rosiluv resolves water scarcity and irrigation challenges
In the realm of sustainable design, Rosiluv is a giant steel funnel that attaches onto water tanks to harvest rainfall with precision and ease. Realized by designers Laurent Lebot and Victor Massip of French studio FALTAZI, this rainwater collector offers a practical solution to water scarcity and irrigation challenges, presenting an alternative that is as environmentally conscious as it is efficient. This innovative system can be integrated with IBC 1000L water tanks, eliminating the need for proximity to a roof for efficient water collection.
With versatile applicability, Rosiluv caters to a wide range of needs, offering users an economical solution to nurture a vegetable garden, cultivate allotments, maintain shared community gardens, or even manage educational school grounds. It also finds utility in urban wasteland repurposing and eco-pasturing, offering a simple and eco-friendly solution for access to water.
Rosiluv rainwater collector at the Maximilien Park Farm in Brussels | all images courtesy of FALTAZI
FALTAZI’s design centers on longevity and durability, with the cover’s structure constructed from galvanized steel spanning 4.3 square meters. Rosiluv ensures easy access to rainwater for a range of watering needs, reducing the user’s dependence on municipal water supplies and leading to noticeable cost savings. Beyond water collection, the cover serves as a shelter to securely store gardening tools. Further, it enhances the lifespan of its corresponding water tank by providing protection from UV rays.
The cover can be installed with ease and secured to the top of a water tank using just four points. The 4.3 square meter rainwater collection surface area can also be customized to different heights and configurations by placing the system on gabions, thanks to its modular design consisting of twelve assembly parts. Additionally, water collection can be maximized by connecting multiple water tanks together at once.
installation at Allaire in Brittany
the water tanks can easily be filled without assistance, even in the middle of a field
Once inside, you are embraced by a soothing combination of warm, mellow lighting and a monochromatic colour palette of beige tones that instantly makes you feel relaxed. Throughout the venue, circular openings that echo the façade’s design are harmoniously juxtaposed with angular shapes imbuing the spaces with a dynamic sense of vitality, as does a series of unique elements that stand out against the otherwise austere, minimalist setting. Case in point, the monumental light installation that dominates the atrium located in the centre of the facility. Clad in soft-to-the-touch Japanese washi paper, the glowing, two-storey-tall, prismatic “lantern” changes from warmer to cooler tones “as if breathing”, inviting people sit or lie down, close their eyes, and fully experience its healing effects.
Other elements that subtly subvert the minimalist aura include a large, moss-covered installation encircled by a minimal product display that invites guests not only to touch the mossy mass but to also smell it, a sculptural reception desk that looks like a rock formation, a curvaceous, three-dimensional mirror accompanied by the sound of flowing water, and a gong-like instrument inspired by Ōryōki, a type of nested bowls used by Buddhist monks as a meditative form of eating.
Over a decade ago, Tamara Honey founded her eponymous interiors firm, House of Honey, a female collective of interior designers who want to create meaningful experiences through their work. Currently, she collaborates with the collective on private residential properties, restaurants, and hotels, with design studios in both Montecito and Pasadena, California.
A self-described maximalist, Tamara truly excels at creating bespoke environments that reflect her clients and their unique surroundings. “I have been collecting vintage furniture, lighting, and art for over a decade, and sold on 1st dibs for many years. I love the mix of old and new for all of our interiors,” she added. Through Tamara’s projects, she celebrates life out loud by creating moments of escape through cultivation and curation. What remains is a sense of joy, confidence, and a “well-textured life.”
Flowers are an all-day favorite! Every great story begins with sensory experience. We are developing two interior scents that tap into our love for the two places where our design studios are located. Ortega is born out of the desire to recall and capture driving the winding tree-lined ridge in Montecito. Bellefontaine is inspired by the rose-lined streets and lush gardens of Pasadena.
Our obsession with the disco ball as a symbol of freedom and fun is real. The spaces we design inspire connection and living life out loud. Home should be a place where you laugh, love, dance, and play. We definitely follow the call of the disco ball at House of Honey!
Montecito, where I have both a house and a design studio, holds a special place in my heart. When I first visited, it reminded me of my childhood growing up in Halifax, Canada. My home there is placed in a forest setting, but minutes from the beach. It’s my very happy place!
Infusing color into interiors is instinctual for me, and I never shy away from it. I think that our design is courageous and narrative-shifting as a result. We are committed to delighting and surprising our clients through color choices, but most importantly, encouraging them to live boldly with a boundless enjoyment of the every day.
