Paseo de los Tristes

One of the things I love about Granada is that it's possible to sketch outside all year, especially if you're selective about what time of day you head out. But this month is the first time that I've been bold enough to go urban sketching in winter.

I put on all the layers, and by the time I've walked from the bus stop to our meeting point in Plaza de Santa Ana I'm feeling hot and have to unzip my jacket. Despite it being 6 degrees, it's a beautiful day with a cobalt-blue sky and no breeze.

I catch up with a friend in Spanish while we walk up to:

“... the melancholy Paseo de los Tristes, the most romantic place in Granada, which gives an impression of incomparable beauty, deep poetic fragrance and vigorous dramatic force... Above the cármenes and luxuriant woods bordering the Colina Roja and over the tops of the centenarian trees growing there, the reddish towers of the Alhambra rise soaring to the sky and overwhelm us with their imposing mass." (Seco de Lucena Paredes, 1974, p. 28)

I sit in front of the promenade's fountain constructed in 1609 – the only 17th-century fountain still in its original location in the city. To avoid the sun shining directly into my eyes, I position myself in the shade of a large cypress tree. It allows me to focus on the fountain, while also capturing the beauty of the forest and the Alhambra in the background.

Normally the biggest challenge for urban sketching in Granada is painting quickly enough in the dry heat, but the humidity today is making the paint interact differently with the paper. I start painting the background wet-on-wet, and my page then stays damp for the entire session. I lose myself in the flow of sketching and admiring my surroundings. I enjoy the challenge of dropping in definition to the fountain while the base layer is still wet – it helps me be bolder and I'm happy with how it turns out.

As I'm packing up to head to lunch, I realise my hands have started going numb from the cold. I'm feeling chilly and wonder if my new winter jacket isn't as warm as I thought it was, when I realise that I've been sketching with it undone the whole time. My sketch is still wet, so I walk back to the centre with my sketchbook open, weaving around the tourists heading for the local market.

I would have liked to add some darker values to the background with another layer of paint, but I let the sketch be what it is – an impression of a particular moment. One thing I learned early on in my urban sketching practice is that I'm not trying to recreate the art I would make at home at my desk, and so I have a rule that I don't touch a plein air sketch once the session finishes.

Sometimes real world limitations, like changes in the weather, help me take creative risks I wouldn't have otherwise. I've discovered so many elements of my personal style through this practice, and it's what keeps me coming back to sketch outside again and again.

Reference List

Seco de Lucena Paredes, L. (1974) El Albayzin. Leon, Spain: Editorial Everest.

Sketches from Granada celebrates every-day moments of connection with strangers, friends and ourselves. I know how easy it is not to be present in your own life, and I hope these sketches inspire you to seek out those moments that are worth savouring. 

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