Richard Bell's nature sketchbook since 1998
This marginal illustration for one of my Dalesman diaries isn’t meant to be a trail map but you couldn’t go far wrong in finding your way to Danes Dyke Nature Reserve than starting at the harbour and keeping the sea on your right. Look forward to walking it again some time. And, when they come out of lockdown, there’s always the option of catching the Land Train at Sewerby Hall to get back to the harbour in time for fish and chips.
It’s one of those dimly remembered but vivid movie scenes. Sometime back around 1958, so perhaps when I was seven years old, I caught the last few minutes of a film on our black and white Bush 24-inch 405 line television. It must have made quite an impression on me but how accurate are my memories from 60 years ago.
I never knew the name of the film but scanning today’s listing for the Talking Pictures channel I’m sure that No Room at the Inn, 1948, about evacuees billeted with the ‘savagely nasty’ Mrs Voray. That’s got to be the one.
I’ve drawn my memories of the scene so that I can compare them with the actual film.
Still on the ‘just keep drawing’ prompt from Mattias Adolfsson’s The Art of Sketching course, I was beginning to run out of abstract shapes as a starting point for my drawings. The abstract curves that I started off with suggested a roof or a tent and by the time I drew in the stone steps and circular base I found myself thinking about a stage set; one with a revolving stage.
For the characters that might inhabit this desert base, I was thinking of an opera, perhaps a Philip Glass production, but inevitably in setting it in the 1930s or 40s I’ve ended up with Indiana Jones stereotypes. Although the zookeeper with the camel, if drawn in Hergé’s ligne claire style, could have a walk-on role in a Tintin adventure.
An Elephant Seal of Torquay, was desperate to swim in the sea : But he couldn't reach, the far end of the beach, 'cos the crowds had invaded Torquay.
Edward Lear seems to be contagious. A friend of mine composed three limericks for the parish magazine and now she finds she can’t help slipping into limerick mode.
My elephant seal offering was inspired by a page of Edward Lear-style punning cartoons posted by ‘have_pen_will_draw’, who like me is tackling Mattias Adolfsson’s The Art of Sketching course. His other punning creations included ‘tiger shark’, ‘bull frog’ and ‘horse fly’.
I’m lucky enough to have a copy of Edward Lear’s Book of Nonsense, which helpfully has every verso page left blank, so that I could slot in my cartoon in Photoshop. I’m particularly pleased that I was able to almost match Lear’s choice of typeface by using the typeface Didot.
If only I could match the inky spontaneity of Lear’s drawings!
If you’d been standing on Flamborough Head 8,000 years ago, as early man began to move back into Britain, you’d be looking out over Doggerland, a landscape of woodland, marsh, rivers and lakes.
In the nature diary that I’m writing for September’s The Dalesman, I’m delving into prehistory but thought that I’d pop in one of my cartoons to lighten the mix a bit. But so as not to leave you in suspense, you’ll be pleased to hear that 8,000 years later we’ve found that missing hammerstone.
Another ‘start with a shape’ drawing: this time it was a star. It suggests that after 100 days of lockdown I’m missing browsing, drinking lattes and visiting historic towns. Wakefield had its own Shambles and a cluster of half-timbered buildings which survived wartime bombing but which were swept away in the 1960s to provides space for new modern concrete and brick shops.
Apologies that there’s too much zooming in and out in this little iMovie clip. I thought that the best thing to do was to dive in and do something but having re-familiarised myself with the set-up, I can now try something more calm and considered.
Another homemade birthday card, this time in honour of our nephew Andrew’s profession – no he’s not a professional gangster, but he trained as an engineer so in the distant pre-CAD days he must have experienced the perils of preparing a technical drawing.
It’s been a busy week in the homemade card factory. Here’s one for my brother-in-law and aviation enthusiast Dave’s birthday today. It’s as near as I’m ever going to get to hard-hitting satire. I’ll have to resign myself to never making it into Private Eye.
The white cliffs of Flamborough Head aren’t white all the way to the top. As I learnt on a field trip led by Richard Myerscough, they’re covered by boulder clay – the Skipsea Till – left by the last glaciation to reach Yorkshire.
From Sewerby south through Holderness all the way to Hessle near Hull, the cliff is completely buried by the Ice Age deposits. Not far from Sewerby Steps you can still find the remnants of a raised beach which dates from the last interglacial. The sea level was a metre higher than its present level.
Fragments of bone found amongst the shingle of this ancient beach include straight-tusked elephant, bison, hippopotamus and narrow-lipped rhinoceros.
When you’re starting with a geometrical shape – in this case a hexagon – and your mind goes blank about what to make it into, the traditional robot is a useful character to turn to. My comic in my primary school days was Eagle, which featured Frank Hampson’s Dan Dare, Pilot of the Future on its cover, so I like the style of 1950s science fiction where the rockets, robots and space stations look like a plausible extension of the technology of the period. While drawing the telescreen, I thought about our 405-line black-and-white television and our record player – similar to the classic Dansette – covered in wine-red and cream leatherette.