tomgenders

The one tree project started as any other plein air painting starts for me. I loaded up my gear and walked out from my house, 5 minutes down the road, to one of my favourite local trees.  The weather was good on this late July day in 2024, it was hot. I wanted to have a go at a painting facing into the afternoon sunlight and at playing with the colour to give a sense of the heat. It was one of only a few hot spells that summer. The buzzard family were mewing, but the track was otherwise quiet. A few swallows darted over head. I set up my easel and worked for a few hours until the light changed too much. I worked the painting up in the studio adding more texture and depth to it.  I had no intention to paint the tree more than once at this point.   

After some extended days of rain the sunshine returned briefly in early August and I had so enjoyed painting the oak, I thought I would head back and paint it from the same aspect at a similar time of day. The rain had refreshed the grass verge and put off the farmer from harvesting the wheat yet. I cropped the oak more this time moving in a little. The day was hot but not as hot as the one in July. House martins chirped and wheeled above me.

I was particularly productive in August and painted outside most days. I had a pretty horrible accident playing cricket that month so some of the paintings were made with the use of only my right eye as the left had closed up temporarily. Luckily the scar is mostly concealed in my left eyebrow! The neat stitching job done at St Paddington's hospital in London, by a hugely skilled young surgeon from Assam in India, in the UK alone to work, as race riots flared in the streets around us. I digress..... The idea formed to paint the tree again, and again. 

September is such a gorgeous month, full of mist and mellow fruitfulness, Keats' words, not mine, unfortunately. The morning was crisp, the light mists burning off as I began to set up my field easel. I positioned myself on the other side of the oak, the morning light pouring through the limbs. This painting was nearly all completed on location with only a few minor retouches in the studio later.  I was still focusing on mark making and texture, but as with all these studies my primary aim was to give the feeling of the scene and the time of year, some would call it impressionism. My favourite swifts had long since left and only a few swallows were seen after the painting was made, summer was truly fading, but it was a mild month and the oaks hardly changed colour at all well into October. 

Finally a hint of colour on the oaks, another mild month. I saw both muntjac and roe deer along with brown hare whilst making this painting, A veritable feast of delightful mammals. The slight breeze was starting to drop a few leaves, but the oaks generally still held a very full canopy. This one needed more time in the studio as the light changed quite quickly whilst I painted outside. I painted this from almost the same spot as the September picture, and at a similar time in the morning, thus the four so far are in pairs, two summer afternoons and two autumn mornings. This was more of an exercise in practicing technique and style than a considered compositional idea. 

A painting that was about 50% plein air and the other half in the studio. The light changed rapidly and I worked quickly to get the basics down before it was just too different to continue.  Colder air was finally taking hold by mid- November and I waited until nearly the end of the month so that the leaves had a wonderful burnt orange colour. Still a mild month it seemed for November. It was very quiet down on the track but the robin sang his heart out and a little Jenny wren occasionally trilled it's repetitive song from the willows by the stream.  

Near the end of December when all the leaves had finally dropped. I was holding out for some sunshine but it never came so I resigned myself to painting a rather colourless and foggy oak. I am glad of this now because it gives contrast to the 12 paintings. I can't remember seeing any wildlife on the walk down, it was dank and murky. The light changed very little for the four hours or so I was there and so I was able to finish the painting all in one sitting on location. The only painting in the set finished in one day.  I was extremely cold by the time I finished, my nose running, but with a sense of achievement having completed half the paintings in my calendar. 

This was by far the coldest day I went to paint the oak. I only managed a matter of minutes on location with this one, by far the least amount created en plein air, but this was due to the fact I chose to paint it at dawn, the light changing before my eyes, and the fact that the next day and those afterwards were completely different weather see above. Therefore I had no choice but to work from a photo to complete 90% of this piece. I am pleased with the texture and freshness of it. 

In February it had been very wet for weeks and continued to rain a lot though the month but with some good spells of sun, one such day I set out to paint my oak. The sunny dampness had made the green algae (Trentepohlia) thrive on the bark of the oaks and they were almost lurid green this February afternoon. A new angle of the oak shows its close neighbour and is from the side where it shed a large limb a few years ago, new small branches starting to fill in  the void. The robins and dunnocks were in good voice that day, spring felt like it might be just around the corner.  I was able to get a good chunk of this painting done on site but it needed a lot of work in the studio. 

No leaves on the oaks in March but the first of the avian migrants were arriving and chiff chaff calls were the soundtrack to this painting. A mild day with watery sunshine, which seemed to pick out every single crack and crevice in the bark of our oak. The painting was more considered and time consuming than most to accommodate this extra detail, with more than half of the work done in the studio afterwards. 

In between heavy showers, almost all of this painting was done on location. The spring leap was seemingly energising me to work with intensity and speed. The bird song fantastic even in the early afternoon, chiff chaffs, song thrush, blackbird, robin, whitethroat to name a few. The hawthorn blossom was starting to show and the oak had finally burst bud with a light canopy of young yellow green leaves. I was eager not to overwork this painting and so did not add too much in the studio afterwards. 

The heat wave had begun by mid May allied with a wet winter it made for a spectacular month of greenery and blossom.  It was hot on the 17th and 18th when I made this painting in two sittings. I wanted the sun on my back and to incorporate the thousands of oxeye daisies and buttercups across the track from the oak. As I was finishing up on the 17th a roe deer came very close and was barking at me aggressively, her fawn must have been in the long grass near me as she was very determined and angry, I left a little earlier than planned to allow the reunion, with the weather set fair I figured I could return next day, and did. 90% of this picture was done on location over the two days with only a little modification in the studio. 

No rain for two months was starting to show, the scene when I created this painting felt like July rather than June. The barley nearly ready to harvest and the grass on the verge browned off. Spotted flycatchers nested in the willows nearby and I could hear them calling down there. The buzzards were also very active and noisy, one continually circling me and the oak. I added it in initially but it was painted out later as I felt it too eye catching. This family of buzzards tormented my dear wife last year and forced her to change her jogging route, they can be quite territorial, but actual attacks are very rare (the Daily Mail would have you believe otherwise!) The painting was created entirely on location over two afternoons.