A day learning to paint, with Matthew Rice at Ham Court, Bampton

On a rather grey January Tuesday, I travelled to Ham Court, set in the rural and picturesque, West Oxfordshire, Cotswolds village of Bampton.

As I drove up the drive I notice the freshly pollarded willow, lining the moat that surrounds charming Ham Court. I soon found that I had arrived for a Water colour painting day, with the marvellous Matthew Rice.

The first to arrive was myself and Willow Crossley. As we walked up to the door of a light and airy studio space, with excited chatter and laughing that we both “can’t paint”, Rosa Wedding day showed off her ruby, jewel-like hips, trained to perfection over the outer wall and welcoming us inside.

I must say before I go any further, that Matthew Rice is a renowned painter, designer and illustrator. After a 30 year partnership with his ex wife Emma Bridgewater, his designs and painted works can be seen on pottery and tea towels, artworks in themselves. In fact if you happen to own any Emma Bridgewater, I can say with certainty that Matthew Rice probably painted the design for it, whether that be the hand painted whirled writing on the “Toast and Marmalade” design, or an unfurling tulip in a Venetian palette.

Matthew has written books such as “Village Buildings of Britain”, published in 1991, to his most recent book “Rome a Sketchbook”. Matthew’s curiosity and interest on architecture is apparent in his books, which are in form Sketchbooks from his travels.

One thing I note on entering Matthew’s studio is that the walls are lined with the most wonderful, framed tea towels. Some of which that catch my eye are ornate topiary gardens, others are of vegetable flatlays, one celebrates 100 years of The National Trust. I learn that Matthew’s mother was Pat Albeck, a gifted designer who’s work graced dresses, furnishings, fabrics and patterns. Her work had a longstanding association with John Lewis and The National Trust to name a few. All of the artwork on these tea towels are hers. They proudly demonstrate the artistic flair, that runs through Matthew’s blood.

Next my eye is drawn to the round, tin tea trays, all lined up and sat atop of the tongue and groove panelling, which frames the room.

One I instantly recognise celebrating the King’s recent Coronation, another with an espalier apple tree and a tray with almost, edible-looking “local seasonal and organic” vegetables, the courgette flower I can almost touch.

Then there is Matthew, I am welcomed with a hug. He comments on how the heating system that day has proved to be almost tropical, and usually the studio is chilly for Willow Crossley’s floral studio set above in the mezzanine.

I am then greeted with a delicious cup of coffee, which any of my friends know is the key to my heart. Of course it sits in an Emma Bridgewater spotted cup. I nervously tell Matthew that I am not a confident painter, or in fact any sort of painter at all and he reassures me that along as I enjoy the idea of a day painting then I will be fine. Next I tell him how Emma Bridgewater mugs have been a thing of my childhood. In fact, every time we visit my parents house, we all have our own Emma B mug (which is very useful when there are 9 of you in the house at one time- once partners are added on).

I delight in telling him that you know you have “made it” in my family, when you are given your own Emma Bridgewater mug. An initiation of such, to outsiders. It might be an animal that depicts your characteristics…mine is a red squirrel, which I still don’t quite understand, Ben’s mug is a polar bear, which makes more sense to me, and so on. But he laughs when I tell him that the mugs have outlived my ex-boyfriends.

Soon others start arriving, including some old friends and new! All ready to paint with gusto, the greeting seems to be “can you paint?” and most reply “Not at all”. But as the day unfolds it becomes apparent that this really isn’t a problem.

As cups of hot tea and coffee are passed around with hugs, I walk over to a sideboard with Matthew’s “daily January paintings”. Some with comments such as “First Snowdrops” or “cold and dry enough to get to work“. I have been following these on Matthew’s Instagram, but to see them in person is something else.

I already admire Matthew’s work, but to see his paintings, and the quality of each brush stroke, really is something to behold.

His sketchbooks lay open, and I find myself lost in the pages. Crocus which almost look transparent and ethereal, a jolly spider crab with exquisite shell detail and sprawling legs, a glass house with black painted doors and terracotta, potted houseplants. To think that these are all created with watercolours is astonishing.

Dogs are mulling around my feet, Gnipper a little Norfolk Terrier, Dragon and Merlin are whippets, all came with their masters to the painting class. It is a relaxed atmosphere, almost homely.

We then begin the class, Matthew rings an old school bell humorously and we all take our seats. Like the good obedient students that we are. The tables are laid with Narcissi, Water colour paint palettes and hand torn, quality paper. Matthew begins his lesson by showing us the principle of colour wash, and painting in straight lines. Which means the difficult art of great control of the brush. Matthew says the trick is to look at the end of the line your painting, rather than watching your brush move.

