tiziano. 'Staithe Street, Wells' can be viewed in the Pastel Gallery under Landscape and Marine.
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Judith Key
Judith Key is a Norfolk based artist, working in watercolour and pastel. She has exhibited with the Society of Graphic Fine Artists and New English Art Club at the Mall Galleries, London. Her paintings are in collections worldwide. Categories
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May 2018
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