At an early age, I developed a love of vintage cars (my obsession grew to include vintage furniture and art, but that’s another story!). I still love to stroll around a vintage car show, and love riding in a convertible with a sense of freedom and abandon.
Work by House of Honey:
Photo: Manolo Langis
Photo: Victoria Pearson
Photo: Victoria Pearson
Photo: Jason Rick
Kelly Beall is Director of Branded Content at Design Milk. The Pittsburgh-based writer and designer has had a deep love of art and design for as long as she can remember, from Fashion Plates to MoMA and far beyond. When not searching out the visual arts, she's likely sharing her favorite finds with others. Kelly can also be found tracking down new music, teaching herself to play the ukulele, or on the couch with her three pets – Bebe, Rainey, and Remy. Find her @designcrush on social.
A body convulses on a table, with broken bones poking from a stump of torn flesh below the knee, one arm gruesomely peppered with gunshot wounds, as men in military uniforms look on approvingly.
“He bleeds, he moves, he breathes, he has a pulse,” says the smiling sales rep. “His eyes even react to light. We have a canine version too, which barks and whines – and it comes with interchangeable injured limbs.”
I am perusing the medical zone of Defence and Security Equipment International (DSEI), Europe’s biggest arms fair, which takes place every two years in the Excel convention centre in east London. It is a sprawling supermarket of modern warfare, where the world’s armies come to buy the latest AI-guided missiles and tanks, inspect giant warships moored in the Royal Docks, and queue to take a turn sitting in the cockpits of fighter jets.
Every possible military requirement is covered here, from the writhing “high-fidelity trauma simulators”, to camouflage dealers showcasing their prints, to stands selling medals and commemorative coins – and even one specialising in epaulette tassels. Joystick manufacturers jostle with makers of invisibility cloaks, while purveyors of VR simulators compete with those of radar jammers, next to endless ranks of machine guns. Sleek submarines sparkle on spotlit plinths while flocks of missile-carrying drones dangle from the ceiling like menacing mobiles.
A man wearing a Chiron-X1 High-Impact Close Quarter Fighting Training Suit is attacked by a member of the sales team. Photograph: Leon Neal/Getty Images
“This year feels much busier than usual,” one bomb salesman tells me, standing by a gleaming rack of cone-shaped warheads, polished like trophies in a glass cabinet. “It seems war is back in a big way. People are looking to stock up.” Whereas attendees of this great murderous bazaar may once have felt sheepish, they now proudly march through the entrance gates with their heads held high. War, long something that happened far away, is now on our doorstep.
In an auditorium nearby, Britain’s most senior military officer, Adm Sir Tony Radakin, informs a rapt audience about the recently increased threat levels, noting that Russia’s war on Ukraine has highlighted the vulnerability of our cities to deadly missile and drone attacks. It’s now easy to “get close to a country and fly drones in”, he says. “We need to have a conversation about integrated missile defence.”
Recent events in Ukraine have sharpened minds and opened wallets in relation to governmentspending on defence. Total global military expenditure reached an all-time high of $2.2tn (£1.8tn) in 2022, with Europe seeing the steepest annual increase in 30 years – the total surpassing, in real terms, that of the last year of the cold war. The UK has the highest military budget in central and western Europe, at $68.5bn, and the government has committed to increase it. As the hi-tech wares on show in this marketplace of munitions reveal, there are plenty of expensive toys for it to splurge on.
‘It comes with interchangeable injured limbs’ … a trauma training dummy. Photograph: Oliver Wainwright
Covering the mind-boggling area of 14 football pitches, the exhibition is organised into zones for land, naval, aerospace, and even space warfare. In between, there are sections dedicated to medical innovations, security, manufacturing and future tech, along with a host of national pavilions, each showcasing its country’s arms-dealing specialities, like a bloodthirsty Eurovision song contest.
At the Israel pavilion, one company is promoting its “high-penetration wireless communication for indoor robotics and drones”, showing videos of drones swooping through bombed-out buildings, looking for prey like a swarm of deadly mosquitoes. Brazil features a stall offering “ammunition, bombs, rockets and fuses”, with a bowl of complimentary sweets, while a rifle company in the US section tries to lure punters with a free calendar of busty models draped across its anti-aircraft guns. (“It’s been approved by all our female staff,” the man at the desk assures me.)
Norway touts its outdoorsy all-weather reputation, exhibiting a sledge equipped with a machine gun, while, among the long ranks of firearms in the Turkish pavilion, I am offered a gleaming golden handgun. “It’s for people who want the traditional style,” says a beaming lady behind the counter.
