Don’t despise paper — it’s a central pillar of civilisation

One need not be depressed by lugubrious calculations of how many trees are chopped down to produce one edition of a popular newspaper. The timber industry is so profitable that there are probably more usable trees than ever. Still, we should not take paper for granted. Considering that it is made of old rags and pulp and whatnot, it is a daily miracle.

In the artist’s household in which I grew up, where drawing, watercolour and etching were paramount, there was never any danger of us underestimating the importance of paper. As the headmaster of an art school, my father was sent endless samples by the big art-paper manufacturers, and I learned to recognise by sight the weight, absorption power, quality and resilience of all the different grades. My father quoted Turner’s famous dictum: ‘Always respect your paper.’ I still get a thrill from contemplating a sheet of it before my pencil, crayon or brush makes its first mark. Not even a discalced Carmelite nun is more virginal than a new piece of paper on your drawing board. Your first line on it is an aesthetic crossing of the Rubicon which can never be retracted. My father would never allow a rubber except in extremis, saying: ‘Think carefully before you draw a line, then a rubber is unnecessary.’ In any case erasure never really works, unlike oil painting on canvas. In drawing and still more in watercolour, every step is irrevocable. That is what makes it so exciting and adult. In watercolour particularly you have to think hard, and ahead. It is rather like chess, where the ability to calculate 12 moves in advance is the mark of a good player. The watercolourist must put his lighter colours on first and proceed in descending order of darkness (‘like visiting hell’, as Fuseli used to say).