The green on that bark is very difficult to simulate. The trick is that it needs a touch of blue, as well as the rest of the spectrum in careful measures.
When I was at Art School, I had an uncle who was the head of Painting Restoration in what was then called, The Ministry of Works. He travelled all over the country, restoring paintings of national importance. I think he also handled the Queen's as well as other private collections.
He must have been quite good at his job, because a private collector once brought him a painting to work on, and after he had finished he made an identical copy of it. When the collector arrived at his house in Wandsworth to pick up the picture, my uncle showed him the copy and asked what he thought of the restoration. The man said he had done a very good job and prepared to leave, then my uncle pulled out the original and asked him to take the real one with him. he could not decide, and probably had a nagging feeling whenever he looked at it again.
His hallmark on every job was to leave a little bee painted in a discreet but meaningful place - I know of one on a cherub's arse on a ceiling somewhere, so keep your eyes out next time you are in Hampton Court.
My uncle worked with a small team which travelled the country between country house and palace, staying in hotels up and down Britain. My sister briefly worked for him until he got drunk and tried to shag her late one night in her room. He was the classic, lecherous old uncle.
When I was about to (ignominiously) leave college, he offered me a job as his assistant and trainee. The trouble is that I had spent the previous three years concentrating on sculpture, so I turned it down.
I probably would have been his successor and now a rather grand personage who gives lectures on TV if I had taken him up on the offer. Hey ho...
Coulda, woulda, shoulda...you can't do it all. At least not at the same time.
ReplyDeleteGreat patina on the tree. I wonder if two saplings began life side by side, then parted company several feet up.
I coulda, woulda, shoulda have been a contender.
DeleteSimon F used to paint white Poodles into his clouds.
ReplyDeleteWhat a waste of good opportunities. You can never have enough poodles I always say.
DeleteOh, I misread- he DID paint poodles. Good.
DeleteThat hole looks like a vagina with a tree trunk painted round it.
ReplyDeleteI could have been Mother Teresa.
DeleteYou're really bored right now, aren't you?
DeleteI wasn't bored once but I was later.
DeleteNo, you were pissed all along, despite what you said.
DeleteWhy lie to your friends?
DeleteI dont drink.
DeleteI have never been a liar and I am not one now. Please dont say that to me.
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DeleteI apologise.
Deletefor yesterday.
DeleteDon't worry about that. No need to apologise. Sorry I accused you of lying.
DeleteHaving never met you I always think of you as a rather Grand Personage anyhow.
ReplyDeleteMe too.
DeleteWait, no hashtag I hope...
DeleteNo hashtag--I was completely sincere.
DeleteLechery aside, your uncle sounds to have lived a rather interesting life!
ReplyDeleteHis homosexual son died an alcoholic, ripped-off by so-called lovers. They took everything from him and he died in poverty quite recently. There is a very dark side to gay London.
DeleteTom, when I think about very good offers of buying flats in Berlin (and one in Munich) that I could have bought, but husband didn't join in: I could go crazy about lost opportunities - but honestly: I will not set my mind on that, I will not waste my energy on something that is over. (And there is more than a few flats "over"). Vorbei. No use to cry about spilt milk.
ReplyDeleteÄh--- spilled it should be....
DeleteIt can be spilt or spilled.
DeleteThank you - I looked it up - and thus learned something new.
Delete