Night-vision goggles and AI-assisted firing sights abound, but Switzerland opts for an old-school vibe, showing off its Victorinox Swiss Army knives – including models especially customised for different security forces, from the German navy to the Malaysian police. “The Malaysians are always the funniest and fanciest when it comes to special features,” says the sales manager, showing me a knife with every tool coated in a sleek matte black finish, designed to match their uniforms.
Nearby, I encounter a mannequin covered in a thick furry shroud of white fabric petals, giving it the look of the abominable snowman. It turns out to be a real-life invisibility cloak. “It protects soldiers from UV cameras, thermal cameras and infra-red cameras,” says Kiran Joshi of Indian firm Entremonde Polyecoaters. “It has a special coating on the fabric, so it merges with the surrounding terrain and makes the soldier invisible.” A few stands away I bump into a robotic, drone-carrying dog – whose applications range from perimeter security to bomb disposal – displayed near snout-shaped helmets with electronic ear defenders, designed to be worn by dogs on the battlefield.
‘Enhanced lethality’ …hardware and clothing worn by a mannequin on the C2R display stand. Photograph: Leon Neal/Getty Images
As the host nation, the British armed forces get top billing, showing off the products of the latest projects. At the army stand, staffed by a crowd of young soldiers in neatly pressed khaki uniforms, I am introduced to the new armoured vehicles of the troubled £5.5bn Ajax programme – an “advanced, fully digitised land vehicle system delivering transformational change”, manufactured by General Dynamics in Merthyr Tydfil, Wales. It is the biggest single order in more than two decades, for 589 vehicles at a cost of almost £10m each. Running more than six years late, Ajax has been repeatedly criticised by the National Audit Office, the defence select committee and the public accounts committee, branded “a complete and utter disaster” by the former head of the Royal Navy.
“Nothing like this has ever been seen before,” says a jovial Maj David Hughes, slapping the armoured flank of one of the new reconnaissance vehicles as if it were a prized thoroughbred. “It gives us enhanced lethality, survivability, reliability, mobility and all-weather intelligence.”
He shows me its 40mm cannon, which has a range of more than 1.5 miles (2.5km), as well as long-range thermal sights and acoustic sensors that can pick up gun noises and plot the target directly on the commander’s screen. “With a click of two buttons,” he says, “they can pass that information to an unmanned drone or an Apache helicopter. Another press of a button, and the Apache pilot comes in and destroys the target on one pass. This digitally networked system vastly increases our operational lethality.”
Snout-shaped helmets with electronic ear defenders, designed to be worn by dogs on the battlefield. Photograph: Oliver Wainwright
Nearby hangs a massive jet-powered drone, of the kind that might soon be part of this digitally networked battlefield, carrying a hefty payload of three laser-guided Brimstone missiles. This is the Hydra 400, which uses hybrid propulsion technology (rotors and jet engines) to carry a whopping 400kg of bombs, developed in response to the increasing challenges of urban warfare. Compact and portable, it only takes six minutes to assemble, giving troops “an Apache gunship in the boot of their car”, as one source put it. Next to it, a gaggle of smaller drones hang alongside their mothership, designed to carry its young for longer distances and then release them for precision strikes, like warhead-equipped carrier pigeons.
“They all have onboard AI cameras,” says Maj Matthew McGarvey-Miles, lead of the army warfighting experiment, a flagship programme where the latest technology is developed. “They can identify targets and track them automatically, without the requirement of an operator to constantly monitor them.” These devices are still at testing stage, and need to be approved, but the army appears to be heading rapidly in an automated, connected, lethally digital direction.
“We are responding to the operating environment that we see in Ukraine,” says the army’s chief of the general staff, Patrick Sanders, keen to stress that these unmanned killing machines need skilled humans, too. “When the electromagnetic spectrum is so heavily contested, automation fails and the skill of the pilot predominates. We need ‘war fighters’ – whether they are cyber specialists, drone pilots, or infantry soldiers – to be stronger, faster, more intelligent and more resilient.”
‘An Apache gunship in the boot of your car’ … the Hydra 400 missile-carrying drone. Photograph: Oliver Wainwright
The nature of these unmanned weapons – and the kind of remote fighters the army is looking for – is having a knock-on effect on how the physical controls are designed. While crowds of decorated generals compare the lengths of their missiles at the big-budget displays of major munitions manufacturers, my eye is caught by a small stand that glimmers with hundreds of tiny switches, buttons and joysticks, giving it the look of a fiendishly complex submarine control room.
