My painting “Breede River Valley” had to be given an intentionally generic title as opposed to being named after a particular farm, town, or place.
Why?
Because it’s portraying the Breede River Valley as a whole, rather than any one particular place or scene. It’s about the feel of this aspect of our landscape. It’s not a slavish copy of any one single photo.
That said, this depiction would be closer to Worcester than somewhere further downriver in the valley.
As always, it’s more of a composite — a combination, if you will, of a number of different photos. In this case, the emphasis is on Breede River Valley objects and artefacts, and of course the scenery, mountains, and mood of the valley. The various elements have been composited together to create an imaginary, yet very realistic-looking scene. A scene that doesn’t actually exist, but hopefully captures the essence of the region, rather than any one specific spot.
I’ll say it again — as I’ve said so often before, and dare I say will likely say again in the foreseeable future: “I don’t want to be a walking camera — I want to be a walking artist.”
And speaking of being a “walking artist,” I always make the most of every opportunity to… dare I say… drive! Wherever that may take me: in the Western Cape Winelands, or in our far-away, ever-so-thirsty Karoo, or even in the majestic mountain ranges of Lesotho or KwaZulu-Natal’s incredible Drakensberg.
I drive! As many thousands of kilometres as I can — through remote country towns, far-away villages, endless landscapes, and rugged mountain ranges. But, and this is important, I don’t just stoically drive. I also strategically stop. Get out of the car — and walk. Especially out there in the remote Karoo.
I walk — in and amongst thorny fynbos and sun-dried Karoo scrub, alongside falling-down farm fences, and of course through the many rickety Karoo cattle gates.
I love the gates! And the long roads winding their lonely ways through those gates into hazy distances.
I walk along bone-dry riverbeds, parched and thirsty. Over piping-hot riverside sandbanks waiting, longing — with bated breath — for the next rain season.
And dare I say… most uncomfortably of all… I walk in and amongst seething nests of Karoo balbyter ants.
Seriously! Not every time, but I’ve done that — on more than one occasion. And could it be that they’re called balbyter ants because they live up to their name? They bite! Making an absolute meal of me — all in the interests of course, of getting the right angle for the perfect shot of a distant farmstead or mountain range.
But be that as it may though… it’s all so worth it, because I want to feel it before I paint it.
But I digress. This painting, “Breede River Valley,” is not that. It’s not my more familiar far-away, middle-of-the-Karoo genre. It’s portraying a more verdant part of our sunny South African landscape which I love just as much. It’s a part of the Breede River Valley — but more towards the Worcester side.
The Worcester–Robertson basin is a portion of the Breede River Valley that lies between the Hex River Mountains to the north of Worcester and the Langeberg range to the south, in the Robertson region. Its typically Mediterranean climate makes it one of the premier regions of our world-famous Western Cape wine-producing industry.
Make sure to take in some of the superb wine-tasting options available in the valley if you’re ever passing through.
Worcester, although not officially part of the Little Karoo, is often considered to be the gateway to the Little Karoo. Personally though, I think Montagu — about 65 kilometres further along the R62 through Robertson, past Ashton, and then on through the stunning rock formations of the Kogmanskloof Pass — could more appropriately be counted as the gateway. Especially in light of the ‘poort’ or gap, that the road winds through before reaching Montagu. And of course also the distinctive change in the nature and composition of the vegetation just before the pass on the Ashton side, and then after the pass on the Montagu side.
Approaching the Kogmanskloof Pass from the Robertson/Ashton side, and then on through to Montagu, the verdant greens of the Western Cape Winelands give way—ever so subtly—to the dry umbers and duns of the Little Karoo. So for me, this part of the Breede River Valley should be the gateway—with a bit of both: a blend of the lush greens of the winelands and the crackling dry tones of Little Karoo fynbos. And that’s why I love it so much!