A couple of quick sketches, and sunny days in Lyon.

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I found little time while travelling up the Rhine to actually sit and sketch, though I did manage a few times. I have shown you the windmill sketch already, just outside Amsterdam. But here I show one sketched from my cabin as we moved closer to Basel and the finish of our cruise.

Beside the Rhine.

For this sketch I used fine pen, 6B pencil, and aquarelle pencil. I sketched swiftly across the two pages, getting this down in a matter of minutes, as dinner was ready to be served. I like using a darker pencil on a smooth paper (as this was), as I love rubbing the lead with a fingertip hinting at shadow or contour. I popped in blue and green to remind me of where I could lay a watercolour wash through at a later date. I never did the wash, but quite liked the immediacy of the sketch.

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Off to Cologne – The Cathedral & Museum Ludwig.

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The spires of the Cathedral under a moody sky

We continued our cruise through the night from Dordrecht, with me dreaming of the wonderful windmills we had seen in Kinderdijk that day. The ‘ship’ docked in Monheim at approximately 9am on Friday. Soon after we were on a coach and heading into Cologne where we would begin our walking tour. Our destination – the Cathedral. We needed to cross the bridge, you see in the photo, but so did zillions of others, and rather like we found in Amsterdam, the pedestrians had to fight with cyclists for the same space. I was surprised when the tour guide told us that we would likely be shouted at, or even sworn at by cyclists! And although I was never sworn at, the walk across the bridge was certainly memorable.

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Off to Cologne – The Cathedral & Museum Ludwig.

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The spires of the Cathedral under a moody sky

We continued our cruise through the night from Dordrecht, with me dreaming of the wonderful windmills we had seen in Kinderdijk that day. The ‘ship’ docked in Monheim at approximately 9am on Friday. Soon after we were on a coach and heading into Cologne where we would begin our walking tour. Our destination – the Cathedral. We needed to cross the bridge, you see in the photo, but so did zillions of others, and rather like we found in Amsterdam, the pedestrians had to fight with cyclists for the same space. I was surprised when the tour guide told us that we would likely be shouted at, or even sworn at by cyclists! And although I was never sworn at, the walk across the bridge was certainly memorable.

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Cruising along and visiting windmills

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Amsterdam to Basel

After joining the ship, we spent the first afternoon settling in to our cabins (named staterooms on board), and prepared to meet staff and other passengers whose company we’d be among as we made our way from Amsterdam towards Basel, the culmination of our river cruise. As we imagined, the food and wine was of a high standard and helped us enjoy the eight days on board very well. Added to this was a crew member, who doubled as a great pianist and singer, whom we listened to throughout the evenings pre and post dinner. There was a rundown by the Programme Director on the following days’ events each day, with guided walks included in overall cost of cruise, and other excursions which cost more. But, if you have trouble sleeping, I suggest you do such a cruise as I, an erratic sleeper, cannot recall such a sound sleep as we moved through the night, and docked without my hearing a thing.

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It all started in Amsterdam

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Amsterdam was where we would join the Viking Sigrun (they call it a ship, not a boat) and the other approximately 179 others who had chosen this trip up the Rhine for a week’s voyage. Kerry and I chose to arrive early in Amsterdam, giving us time to meet friends, and to rid ourselves of jet lag, after our lengthy flights from New Zealand. Over 36 hours should you wonder.

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When feeling a little off, why not sketch fruit which reflect those feelings.

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I am soon off to Europe for a trip and should be full of vim and vigour. At least producing more sketches for my next project, but I’ve done little except moan about toothache, or a pain that could be sinus, or it might be…? Maybe tomorrow the periodontist will come up with a name, but meanwhile a winter sketch has lifted my spirits – a little.

Starting point

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Frances Hodgkins’ wonderful legacy

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Frances Hodgkins (1867-1947)

When I learned the Gow Langsford Art Gallery in Auckland was holding an exhibition of New Zealander Frances Hodgkins’ paintings and Mary Kisler, an authority on Hodgkins, was to be speaking with gallery owner John Gow about the artist, I booked in immediately. I arrived early, as many were expected to attend, and I strolled around the gallery taking photos until the rooms swelled with viewers. I, like so many New Zealanders, have been attracted to Frances Hodgkins’ art for a very long time. Being an artist, I admired her determination not to be pigeonholed by any one style. She was adventurous, and prolific, working in many styles and mediums throughout her life. And although Hodgkins moved to Great Britain as young woman and spent most of her adult life there, she is still very much admired and loved by us here.

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Back to the memoir in pictures

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You may have thought I’d never get going on this idea of a memoir of me as a youngster. True, I didn’t get far, but there were other things I had to do. But now I have looked through my initial rough sketches, and have decided to show them to you, I feel it is a small start. My plan, from here on in, is to complete a couple of images in colour on good paper, using watercolour and pencil, as a trial for the finished product. Today however, it’s just more pencil roughs. Except for the photo of me, left, taken on a Brownie camera in the 1950’s. Yes, I’m that old.

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From Devonport to Christchurch and back: theatre, family, and scenes to take your breath away.

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I took this photo the day before flying to Christchurch; A good omen I felt. Kerry and I were off to attend the first night of a play selected to mark the opening of the new Court Theatre in the Christchurch CBD. The original theatre in the old university buildings suffered irreparable damage in the 2011 earthquakes.

The play, The End of The Golden Weather, written 50 years ago by New Zealander Bruce Mason, is a Kiwi classic, and my daughter Lara was honoured to be asked to direct the show. We were thrilled to be at the opening and to see how she would interpret this beloved play. Yes, this was a big deal!

Lara Macgregor: Director
Sumner beach

The morning of the play, we were with my sister in Sumner taking a walk along the esplanade. It was a stunning day, and naturally I took a photo, looking along the beach towards the Southern Alps (which sadly, were hidden behind cloud at the time).

Behind me were dozens of surfers, mostly women who were there for a competition. The air was chill, and they all deserved medals for their desire to brave the cold water.

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A bit of this and that, or a memoir in pictures

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Possible wrap around cover featuring ME!

This week I started in on some pencil roughs intended for the future graphic novel. Everything is guesswork on my part, completely experiential, as it’s the first time I’ve embarked upon this genre. Over the months I have picked up and examined many graphic novels, by women, mostly. This has been such an interesting exercise, as they are so different from each other and all brilliant.

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