Underwater Drawing
Fish and Underwater Art
From the early 80’s onwards I spent several decades painting marine life subjects from underwater photos and museum specimens. However I always wanted to work more from real life and in 1995 a French documentary team enabled me to embark on a project which had occupied my thoughts for many years, to draw my underwater subjects in situ. Whilst living in Paris in 1995 I developed a drawing system and found materials which would work underwater, by filling the bath and testing all kinds of drawing mediums.
Fish and Underwater Art
From the early 80’s onwards I spent several decades painting marine life subjects from underwater photos and museum specimens. However I always wanted to work more from real life and in 1995 a French documentary team enabled me to embark on a project which had occupied my thoughts for many years, to draw my underwater subjects in situ. Whilst living in Paris in 1995 I developed a drawing system and found materials which would work underwater, by filling the bath and testing all kinds of drawing mediums.
Voyage to the Red Sea
off the coast of Yemen
Then during a voyage to the Red Sea off the coast of Yemen later that year, organised by a team of documentary film makers, I executed the first of my large scale panoramic drawings of a coral reef. The process imposed a steep learning curve. Unexpected difficulties had to be overcome, such as the magnifying effect of the water- which made my hand seem larger but the reef appear normal and the constant surge and the cold were challenging. This first large drawing though exceeded my own expectations. I have continued with the same materials and methods ever since, even using today the very same underwater drawing board I built in that small apartment in Paris many years ago. My process has been refined as I continue to develop this technique, but the principals remain the same.
Sitting on the ocean floor
to draw is like meditation.
My breathing slows down remarkably, I am very relaxed and it feels as though I’ve become a part of the reef. There are often fish all around me, darting back and forth while I work amongst them. And there are magical moments when normally shy creatures appear from amongst the coral, right in front of my eyes.
Sometimes weeks are spent drawing these reef scenes, from four to five hours each day on the bottom, breathing from scuba tanks, kneeling on the seafloor with extra dive weights for stability and to hold down the buoyant drawing board. I spend long periods completely immobile. During one such drawing session a large sea urchin travelled very slowly across both my flippers. On another occasion a huge Oceanic Manta Ray, perhaps attracted by the contrast of my white drawing board, slowed down and passed so close over me that it almost brushed my head as it passed.
Returning to the surface I carry out some immediate touch-ups, filling in shadows for example which I have indicated by shorthand symbols to save time underwater. Then back to base camp where I refine more the days drawing and trace the edges onto another sheet, the starting point for the next days work. Gradually, over a period of days and weeks I create a mosaic of drawings of the reef.
Back in the studio I painstakingly align these, assemble them and mount them onto a panel. Now that the reef drawings are a whole it is time for the final work; balancing shadows and detail and bringing the drawing to life.
Sitting on the ocean floor
to draw is like meditation.
My breathing slows down remarkably, I am very relaxed and it feels as though I’ve become a part of the reef. There are often fish all around me, darting back and forth while I work amongst them. And there are magical moments when normally shy creatures appear from amongst the coral, right in front of my eyes.
Sometimes weeks are spent drawing these reef scenes, from four to five hours each day on the bottom, breathing from scuba tanks, kneeling on the seafloor with extra dive weights for stability and to hold down the buoyant drawing board. I spend long periods completely immobile. During one such drawing session a large sea urchin travelled very slowly across both my flippers. On another occasion a huge Oceanic Manta Ray, perhaps attracted by the contrast of my white drawing board, slowed down and passed so close over me that it almost brushed my head as it passed.
Returning to the surface I carry out some immediate touch-ups, filling in shadows for example which I have indicated by shorthand symbols to save time underwater. Then back to base camp where I refine more the days drawing and trace the edges onto another sheet, the starting point for the next days work. Gradually, over a period of days and weeks I create a mosaic of drawings of the reef.
Back in the studio I painstakingly align these, assemble them and mount them onto a panel. Now that the reef drawings are a whole it is time for the final work; balancing shadows and detail and bringing the drawing to life.
