Botanical Painting - Flower Arranging on Paper
I am often asked what attracts me to botanical painting.
There are many intriguing aspects to this magical and increasingly popular art form, but for me the most beguiling is the contemplation - and the closeness - of sheer beauty.
I suspect the same may be true for all passionate flower arrangers.
Simply put, botanical art is flower arranging on paper.
Despite the differences in techniques and skills, a great deal of what I teach would make perfect sense to the flower arranger.
You have to develop a 'good eye': an eye for colour and composition, for balance and proportion.
You must learn to pay attention - and respect - to the unique qualities of each flower or leaf you are working with.
Skills and the necessary technical knowledge are built up with patience and dedication.
It's all very familiar to us both.
Although botanical art is a specific branch of scientific illustration whose primary intention is to convey information, the botanical artist must also, like the flower arranger, ravish the eye aesthetically.
Through the use of colour, form, line, design and detail, both disciplines try to communicate to the viewer the emotions we feel when we contemplate the astounding complexity and beauty of nature.
Sir Roy Strong calls it "a constant amazement at creation".
The Japanese artist Hokusai speaks of "penetrating the mystery of things".
The ability to hold up a mirror to nature and harmoniously arrange what you see there is not easy.
It requires careful and thoughtful planning, just like a flower arrangement.
You are often given a complicated subject to work with: lots of flowers and leaves, crossing and twisting stems, blending or clashing colours, tiny but nevertheless vital details like spots, hairs or thorns to contend with.
We have to be ruthless in deciding exactly what, and how much, is relevant: relevant both to the species and to our composition.
The golden rule here is 'All that is not useful in the picture is detrimental to it': many a composition has been ruined by a beginner's eagerness to cram in every last darned thing.
I should imagine exactly the same applies to flower arranging.
Henri Matisse wrote that 'a work of art must be harmonious in its entirety'.
I can't think of a better definition of a perfectly arranged vase of flowers.
The ability to project onto paper a unique response to, and interpretation of, nature's wonders is a marvellous skill: for me it's like being able to read.
Even if you haven't drawn since school, learning how to see and setting down accurately what you see, opens doors to a world within everyone's reach.
It's called contemplating beauty, something both botanical artists and flower arrangers have been doing - often side by side - for centuries.
There are many intriguing aspects to this magical and increasingly popular art form, but for me the most beguiling is the contemplation - and the closeness - of sheer beauty.
I suspect the same may be true for all passionate flower arrangers.
Simply put, botanical art is flower arranging on paper.
Despite the differences in techniques and skills, a great deal of what I teach would make perfect sense to the flower arranger.
You have to develop a 'good eye': an eye for colour and composition, for balance and proportion.
You must learn to pay attention - and respect - to the unique qualities of each flower or leaf you are working with.
Skills and the necessary technical knowledge are built up with patience and dedication.
It's all very familiar to us both.
Although botanical art is a specific branch of scientific illustration whose primary intention is to convey information, the botanical artist must also, like the flower arranger, ravish the eye aesthetically.
Through the use of colour, form, line, design and detail, both disciplines try to communicate to the viewer the emotions we feel when we contemplate the astounding complexity and beauty of nature.
Sir Roy Strong calls it "a constant amazement at creation".
The Japanese artist Hokusai speaks of "penetrating the mystery of things".
The ability to hold up a mirror to nature and harmoniously arrange what you see there is not easy.
It requires careful and thoughtful planning, just like a flower arrangement.
You are often given a complicated subject to work with: lots of flowers and leaves, crossing and twisting stems, blending or clashing colours, tiny but nevertheless vital details like spots, hairs or thorns to contend with.
We have to be ruthless in deciding exactly what, and how much, is relevant: relevant both to the species and to our composition.
The golden rule here is 'All that is not useful in the picture is detrimental to it': many a composition has been ruined by a beginner's eagerness to cram in every last darned thing.
I should imagine exactly the same applies to flower arranging.
Henri Matisse wrote that 'a work of art must be harmonious in its entirety'.
I can't think of a better definition of a perfectly arranged vase of flowers.
The ability to project onto paper a unique response to, and interpretation of, nature's wonders is a marvellous skill: for me it's like being able to read.
Even if you haven't drawn since school, learning how to see and setting down accurately what you see, opens doors to a world within everyone's reach.
It's called contemplating beauty, something both botanical artists and flower arrangers have been doing - often side by side - for centuries.
Source...