September 2022

Watercolor painting in Ireland with Wilhelm Fikisz

I know Ireland from various business trips to Dublin and Limerick. You fly there, sit in meetings, have dinner, maybe even get crowned Queen one evening at Bunratty Castle, and then fly back home.

However, really engaging with Ireland and painting the country intensively is new territory for me, and I'm really looking forward to it.

From Zurich, the five of us fly to Dublin with Willi and from there travel south in our small bus to Castlemaine, where we are welcomed by our charming hostess Bernadette at the cozy Murray's Mountain View Bed & Breakfast. We enjoy a delicious dinner at the "Anvil" and, eagerly anticipating our first day of painting, sleep wonderfully.

After a hearty Irish breakfast, we set off for our first location. We take the ferry to Valentia Island and drive from Knightstown to the lighthouse. Wind-blown trees in the churchyard, meter-high fuchsias along the roadside, and above us a green tunnel of foliage through which we grope our way. The first glimpse of the location is impressive. Rugged rock slabs lead to the white lighthouse, which shines in the dazzling sunlight against a green backdrop.

We sit in the grass, spread out our painting materials, and let Willi introduce us to the motif. We don't just see the motif, we also feel it. The wind is blowing hard. The rocks leading to the climax stretch out before us like the ribs of a famous Swiss chocolate.

It's fun to paint here, and it feels precious to give the whole day to the emerging picture.

Extremely satisfied, we set off in the late afternoon and sat on the beach in Waterville with a well-deserved Aperol Spritz before taking a sneak peek at our next subject.

Ladies' View in Killarney National Park. It stretches out before us in the warm evening light. Amazing!

Dinner at the pub in Killarney with Guinness and fish & chips or a Daily Roast with a delicious gravy. We're feeling great all around. Sláinte!

Ladies' View, however, awaits us somewhat disgruntled the next morning: it's cool and windy. What would Queen Victoria's ladies-in-waiting have said about this weather? The lovely atmosphere of the previous day is gone. But we are well prepared. Equipped with thick jackets and windproof trousers, we devote ourselves to our subject. As the day progresses, the sun begins to warm our backs and is also noticeable in the light of our paintings. Willi guides us sensitively and, as always, paints along with us. For me, one of the many highlights of his painting trips.

It's amazing how the motif emerges before our eyes in each person's own handwriting.

After Lighthouse and Ladies' View, on the third day, strengthened by Bernadette's extensive breakfast ("Are you sure you only want a small portion?"), we head to the harbor in Dingle.

The weather is wonderful. We line up on the quay like swimmers on the fishing nets behind us, painting a dialogue between a red and a blue boat bobbing lazily in the harbor in front of us. Red crates full of lobsters are a testament to a good catch. Nearby, "Juice for Thought" offers not only smoothies but also the best coffee and sandwiches for our lunch break, and the shops on Strand Street are a great place to relax after painting.

Day four of our journey takes us to the west coast of Ireland. Clare, here we come! The karst landscape of Burren National Park frames green meadows and small villages, sheep and cattle everywhere, low walls and turrets, whitewashed cottages, and the occasional crumbling stonework. Yellow-green, golden-green, May green, emerald green, blue-green, olive green—they all somehow combine to create "Irish green."

It would be a wonderful motif, but we have another one in mind. The breathtaking Cliffs of Moher; they rise almost vertically to a height of over 200 meters. We know our painting spot is off the beaten track, but Willi isn't going to tell us where. We find a friendly farmer who lets us park the car with him the next day and head for our new B&B.

Have you ever lived in a house whose ancient walls not only accommodate guests, but also a spring? No? I haven't either, until now. But now I do. In "The Waters," the sweetest spring water practically flows directly into our mouths. An almost spiritual place with a "Holy Well."

It's already the second-to-last evening, but we're so excited about the Cliffs that we don't feel any sadness. We eat in Doolin and watch the sunset on the beach. Wonderful silence.

The next morning, I'm tingling with excitement. We hike along the path to the cliffs with our painting supplies. It takes a while. For now, all we see are meadows and pastures and the Atlantic. Suddenly, however, the path ends on a green plateau, and to our left stretches a whole chain of steep cliffs with a small rocky outcrop at the front. Our motif!

It's windless. There's not a cloud in the sky. It's warm.

It's breathtaking.

We're enjoying this last day of painting to the fullest. The brush moves particularly joyfully across the page today. The sun slowly moves from the land over the cliffs to the sea, creating ever-new hues. And more and more white spreads across the rocks—and across our paintings.

It is a happy day of painting.

Over dinner, we talk about how such a trip passes simultaneously quickly and slowly. So many impressions that you feel like you've been on the road for weeks. So much variety that time flies.

Go raibh maith agat – Thank you, dear Willi!

Author: Stephanie Hartstang, September 2022