Somewhere in Spain, on the Costa Blanca, in the middle of  mountain chain at about 600 meters above sea level, there is a little village called Tarbena. I have been there many times, as it is a picturesque place in a spectacular setting – heaven for land and townscape artists – and I have presented some artworks featuring it in my different art sites and blogs. The place was originally an agricultural community, with many olive groves, almond trees and cherry orchards gracing the countryside., but in the meanwhile, with all the tourists passing by, above all attracted by a famous restaurant run by an one-armed communist,I guess it is as much tourist-driven as agricultural!

Anyway, one day as I was there, I came upon some extremely striking scenes. I saw three men sitting on a bench by a monument in the village square – the church or the town hall, I don’t remember-  whose facade was made of a structure which looked like bubbles. The men were  sitting lazily around, dozing, chatting, sunbathing, in colourful, comfy clothes. Not far from them, in the main street leading to the square, I saw three women together -their wives perhaps?- standing in front of a house entrance with big black bars. The women were totally clothed in black, standing ramrod-straight like soldiers, and looking more dangerous than them, even without the guns!. I was amazed by the difference between these two scenes, wondering if this was in fact a little glimpse inside Spanish society, at least in little retired villages. The men sitting around, doing nothing apart from enjoying a colourful life, and the women living a busy black-and-white life between kitchen, shop  and church… The fact is that along my many journeys through Spain, I often saw similar scenes, this one being by far the most striking one!

That day I was in Tarbena just passing by, and no time to paint from a motif, so I just took some photos with the intention of later making some artwork based on them. And indeed I started two paintings, in ink and watercolour, but somehow, I got interrupted in the process of doing them, before they were really finished, and I never touched them again.

I rediscovered these two paintings a short time ago, as I was revisiting art works from the past. I don’t fancy finishing them now (I hate to go back to past paintings), but well, I think they are far enough along to get an impression of what I described in this post!

So here they are, The Men and Women from Tarbena!

The Men from Tarbena

 

 

The Women from Tarbena

I’ve decided to include a few images of my art holiday group thoroughly enjoying themselves and taking advantage of me by getting me drunk and making me dance till the wee hours of the morning. Well someone has to!!!

dance till I drop

Not to be outdone, Raymondo, the jolly owner of the apartments, showed me some authentic Greek dancing – actually I showed him how to rock n roll – once I get started, I can’t stop

greek rock n roll

Get together in the ground’s garden prior to the evening meal and entertainment.

who's round is it anyway?

Ok. So I’ve struggled through the maze of technoblog and I think I have finally cracked it (with help from the ever patient Miki – hey Miki you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind – hey Miki, hey Miki). To prove I am now in control of my own blog I am going to attempt to insert an image or two (Miki did the last one). The images, hopefully will be some from last June’s art holiday in Kefalonia. We had a great time out there and my small band of artists learned how to  do outdoor sketches with a view to gathering all necessary information from which to take back to the studio to complete a finished painting. You can see examples of their work in the Travelscapers web page. Below are a couple of photos showing them in action – on all fronts. Keep posted. Gav

sketching in the park

day trip with the group

Hi all. I am new to Travelscapers and don’t quite know what I am doing but here goes my first blog on this site (hopefully). I have been painting and tutoring art for more years than I care to remember and last June I joined up with my good friend Jeff whom I have known since my schooldays, to supply an art holiday course in Kefalonia, Greece. Jeff is about to retire to Kefalonia after holidaying there for over 25 years, so he is my main man in Greece. You can access the course information by visiting www.artholistay.co.uk/

I have to admit that this year was just a tester to see how successful it was and although the group that holidayed with us was fairly small, the holiday itself was a resounding success. The mature students that came had a fantastic time (as you can judge for yourselves on the website in the revue page, plus the photographs taken from the holiday). We are having another on next June, 2011 and the booking dates are as follows. I’ll keep you posted!