Colour wash is a technique which helps you to provide a smooth and even layer of colour, over a large area. This comes in useful when painting a background for example.

We start by mixing colours in our palette, and painting squares to help practice this technique. It is in my opinion much harder than it looks. But by my last square, I have the hang of it. Not too scratchy with the brush, keep your brush moving, make your first strokes of colour bold, use enough water but not too much. Matthew is always on hand to offer support, a helpful hint or to simply show you how to hold the brush properly in my case! I hadn’t even noticed how terribly I held it, until he said so. And my word it made a difference to my painting.

We continued this technique, practicing colour mixing and straight lines. Until trays upon trays of homemade cakes were brought in, tea pots filled and the heady scent of coffee filled the room. It was a chance to get to know the other guests, and if nothing else take in the inspiration which envelopes you in the room. Dressers upon dressers of Cups and plates with Matthew’s paintings. Apparently only a tenth of his designs are in this room.

Next, Matthew draws a building. He describes aspect, the consideration of light and shadow, and how we can incorporate this into our next painting with shading. Merlin’s chin rests faithfully upon Matthews knee as he paints. Almost instantly he has created something which conjures up gasps from around the room.

Suddenly the chatter dies down and everyone has their serious painting faces on. It is most calming, training yourself to really observe and study a photograph or object. Without hurrying. I choose a holiday house I visit in Cornwall to draw.

First you must sketch it out, and much to everyone’s surprise you don’t then “colour it in” so to speak, with paint.

You must free-paint the same drawing.

Some choose churches, others their own homes, but soon masterpieces are born. Matthew’s guiding hand and boundless knowledge to steer us in the right direction, all with a dose of wit and humour.

Lunch is announced but no one wants to get up from their paintings. But soon we are enticed by a delicious smell wafting across the courtyard. We walk over to Matthew’s historic home. I peer through the doorway onto a room lit with candles, hand embroidered table linens, and vivid plates, adorned with Matthew’s paintings of course.

Our names beautifully written in his recognisable hand.

Surely they can’t serve us up an incredible lunch as-well!

Oh yes they can. Our menus were decided before hand but catered for many a palette or dietary need.

I clasp a set of vintage cutlery (food always tastes better with the right cutlery) and tuck into my starter, cured and torched Salmon, Winter radish and Beetroot salad. I could lick the plate clean. I am sat with Matilda Goad, Butter Wakefield, Paula Sutton, Matthew himself, Jess Wheeler, Shane Connolly and Willow Crossley.

It was marvellous to have conversation with like minded people, whilst devouring a very decent lunch, cooked by Dave Cross, Matthew’s daughter, Lil’s, partner. Who also does the cooking for Fools Delight Circus.

I cannot fault it. Our plates are all scraped clean, and soon the main course. Pork fillet (which melted in my mouth) pumpkin seed crumb, celeriac puree, golden raisin, kale shoots and cider jus. Yes it was just as delicious as it sounds. Everyone was chattering away, the room vibrating with laughter. The atmosphere couldn’t have been jollier. It was actually a great chance to delve into the world of other creatives, there were so many there that I admire and aspire to. Garden designers, top florists, writers, artists interior designers. Just what I needed to cheer up my January.

Pudding is a maple syrup Panna cotta with popcorn which had the most gorgeous wobble.

There is a plethora of outdoor space, where I can imagine in Summer, alfresco coffees and lunches a plenty!

After lunch we pootle back over to the studio.

I think Matthew must have sneaked in and elevated my painting, as it looks better than when I had left for lunch.

Matthew speaks to us about drawing, and we then have a go at painting still life objects he has collected for us sitting atop of the piano.

I choose a pot of Narcissus bulbocodium “Julia Jane” grown by the delightful, Daisy. Matthew’s gardener but now managing his events. She is also close to hand, and her joy for her work is radiant.

Before I know it, the time to say our tearful goodbyes had come!

I leave with a bag, a signed copy of Matthew’s lovely new book “Rome, a Sketchbook“ with my name drawn inside by him, a new paint brush, and sketchbook, a little mug adorned with Roses and a deliciously scented, Willow Crossley candle.

I gather up my paintings too of course, and walk away feeling like I could paint.

Suddenly my rather dull and grey January seems vivid. I start noticing the yellow catkins on my drive home and make a promise to myself to have a go at painting them. I dust off my Nanna’s old water colour set, I used to paint birds with them, with her as a small child. And away I go.

Thank you Matthew, Daisy, Beth, Phineas, Jackie, Lil and David for the most magical of days. I am eager for the weekend to come, so that I may take my sketchbook out with me and paint. I can’t promise they will be anything like Matthews, but the belief that you actually can do it. Whatever your ability, and to have fun doing so, is enough for me.