Its full and awful grandeur

"Its full and awful grandeur" was how Charles Dickens described the ruins of the Roman Forum. It would have looked different in his day, with the arch of Septimius Severus and Column of Phocas (left) half buried, and the Basilica Julia (foreground ruins) entirely underground. The church of Luca and Martina would have looked the same, and ditto the Curia Julia (right), except for its window arrangement.

This picture is in a group show at the Westland Gallery opening this Wednesday. 

Santa Maria della Salute

Fortezza da Basso

In the centre of the city of Florence broods a huge and uninviting fortress. It was built as part of the city walls, but like many urban fortifications it was designed as much to oppress the citizens as oppose the foes. Duke Cosimo didn't trust his people - they had exiled his family more than once in the past - and wanted to make sure his army was always on hand.

SaveSave

Baptistery of Florence

A quick watercolour executed on my way home through the crepuscular streets of Florence.

The Ponte Vecchio on a rainy day

The view out the window of the artist's studio on via Nazionale in Florence, Italy, once maintained by the Ontario College of Art and Design.

Piazza Santa Croce on a clear day

Studio model with mirror

Even when the model strikes a good pose, you don't always get a good angle. I diverted myself with the drapery, and my colleague in the mirror.

Montrichard

A view of Montrichard, in the Tourraine, France, painted from the far side of the river. It was a nice day, and I was taking a break from watching the local kennel club's agility trials.

Behind the houses is the church of Saint Croix, a largely romanesque structure, although the tower is gothic. I made an etching of its facade, which you can see here. Above it, the fortified keep of the castle built by the irrepressible Foulques Nerra, the Black Falcon, whose wars vexed the region in the 11th century.

Fonte Nuova d'Ovile, Siena.

This was, I think, the first picture I made in Siena, Italy. I cycled from Florence - not a short ride - and into the hilltop city. My route to the city centre took me past the Fonte Nuova - that's the new fountain, of course, built as recently as the late 13th century by a pair of architects with the portentous names of Carmaino di Crescentino and Sozzo di Rustichino.

Of course I had to stop and get out the watercolours. I used the fountain's water for my brushes.

SaveSave

Moored boats in Cannaregio

SaveSave

the tower

The Campanile at San Barnabas in Venice, on a crisp day in June.

Reading at home

I painted this watercolour from life in about an hour and a half. Not long enough, as you can see.

Nick is it

An old picture, made from life with a china marker and watercolours.

Torre del Gallo

The Torre del Gallo broods over the hills to the south of Florence. Despite its impressive medieval ambience, it is a modern invention - although there was a castle on the hilltop, that in the 13th century controlled the road to Impruneta. But the tower was built around 1905, and has been through some vicissitudes since. In WWII, it was briefly a prison camp.

I made this watercolour on site, in early May.

The path in the woods

A watercolour sketch of the woods adjacent to San Miniato, just south of Florence.

long day

I made a very quick drawing of Tarragon - in a somnolent posture - with a china marker, and then added watercolour later.

Tuscan hillside

One of many watercolours painted while wandering in the hills north of Florence. The row of trees leading up the hill to the right shroud the path to a small renaissance church, in whose shadow I sat while I painted. It overlooks the small village of Ponte a Mensola, named for a stream you cannot see amid the trees in the picture.

It was a sunny day in May, perfect for watercolours. Here's another one I did from almost the same vantage point, but looking north rather than east.

In the bay

This isn't exactly a holiday-themed image, but I made the painting as a small Christmas gift a few years ago, so I thought I'd post it today.

Antonia

Antonia posed in the studio I shared with some other students in Florence. The windows faced south, and the hot Italian sun provided a nice raking light that threw her body into sharp relief. The painting took about an hour - you can see that I began with a pencil sketch.

The odd shape to the right is part of a plastic lawn chair.