Gav

Kefalonia Art Holiday:-

Booking now open for the following dates:-

2011: 5th June to the 12th June

and 12th – 19th June;

Price £450; see below what is included…
A PACKED AND VARIED PROGRAMME:- Full step-by-step demonstrations

One-to-one tutoring by professional international artist Gavin Mayhew, focusing on topics such as perspective, composition, texture, creativity, tone

A flexible programme – work with as many mediums as you wish, from oil and watercolour, to charcoal and pastels

Excursions for painting and sight-seeing

A variety of subjects from landscapes, seascapes to village and harbour scenes, ruins and markets

Relax and enjoy beautiful views from the sunny terraces or a swim in the sea (only 8 minutes walk from the apartments)

Expert, professional tuition during the course

Greek art holiday flyer
Seven night’s bed and breakfast, no extra cost for singles

Seacliff Bridge goes over the ocean near the cliffs at Coaldale.

This Bridge was built as there were too many rock falls off the cliff so the bridge was was built. It is a wonder to see and one of the most spectatular views here on the the south coast of NSW Australia and it is a must to see.

Buon Viaggio!

While planning one of our visits to Sicily, I did a little research on Enna. One guidebook labeled Enna as a “dreary city.” And yet further assessment indicated otherwise.  I decided to find out for myself.

Well, let me tell you, Enna is any but “dreary.” If you’re looking to paint “killer views” a trip to Enna is a must.

One of the oldest cities on the island, Enna has been called “the navel of Sicily,” by the Greek poet Callimachus, but is usually known as “the belvedere of Sicily”, which seems a better-suited title considering its stunning views.  Enna is also the highest capital in Italy.

You can set up in Piazza Crispi and either paint the impressive view over Calascibetta, the Madonie Mountains, or a remarkable view of Etna.

For architecture sketchers and painters, you’ll love the Castello di Lombardia. Six of its twenty towers are still standing and it’s considered one of the most imposing buildings of it kind in Sicily.  Byzantine in origin, it contains Norman and Swabian add-ons.  Bring your camera and sketchpad up into the tower, called the Eagle or Pisan tower, where there is a far-reaching view over the surrounding countryside.

The public gardens on the outskirts of the city, not only burst with prismatic delights, the octagonal tower that Frederick II built in the 13^th century is a must see.

Dreary city, my ass!

By Pamela Allegretto

27th of July 2010

Capileira

We drove from Trevelez to Capileira, on the other side of the valley, on a road hardly safer than the one on which we had arrived. But when the sun is shining and no black clouds are hanging over the gorges, it looks less dangerous.. But still, at many points,  great chunks of the mountains had fallen down onto our side of the road, while the other side of the road had collapsed into the gorges. That day I took it with a laugh but only as long as there was  enough road left to allow us to pass!  The laughing stopped when we suddenly saw a lot of cars and lorries stopped by the roadside, including the Guardia Civil, and all the people somehow looking down into the gorge… I guess a car had gone off the edge as it collapsed…  scary stuff, really!

The town Capileira. is certainly less impressive than Trevelez, much smaller and without the ambition to reach the sky! Quite cute though, full of cool shops along the main road, good sketching motifs everywhere. But here again I faced some unexpected problems. In fact it is the problem which many artists face when they start painting  Andalusian villages: white houses, red flowers in pots hanging from balconies, green leaves, blue sky… very attractive and refreshing for the eye, but , in my humble opinion, a trap for the artist: kitsch is never far away! Sincerely, I think these villages are not really adequate for good oil or acrylics paintings, except if one can find some kind of abstraction where one is able to artistically reconcile all the basic elements involved. Total realism doesn’t do it for me, not even by the hand of skilled painters.

Here in Capileira I tried myself to ‘fight the kitsch’ using pastel chalks, but pastel is a dangerous tool in itself, easy to fall into triviality., and again, as in Trevelez, I failed!!! In my defence I must add that in my travel set the chalk pieces are all mixed and it is almost impossible to recognise which colour they are.

Eventually I came back to my usual sketching ink and watercolour technique, which at least normally renders the lightness and freshness of the subject quite well.

But still: although it was better than in Trevelez, I didn’t feel comfortable sketching. I felt tense, nervous… perhaps there were again too many people around, and a “snobbish” atmosphere pervading the town. Somehow the feeling that the people here, above all the foreigners, thought they were something better for being here, all wandering around in their expensive climbing outfits with a walking stick in hand! Do they feel so superior because they climb some mountain in the Sierra Nevada? Or is it me, who feels so inferior, just sitting down on the road , in my dusty trousers, my sketch book and my little magic wand in my hand? The times are long gone when being an artist brought you some consideration…

And if somebody does take some notice of you and stops by, it is just to tell you that he paints too, or somebody in the family does. Or a friend. The distance between an artist and a normal person is minimal nowadays.