“We make push-button switches, toggle switches, slam switches, switches with locking levers, and fully sealed safety critical switches,” says Steve Blackwell of Apem components. “We are Europe’s largest manufacturer of switches. But the big thing now is thumb-stick controllers. So many people in the military now come from the Xbox generation, so they’re used to thumb-sticks. Gone are the days when you’d have big pneumatic or hydraulic controls.”
He hands me a controller that looks just like a gaming joypad – a deceptively playful device for something that could unleash hellfire on a pixellated target, hundreds of miles away. Nimble thumbs, it seems, will define the future of warfare. Tomorrow’s battles will be waged from the safety of a gaming chair (also on display), with the assistance of algorithms.
The world of autonomous, unmanned war has already moved beyond drones. I find acoustic minesweepers, smart submarines, self-guided skidoos, tanks and other remote-controlled weaponised contraptions that defy classification. At BAE Systems’ vast, moodily lit stand (which has its own aerial walkway so you can see its armoured hulks from all angles) I find something that looks like a furious praying mantis. This is Strix, billed as a “hybrid, tandem wing, multi-domain and multi-role uncrewed air system”, capable of vertical take-off and seamless transition to horizontal flight, styled like something from the Batcave.
‘All-terrain monster’ … the AI-controlled Rheinmetall Mission Master XT. Photograph: Oliver Wainwright
German arms giant Rheinmetall, meanwhile, takes unmanned vehicles into heavier-duty realms, with a fleet of giant-wheeled, all-terrain monsters that look as if they are auditioning for a part in the next Mad Max movie. With tyres bigger than its body, the chubby Mission Master XT is fully amphibious and capable of carrying 1,000kg payloads for 460 miles without refuelling, even up 35-degree slopes over ice and snow in -30C, using AI-powered navigation. It can spin on the spot, too. A promotional video shows it making snow angels as it trundles into battle.
Outside the exhibition halls, reality hits. “Please be aware,” a polite protester tells visitors, “that many of the countries you are doing business with are on the UK government’s human rights priority list.” Emily Apple of Campaign Against Arms Trade is more direct. “DSEI is a marketplace in death,” she says. “Deals done here will cause misery across the world, causing global instability and devastating people’s lives. Arms dealers only care about perpetuating conflict, because conflict increases profits for their shareholders. It’s time we shut this arms fair down for good.”
Back inside, bottles of champagne have appeared. The face of a young black female mannequin stares out from a body bag, while delegates toast their billion-dollar deals of destruction.
She put Missy Elliott in that blow-up tracksuit and dressed Jay-Z in yellow linen. Fashion stylist and creative director June Ambrose discusses the impact of her iconic looks and what motivates her to be an industry changemaker.
From Van Gogh’s sunflowers to Edvard Munch’s “The Scream,” there’s no shortage of seminal artwork that was made with a striking hue known as cadmium yellow. But that riot of color that artists squeezed from their paint tubes isn’t necessarily what museum goers see today: cadmium yellow’s brilliance often diminishes over time, as the paint fades and turns chalky.
And it’s not only centuries-old artworks that are affected. A team of art conservators and scientists recently analyzed bits of degraded cadmium yellow paint taken from pieces painted by the Spanish artist Joan Miró in the 1970s. One particular brand of paint was likely most responsible for the degradation observed in the Miró pieces, the team concluded in a study published in July in the journal Heritage Science.
Cadmium yellow paint is an amalgam primarily of cadmium and sulfur. It was first commercialized in the 1840s, and soon gained renown among artists. Miró described the color as “splendid.” Tubes of cadmium yellow paint, including Cadmium Yellow Lemon No.1 produced by the Parisian manufacturer Lucien Lefebvre-Foinet, litter Miró’s two studios in Mallorca, Spain.
In 2020, Mar Gómez Lobón, an art conservator based in Mallorca, began investigating the paints that Miró used after he settled on the island in the 1950s. An art conservator at the Pilar and Joan Miro Foundation in Mallorca had tipped her off that more than 25 pieces in the foundation’s collection painted in the 1970s showed evidence of degraded yellow paint.
To dig into the cause of the deterioration, and whether it could be linked to a particular brand of paint, Ms. Gómez Lobón and her colleagues collected tiny flecks of cadmium yellow paint from three untitled pieces that Miró painted between 1973 and 1978. The team also scooped up small samples from three paint tubes from the artist’s Taller Sert and Son Boter studios, a cup used for mixing paint and two palettes. Each sample was roughly the size of a pinhead.
