For a decade I recorded every aspect of my artistic development, almost every day. This original version of the blog records the first 4 years that I was introduced to Classical Realism. I consider these to be the most formative years of my art career.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
American Artist Drawing Magazine
The Fall 2007 issue of American Artist: Drawing magazine has a twelve page article all about BACAA, and my artwork is featured in the article! There are photos of me working on my cast drawing, and my drawing of Caroline is published as well. I am also quoted throughout the article.
The print magazine is available at art supply stores and large bookstores, and you can read the full article online here!
Thursday, November 08, 2007
TSJ on "Structure"
18 x 24 inches, graphite on paper
Ted lectures in the mornings, and in the afternoons we draw from the model.
Below I've summarized some of his concepts and diagrammed my drawing to show how I am attempting to apply his techniques:
Contours, (the visible "lines"), are affected by the bulges and masses which make up the structure of the body. There are NO concave lines, because the human body is full and has volume. Even very slender people have substantial mass and volume. A concave contour is actually made up of a series of small convex forms.
I've traced the contour lines I drew as they enter the body and correspond to interior structural masses.
These contour lines are arranged, visibly or invisibly, along the body. The structural masses are arranged along these pathways, making a basketweave pattern throughout the form (under and over, in a network).
Structures of the body are arranged in "families" of forms. Each structure has a rounded shape, growing darker as it turns away from the light.
The darkest edge of a form usually ends just before the lightest edge of the next structure, creating a layering of forms and sub-forms.
Ted on Organization of the Body:
The hallmark of the classical approach to drawing is that nature is organized.
Everything is designed with an economy of space, form, and function.
Features of the body are never like snowballs thrown on randomly.
See every point in relationship to the whole; nothing is in the right place until everything is.
Ted on "Structural Pathways"
All the forms of the body are arranged on curving pathways, never straight or angular.
These pathways create a network, like a hairnet.
Pathways exist in 3 dimensions like a basketweave - sometimes on the surface, sometimes burrowing underneath.
Pathways exist in two sets of arches, some arching up and some arching down.
Ted on Structural Forms:
Structure is a vocabulary of forms.
Shapes grow on the body outwards: ample, convex, superimposed, smaller in top of each other.
Universal structural shapes are modified by gesture: squashed, stretched, twisted.
Sometimes forms are so modified they are unrecognizable.
See how these structures are perceived through the actions of light.
Forms are layered - every form can be reduced to its underlying mass.
The body is not a smooth surface, it is made up of specific shapes, it is "particulate".
Train your eye to see the "specialness" of each individual shape.
Continuity - everything in the body connects in a fluid, continuous manner.
Contour reflects the 3-dimensional structure of the form.
Ted on Perception:
Monocular vision (like a camera, or closing one eye) has less perception of form - two eyes "wrap" around the form.
Don't use tools like plumb lines and measuring rods - make yourself the measuring instrument.
Only one point of your subject is NOT foreshortened, the point directly in line from your eye. All other points on the subject are forshortened to a greater or lesser degree.
Drawing is all about recording what you see without being distracted by the symbolic, verbal, abstract symbols of what you are seeing (like the almond/dot egyptian symbol for "eye", which has nothing to do with what a real eye looks like).
My current favorite quote from Ted:
"Drawing is an exercise in human fallibility - it shows how wrong we can be."
Below I've summarized some of his concepts and diagrammed my drawing to show how I am attempting to apply his techniques:
Contours, (the visible "lines"), are affected by the bulges and masses which make up the structure of the body. There are NO concave lines, because the human body is full and has volume. Even very slender people have substantial mass and volume. A concave contour is actually made up of a series of small convex forms.
I've traced the contour lines I drew as they enter the body and correspond to interior structural masses.
These contour lines are arranged, visibly or invisibly, along the body. The structural masses are arranged along these pathways, making a basketweave pattern throughout the form (under and over, in a network).
Structures of the body are arranged in "families" of forms. Each structure has a rounded shape, growing darker as it turns away from the light.
The darkest edge of a form usually ends just before the lightest edge of the next structure, creating a layering of forms and sub-forms.
Ted on Organization of the Body:
The hallmark of the classical approach to drawing is that nature is organized.
Everything is designed with an economy of space, form, and function.
Features of the body are never like snowballs thrown on randomly.
See every point in relationship to the whole; nothing is in the right place until everything is.
Ted on "Structural Pathways"
All the forms of the body are arranged on curving pathways, never straight or angular.
These pathways create a network, like a hairnet.
Pathways exist in 3 dimensions like a basketweave - sometimes on the surface, sometimes burrowing underneath.
Pathways exist in two sets of arches, some arching up and some arching down.
Ted on Structural Forms:
Structure is a vocabulary of forms.
Shapes grow on the body outwards: ample, convex, superimposed, smaller in top of each other.
Universal structural shapes are modified by gesture: squashed, stretched, twisted.
Sometimes forms are so modified they are unrecognizable.
See how these structures are perceived through the actions of light.
Forms are layered - every form can be reduced to its underlying mass.
The body is not a smooth surface, it is made up of specific shapes, it is "particulate".
Train your eye to see the "specialness" of each individual shape.
Continuity - everything in the body connects in a fluid, continuous manner.
Contour reflects the 3-dimensional structure of the form.
Ted on Perception:
Monocular vision (like a camera, or closing one eye) has less perception of form - two eyes "wrap" around the form.
Don't use tools like plumb lines and measuring rods - make yourself the measuring instrument.