Like the woman who saw me drawing and stopped by for a while. No interest whatsoever in what I was doing. She simply started telling me that there was a wonderful exhibition in one of the local restaurants..A Japanese painter had arrived once in Capileira  and started painting the villages around, just for bread and bed.

Later on I went and had a look. I was extremely curious to see how a Japanese artist dealt with the Andalusian kitsch… well, he didn’t really, the kitsch is there, omnipresent, but at least sometimes he had managed to rescue it, adding some Japanese traditional elements to the paintings like a naked black branch with a bird on it….

But you know, some people love that Andalusian kitsch, Like that woman who sent me to the exhibition.  Commenting on my paintings, from which she saw some on the gallery leaflet I gave her, she just said,

“They are very romantic…”

No idea if this was meant as a compliment. But judging from the expression on her face, I guess not. No wonder actually: Spaniards seem to live on the other side of romanticism, as eager as possible to avoid it!

By Miki

25th of July 2010

Trevelez

“In Trevelez you will touch the sky”

….is written at the entrance of the town.What they forgot to say is that you have to be quite fit if you want to touch the sky here! The town is divided into 3 parts: the low, the middle and the high. Logically, the sky is the closest to the high part, but even there stretching your fingers won’t be enough to touch it, you still have to climb higher. Quite close though!

This of course makes the village very interesting to sketch. Interesting but difficult, a real challenge. Steep narrow streets running up and down, houses all over the place invading all space dimensions, outlines crossing each other wherever you look… well, I am quite used to crazy buildings and weird villages, but I must admit having had a tough time sketching in the town. I didn’t get anything right, all perspective and dimensions were wrong, Not that I am a fan of sticking to dimensions and perspective, quite the contrary in fact. But everything I tried went wrong! Not wrong in that charming style which looks like as if you did it on purpose. Simply wrong,  and totally unprofessional.

My God, I felt so ashamed!

Many people were around, it was a Sunday,  tourists from all continents trying to touch the sky, and of course I was quite an attraction sitting on the road and sketching! Thankfully most of them didn’t bother to look at my pad, probably too exhausted from climbing. Anyway, as an old hand at the art of sketching in public, I had taken the precaution of sitting against the wall, with no possibility for anybody to come from behind and look over my shoulder. People think  they are very clever, they think I don’t get at all what is going on around me when I sit there,  so concentrated and focussed on my motif. They always try to fool me. Yes, I am very concentrated, but I also always  feel like a tracked wild animal, all senses open, aware of every tiny movement and smell around me. I notice everything… Also, you can’t imagine how often these “papparazzi” are taking photographs of me while I am sketching, believing I don’t notice it. They think they are incredibly clever, strategically placing one of their number not far from me, feigning a holiday photo. I know the trick, I use it often enough myself when I want to photograph somebody without getting their permission first.

Whatever… I bravely kept on sketching, fighting against all these adversarial elements, but eventually I gave up, in the meantime being in a much too horrible mood to go on. The feeling of failure was extremely deep. It is rare by me, not that I rarely fail, but I had to learn wisdom through all these years of sketching outside and painting. I don’t expect much, just trying to enjoy the process, not thinking of the result. I have become quite good at it. But here in Trevelez, it really took me by surprise, never felt so crap like that before in my entire life as an artist.

Is that what they mean by “touching the sky”?

Because I sincerely think I touched HELL!

But still, I would recommend this place to everybody, Painters or no. Trevelez is a very special town, unusual, with splendid views and an original layout. And for those who love the Spanish ham, the famous “jamon serrano” – well, it will be heaven for them here. I guess this is what they mean by “touching the sky”: Thousands of hams are hanging all over the town, and the smell too!

What is weird though is that you don’t get to see one pig. Many horses yes, lovely peaceful horses grazing in the fields at the foot of the mountains. But not one pig…. They are probably all dead and hanging in the shops…

PS: as I went back to the motorhome that day, unable to settle for defeat, I started at once working on the sketches trying to save them. I used pastels, it made it easier to cover all the problem lines and angles… 

In the end, surprisingly, I am quite happy with the result!