A microscopic sample of paint is enough for many scientific analyses. And there are distinct advantages to analyzing just a fleck of paint, said David Muller, a physicist at Cornell University, who was not involved in the Miró research. Transporting a valuable piece of artwork to a laboratory is logistically complicated. “You’ve got this very fancy security procedure,” Dr. Muller said. But there’s a lot less pressure to working with a paint sample just a thousandth of an inch wide, which is what Dr. Muller and colleagues did when they studied the degradation of cadmium yellow in “The Scream.”
Ms. Gómez Lobón and her collaborators analyzed the nine samples from Miró’s paintings and studio materials by recording how the paint absorbed, reflected and re-emitted different wavelengths of light. That allowed the team to investigate the chemical makeup and crystalline structure of each sample.
The elemental analyses revealed that the degraded paint samples from the three paintings all contained primarily cadmium and sulfur, as expected, with traces of zinc. The same mix was found in paint samples from the two palettes and one of the tubes of paint. Furthermore those six samples — from the degraded paintings, the palettes and the tube of Cadmium Yellow Lemon No.1 by Lucien Lefebvre-Foinet — all exhibited poor crystallinity, the team found. That means that the cadmium and sulfur atoms aren’t perfectly interlocked in their usual hexagonal arrangement, said Daniela Comelli, a materials scientist at the Polytechnic University of Milan and a member of the research team. “There’s some disorder.”
Poor crystallinity of cadmium yellow was also believed to be partially responsible for the degradation observed in older artworks by Picasso, Matisse and other artists. (Environmental conditions, particularly humidity and temperature, have also been shown to play a role.) But these new results highlight the fact that this problem persisted well into the middle of the 20th century, which the researchers found surprising.
“You would think that the paint manufacturers would have corrected the problem,” Ms. Gómez Lobón said. Lucien Lefebvre-Foinet was, in addition, a well-regarded brand, she said. “This was a really high-quality paint.”
In the future, Ms. Gómez Lobón plans to catalog the 100 or so tubes of paint still strewn around Miró’s studios. She hopes to precisely age date the Lucien Lefebvre-Foinet tubes and better understand how the brand produced its paint, specifically its cadmium yellow. Miró left behind a treasure trove of supplies that should be studied, Ms. Gómez Lobón said. “These studios are like a gold mine.”
Objektor Architekti has recently completed the renovationof Ovenecká 33, an open-plan apartmentin Prague, Czech Republic, covering about two hundred square meters. This project offers a comfortable living space and doubles as a creative hub for resident artists. Additionally, it serves as a venue for exhibitions, social gatherings, and provides a personal retreat for the owner, allowing them to personalize their living areas to match their mood and preferences.
Upon entering, one can sense a horizontal layout, with the historic building’s exterior walls serving as the only remnants of its past and a modern concrete skeleton providing essential structural support. According to the architects, the design aims to create a dynamic living space that functions as a canvas for imagination. Its ambiance is in constant flux, influenced by the time of day, the movement of the sun, and the intricate stucco patterns adorning the walls. ‘Some atmospheres are fleeting, disappearing in time, others are static, concretely experienceable and linked to the physical movement,’ describes the team.
Inside the Objektor Architekti’s Ovenecká 33 in prague
When users first step into the house by Objektor Architekti (see more here), they are welcomed by a well-lit area where a corner stucco drinking fountain and a woven throne built into the space create a distinctive centerpiece. The neutral color scheme is complemented by a rich green undertone from the nearby bathroom. The layout flows seamlessly, progressing from the austere geometry of a bookshelf to a passageway leading into the living space.
The apartment is divided into three zones – a communal area, a residential space with a studio, and the owner’s bedroom. Privacy is carefully maintained through strict separation between the bedroom and the lounge area, gradually blending these atmospheres. The bedroom, with its stucco detailing and storage niches, connects to a vaulted bathroom and a walk-in closet, complete with a secret passage to the entrance hall.
Ovenecká 33 rises within the historic building of Prague
The different zones of the apartment merge smoothly into each other, with flexible boundaries that can be adjusted for privacy using vertical sliding elements. The studio bathroom, designed within a strict square module, features a stained-glass window that bathes the space in colorful reflections, transforming neutral white into a play of vibrant shades.
