That time of year

 

 

The month of May has come to a close, and summertime fun is just around the corner.  In fact, it seems like there's been non-stop fun lately so it's time to settle down and bring to conclusion the "East Side Storeys" series.

 

For the series finale, I'd planned to place figures on a balcony, to be viewed from a lower vantage point. Over months, I'd spotted some lovely old homes that offered different possibilities.

 

 

 

 

 

During the first COVID year, the life drawing studio I attended moved its sessions on-line. Sometimes the facilitator would set up a "mole cam" to capture views that would be impossible to get in person.  I'd always wanted to do something with this pose in particular.

 

Eventually, I chose one of the first houses that had suggested the balcony idea to me.

 

Uh-oh.  When I went back to get a better photo, I was shocked to find a City signboard indicating the house is slated for demolition and replacement.

 

 

And why should I be shocked?  It's the Vancouver story these days.  At least this old house will be replaced, simply, with a somewhat larger new house – not a residential tower from 8 to 44 storeys.  But let's not go there.

 

Every painting in this series quickly took an unexpected turn and went somewhere I hadn't planned.  All right, then.  I gave up on the balcony idea and reverted to one of the oldest, most intriguing houses I've come across.

 

Built in 1906 (thank you, BC Assessment records), it was likely a rooming house for workers contributing to the early 20^th century development and population boom that hit about 1910.   

 

Oh, I do love those bay windows!  Musing on who might have looked out those windows in days gone by, I decided to tap into the rooming house vibe.  Dreamily and surrealistically, the images unfolded – not to "haunted house" standards, but yes, with a little air of mystery.

 

A rooming house of the early 1900s would have had a landlady – a kindly one, let's hope, and she began to show herself behind the curtain.

 

Here, in the final version, she's likely checking to see how many of her boarders have arrived home from work.  Is it time to heat up the chicken stew?   A couple of them are already hanging out, waiting for supper at "The House at the Bottom of the Hill" (copyright 2025 – East Side Storeys Series).

 

I walked by there again today, hoping for a photo to capture the rather steep slope of the hill – to no avail, with the trees in full leaf. 

 

 

More usefully, for the end of this series, I spotted these neighbouring houses, just two blocks away:-- On the right, one of the typical houses of this part of the city.  On the left, under construction, one of the new-style 21^st century models.  Someone else will have to tell that story some day.

 

 

Step right up -- if you can

 

At the outset, I had great plans for my "East Side Storeys" series.  I'd have my preferred subjects – people – interact with features of actual old houses on my side of town.  First, a house with enchanting rooflines;  then, a house with beautiful stained-glass windows; then, an irresistible bay window: and mostly recently, a unique front porch. 

 

Well, if you haven't lost the plot – and it's been easy enough to do – you'll know that each East Side street I've travelled has had a bump in the road.  Do I dare try again, aiming for a house with lovely front steps occupied by step-sitters?  The gorgeous title photo of a classy brownstone in Upper Manhattan urged me to rise to the challenge – thank you, Friend A!

 

Here's the house that started my original train of thought:

 

When I cruised back one day for a better photo, I wondered if its next-door neighbour might offer more possibilities.

 

If you've noticed a similarity in colours with previous houses in this series, it's probably due to the "True Colours" program – a catalog of heritage-inspired housepaint colours derived from the colours of actual old paint chips.

 

Somehow, these steps just didn't work with my would-be sitters and standers.  And meanwhile, I'd again walked in a different direction and paused at this charmer with its wrap-around veranda.  I was undeterred by the prominent tree in front.  Hadn't we gleefully learned of "artistic license" in Grade 7 art class?

 

Yes – let's try this one.  Here's the view I'll work with as I try to get both those side porches.

 

From this, I did a rough pencil drawing to scale, to be copied with a pastel stick onto a green painted underlayer.

 

I played around with this for several mornings' studio sessions.  WHY hadn't I remembered the basic East Side lesson – that unless I worked on a very large canvas, I was unlikely to be able to combine plausible people with plausible housefronts.  The step-sitters just wouldn't work!

 

Then, to the rescue -- A small figure I've had on my bulletin board for years.

 

Scaled up, she's going to help me get back to basics.

 

As we take this house "down to the studs" as they say, I'm going to begin again, working from the blueprint.

 

Paintbrush in hand, this gal works fast – choosing to start with that bay window that I couldn't resist.

And here's the final:  "Working from the Blueprint" – East Side Storeys series, copyright 2025.

 

Just coincidentally, I walked into my Friend L's gallery (hers by virtue of several decades of expert volunteer labour) to find its current exhibit featuring an artist who works large-scale – with the architecture of vintage houses!  How about that?!?

 

And meanwhile, we've all had the pleasure of Friend A's photographs – as beautifully composed as those of the plats du jour at her boutique restaurant.  She comments, by the way, that the very idea of prohibiting step-sitting is "very un-New York."