J.M.W. Turner, one of the most celebrated watercolourists of all time, was known for his innovative and often secretive techniques that allowed him to achieve breathtaking effects of light, atmosphere, and emotion in his works. While he didn’t document his methods explicitly—perhaps intentionally keeping them mysterious—art historians and conservators have pieced together some of his “secret” watercolour techniques through close study of his paintings and surviving materials. Here are some key insights into Turner’s approach:
Wet-in-Wet Mastery: Turner frequently used a wet-in-wet technique, where he applied wet paint onto an already damp paper surface. This allowed colors to bleed and blend naturally, creating soft, atmospheric effects like misty skies or glowing horizons. He controlled the unpredictability by tilting the paper or using a sponge to guide the flow.
Scratching and Scraping: To depict texture or light, Turner scratched or scraped the paper while the paint was still wet, using tools like the end of a brush, a fingernail, or even a razor blade. This technique is evident in works like The Blue Rigi (1842), where highlights on water or mountains shimmer through removed pigment.
Layered Washes with Deliberate Lifting: He built depth by layering transparent washes, but he’d also lift color off with a damp brush or cloth before it fully dried. This created luminous effects, as seen in his glowing sunsets, where the paper’s whiteness peeked through to suggest light without using opaque white paint.
The Blue Rigi. J.M.W. Turner. 1842
Use of Body Color (Gouache): While purists favored transparent watercolour, Turner wasn’t afraid to mix in opaque pigments (body color, like gouache) for highlights or to correct mistakes. He applied it sparingly—often with his fingers or a dry brush—to add brilliance, such as the whitecaps on waves or glints of sunlight.
Experimental Paper Choices: Turner didn’t stick to one type of paper. He used everything from cheap sketching paper to thicker, textured sheets, depending on the effect he wanted. He sometimes soaked and stretched paper unevenly to let it buckle, encouraging paint to pool in unexpected ways for dramatic contrasts.
Sponging and Blotting: He employed sponges, rags, or even bread crumbs to dab at wet paint, softening edges or creating stippled textures. This technique helped him mimic natural phenomena like clouds or foliage, giving his works an organic spontaneity.
Salt and Resist Techniques: Some scholars suggest Turner sprinkled salt onto wet washes to create speckled patterns (as salt absorbs moisture and pigment), or used wax or gum arabic as a resist to preserve white areas. These methods added subtle complexity to his landscapes, though he kept such tricks subtle enough to avoid detection.
Finger Painting: Turner often bypassed brushes entirely, smearing paint with his fingers or palms to blend colors directly on the paper. This hands-on approach gave his works an immediacy and energy, particularly in stormy seascapes or turbulent skies.
Color Staining and Bleeding: He’d apply bold, saturated colors—like Prussian blue or gamboge yellow—and let them bleed into adjacent areas, sometimes intentionally over-saturating the paper. This technique, risky due to potential buckling, allowed him to capture the vibrancy of light and shadow in ways others couldn’t replicate.
Private Sketchbook Experiments: Many of Turner’s most radical techniques emerged in his pocket-sized sketchbooks, which he kept private during his lifetime. These contained loose, experimental studies—like splashes of color or abstract washes—that he later refined into finished works, suggesting he used them as a testing ground for ideas.
Turner’s secrecy wasn’t just about technique but also philosophy: he believed art should evoke feeling over formula. His contemporaries marveled at his results but struggled to mimic them, partly because he worked quickly and instinctively, often outdoors or in the moment. After his death in 1851, the discovery of over 19,000 sketches and watercolours in his estate revealed the extent of his experimentation—yet even then, no single “recipe” emerged. His genius lay in adapting these methods fluidly, keeping his process as dynamic as the scenes he painted.