The heart of the communal space is marked by a terrazzo composition with a concrete bar, complemented by movable elements that add versatility to the area. The choice of materials, including stucco, elm wood, floor screed, and concrete, showcases the embedded artifacts and design elements.
privacy can be regulated by vertical sliding elements
‘I enjoy playing on the edges. Within the design of Ovenecká 33, we experimented with different stylistic elements and the boundaries between private and public spaces. I knew right away that I wanted to create a space that was shared, open, and permeable, while still containing hidden corners and secrets. A space where you never have to return along the same route. A space that is distinctive, yet always changing, like a gallery or theatre stage, or like me,’ shares the client.
‘I was lucky to find an architect who understood my ideas. We incorporated various oddities and materialized childhood dreams into the minimalist base; for example, a home throne, a kitchen that looks like a cave, or a secret doorway in the library. I had the opportunity to involve various co-creators, designers, artists, and friends in our eclectic play and participate in their interventions.’
recesses cut into the curved wall serve as display cabinets
Τhe restaurant takes its name from the Oriental Sweet Gum tree, known as ‘’zitia’’ in Greek, a very rare plant that can only be found in southwestern Turkey and Rhodes, most notably in the Valley of Butterflies, an enchanting butterfly habitat. This is also where Zitya’s red-ochre, white and black colour scheme, which extends to its brand identity, took its inspiration from, courtesy of the indigenous Jersey Tiger butterfly.
Occupying a traditional Ibizan finca, the restaurant’s rustic design takes its cues from the property’s heritage; think limewashed surfaces, exposed masonry walls and timber rafters. Rattan chairs, mosaic tabletops, and cotton and linen fabrics enhance the venue’s Mediterranean sensibility while imbuing a sense of nostalgic authenticity. Graphic textile patterns and wrought iron decorative screens again inspired by the Jersey Tiger butterfly’s dotted wings add playful touches.
In the expansive dining patio, large leafy trees that have been growing for decades are complemented by lush planters creating a relaxed, verdant oasis while the candlelit bar and dining area in the finca’s interior evoke more sensual vibes
Sierra Towers is a minimalist residence located in Los Angeles, California, designed by Lauri Design Studio. The project bears testimony to a harmonious balance between the serene principles of wabi-sabi and the refined nature of modernism. The space intertwines natural components and carefully curated art pieces, as well as highlights workmanship in every detail of the residence.
The incorporation of wood elements brings a warm undertone to the interiors, supplemented by Moroccan wool rugs and plush seating arrangements that beckon guests to unwind. Central to the home’s allure is the primary bedroom, a haven of peace with artworks by Ballesteros and Baas, enhancing the tranquil ambiance.
Among the residence’s highlight features are custom furniture pieces designed by Jenni Lauri herself, including a primary bed that exudes luxury and comfort. This centerpiece, along with a custom travertine dining table, infuses the space with a subdued charisma. Adding to this, vintage dining chairs by Afra & Tobia Scarpa and a modern chandelier by Apparatus Studio contribute to a dining room that is both modern and timeless.
Leo Lei translates his passion for minimalism into his daily-updated blog Leibal. In addition, you can find uniquely designed minimalist objects and furniture at the Leibal Store.
A sketch by the English landscape artist John Constable that was found in a suitcase during a house clearance is to be sold at auction.
The pencil sketch, a view across Dover Harbour towards the castle above the town, is more than 200 years old. It is one of a series of sketches the artist made in April 1803 during a voyage on the East India Company ship Coutts from London to Deal.
In a letter to his friend John Dunthorne dated 23 May 1803, Constable wrote: “I came on shore at Deal, walked to Dover (about one and a half hours) and the next day returned to London.”
It is believed Constable made as many as 130 sketches during his trip onboard the ship. Most have disappeared.
The Dover sketch was found in a smashed frame in an old suitcase in a house in the Leeds-York area that was being cleared after the death of the owner. The back of the drawing is inscribed “J Constable”, probably in the handwriting of John Fisher, his friend and patron, who on Constable’s death dispersed many sketches and scrapbooks.
Dominic Cox, of the auctioneers David Duggleby, said: “The sketch is a detailed view across the water of Dover harbour towards the quayside buildings, with the castle high above the town and the cliffs stretching away into the distance. The location is identified at the bottom right and the year is lightly marked in the sky top right.”
It was “only by the greatest good fortune” that any of Constable’s sketches from the trip survived, he told the Yorkshire Post. “Constable had to get off the ship in a hurry when the decision to depart for China was taken and he left his carefully wrapped parcel of drawings behind. Luckily they were recovered before they ended up in the far east.”
The sketch has a pre-sale estimate of £2,000-£3,000.