By Miki

Austinmer Beach  is painted in oils and is painted on 60cms X 36cm gallery stretched canvas it in the Illawarra region where the mountain meets the sea on the east coast of NSW Australia it is a very popular tourist spot and a great beach to swim

Tourist fromm all over Australia come here and it is and excellent surfing beach. There is b&b where people stay. I painted this paint on the headlands above the beach

24th of July 2010

Turre – Almeria – Trevelez

We left Turre in our Boomobile about 3 in the afternoon. As always, travel preparations were minimal: some stuff to paint, some stuff to eat, some stuff to wear, not forgetting some warm sweatshirts and wandering boots this time. Then out of the house, into the motorhome, and off we went. Our destination:  the Sierra Nevada, Andalucia, Spain. Nowhere special in mind there really, I had just googled a little bit before we left and written down a list of mountain villages, some of them lying quite high, about 1400 metres. We would probably visit them if they happened to cross our road up there. This is the way we mostly travel: hardly planning, and led by fate.

But I had some very uncomfortable doubts: the weather was not good. We hadn’t seen any rain for months here in Turre, but suddenly, today, it was raining and the sky was black. Climbing Spanish mountain roads up to the Sierra Nevada in a big motorhome under torrential rain was not one of the most reassuring thoughts ..

Well, somewhere on the way the rain stopped, and as soon as we left the highway about 40 kilometres after Almeria the road started climbing and deviating seriously. I felt increasingly uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that thoughts of going back home crossed my mind at each curve and each new gradient. And although the rain had stopped, dark clouds were still hanging in the sky, the higher we drove, the darker they became. When we eventually reached El Parque Natural de La Sierra Nevada, it was about 7 PM, A spectacular landscape, no doubt, worth a life of paintings. But like always in these kind of places, no chance to park the motorhome safely. I find it always so frustrating to go through these dream landscapes, to start putting in my head lines and colours on an imaginary piece of paper and then not to be really able to start: it hurts deeply. The downside of travelling in a motorhome… the only one though!

In fact we wanted to stop now for the night, but we couldn’t find a place. We soon reached a little village called Berchulez. I wished we could have stayed there, it was lovely, and had loads of motifs  for me to sketch. But there was just a big town fiesta going on and hundreds of cars and scooters and people and animals were trying to find some place in that tiny space and we almost got stuck in the middle of the village – Of course, to the big pleasure of the people there. No way then to look for place, we simply escaped, and again it hurt deeply in my artist’s soul that I couldn’t do even one sketch!

We decided to head towards Trevelez, one of the villages on the list. I must say that the road to it was one of the scariest I have ever been on. I suddenly understood what was meant with these road re-inforcement works announcements we had seen at the entrance of The Parque Natural: 600 000 Euro here, 700 000 Euro there, for sections of road not even 10 kilometres long. No wonder: everywhere, tons of rocks and stones were lying on the side of the road, well, on the road itself too, and some parts of the road were totally destroyed, sometimes half of it totally missing, or fallen away underneath, or above, and cracks and creases all along… incredibly scary, believe me! I guess this was the result of the abundant rains we had in Spain some months ago. I can’t even imagine what really happened there, how many accidents must have occurred on this road alone, how many deaths, and how many places must have been cut off from the rest of the world for how long! Really it must have been terrible. The whole scenery reminded me of the images of Haiti after the earthquake, on a smaller scale of course, but still apocalyptic somehow…

The situation was aggravated as the mist came up and only the first meters on the road in front of the motorhome seemed to exist… the rest had totally disappeared. Needless to say, I was scared to death and to tell the truth I wished we had gone back home as it first crossed my mind. But home was far now, and it was getting darker. To drive back on that hell of a road in the other direction, in fact on the very side of the road which had fallen away and was often bordered by some deep precipices, was simply unthinkable.

Anyway, we eventually arrived in Trevelez, proudly standing 1476 metres high.

“In Trevelez you will touch the sky”

is written at the entrance of the town, and indeed, the white buildings climb up the mountain, higher and higher,  to finally disappear into the sky.. or into the mist, but what is the difference anyway!

Sorry, no sketch to show for this first day of the trip… let’s hope mañana will be more prolific!

Just a tiny little watercolour which I quickly did before dinner on that evening, an impression from memory of the town as we arrived

By Miki