Only one point of your subject is NOT foreshortened, the point directly in line from your eye. All other points on the subject are forshortened to a greater or lesser degree.
Drawing is all about recording what you see without being distracted by the symbolic, verbal, abstract symbols of what you are seeing (like the almond/dot egyptian symbol for "eye", which has nothing to do with what a real eye looks like).
My current favorite quote from Ted:
"Drawing is an exercise in human fallibility - it shows how wrong we can be."
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Ted Seth Jacobs - Figure Workshop
This week I've begun Ted Seth Jacobs' 6-week figure drawing workshop, offered through the Bay Area Classical Artist Atelier.
So far I have come up with this summary of my impression of Ted's method for figure drawing. (Note: This is my impression, and not a direct quote, he may describe it differently):
The human body is an organized, "designed" system of interlocking structures.
This interlocking system as a whole is affected by the downward pull of gravity, and also by the upward pressures of supports.
The whole or the parts can be seen as being pulled and pushed, resulting in draping (like a suspension bridge) and bulging.
Pressure from supports (like a chair, etc) makes the masses of the body take on the characteristics of the underlying support.
Ted draws figures with all curved lines. He feels that sharp corners are antithetical to life, and would result in "starvation, disease, and death!" (he says with a deep ominous tone, and then a chuckle).
As you can imagine, I am having a hard time reconciling this, considering I have spent most of 2007 studying a more formal, straight-edged block-in method.
But I believe there is a correlation between the two approaches - both are investigations into the underlying system. One uses perfect arcs and straight lines, the other uses undulating curves. But both are looking for the structure, the system, the truth, the architecture, the energy of the human form.
Ted looks for lines of action, grouped in "families" of similar directions. He teaches us that every contour (visible line) is in direct relationship to these invisible lines of movement.
Today he drew a demo for us of Bouguereau's Pieta at the Legion of Honor museum here in San Francisco. This is my approximation of some of the relationships he diagrammed for us:
Below, the more formal/rigid analysis I've been practicing these last few months. I try to find main angles that repeat in parallel all over the form. The angel of the jaw as it correlates to the angle of the ankle, and everything between.
And this last one is for fun - it's more about the composition and architecture of the entire painting, versus the structure of a single figure. It's fascinating to find these diagrams in a painting, so clear and yet hidden at first glance. We feel it before we see it:
As a final note: My favorite concept so far from Ted:
"The simplest definition of a 'gesture' is an action showing intention, or desire."
So far I have come up with this summary of my impression of Ted's method for figure drawing. (Note: This is my impression, and not a direct quote, he may describe it differently):
The human body is an organized, "designed" system of interlocking structures.
This interlocking system as a whole is affected by the downward pull of gravity, and also by the upward pressures of supports.
The whole or the parts can be seen as being pulled and pushed, resulting in draping (like a suspension bridge) and bulging.
Pressure from supports (like a chair, etc) makes the masses of the body take on the characteristics of the underlying support.
Ted draws figures with all curved lines. He feels that sharp corners are antithetical to life, and would result in "starvation, disease, and death!" (he says with a deep ominous tone, and then a chuckle).
As you can imagine, I am having a hard time reconciling this, considering I have spent most of 2007 studying a more formal, straight-edged block-in method.
But I believe there is a correlation between the two approaches - both are investigations into the underlying system. One uses perfect arcs and straight lines, the other uses undulating curves. But both are looking for the structure, the system, the truth, the architecture, the energy of the human form.
Ted looks for lines of action, grouped in "families" of similar directions. He teaches us that every contour (visible line) is in direct relationship to these invisible lines of movement.
Today he drew a demo for us of Bouguereau's Pieta at the Legion of Honor museum here in San Francisco. This is my approximation of some of the relationships he diagrammed for us:
Below, the more formal/rigid analysis I've been practicing these last few months. I try to find main angles that repeat in parallel all over the form. The angel of the jaw as it correlates to the angle of the ankle, and everything between.
And this last one is for fun - it's more about the composition and architecture of the entire painting, versus the structure of a single figure. It's fascinating to find these diagrams in a painting, so clear and yet hidden at first glance. We feel it before we see it:
As a final note: My favorite concept so far from Ted:
"The simplest definition of a 'gesture' is an action showing intention, or desire."
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Pewter on Plastic
The scan does not capture the subtlety of the graphite, but you get the general idea.
My goal with this still life drawing was to make a more dramatic composition and attain a sense of depth. Compared to my previous attempts (scroll down to see my other recent still life drawings) I think I did a better job of making an engaging image. But still not quite there yet.
I also experimented with making fine white marks with the eraser into the graphite, and alternating those marks with layers of crosshatching, to create a more interesting and complex surface. You can see it especially on the main body of the pewter pitcher, which I built up with layers of knitted marks.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
After Michaelangelo's Sibyl
Last month on my trip to New York I was able to see the original of this drawing in the study room of the Met. The mere 40 minutes I was able to look at the original drawing (and the fact that I was a bit overwhelmed being in the presence of it) made it impossible to do a satisfactory study of it.
So I bought a reproduction at the Met gift shop, and this week I did this study of it. I spent about 8 hours on this.
I am so amazed by the organized matrix of systems that make up a human being. I say "matrix" because every part is interrelated to every other part, like a grid. To put any landmark in the wrong position skews every other landmark in the drawing.
And of course Michaelangelo designs his drawing to illustrate these relationships. Copying his drawing is like watching a chess player think.
For fun I've diagrammed some of the relationships I found:
If I draw lines following the axis of each hand, as if she is balancing rods across the heels of each palm, you can see that these two lines can be repeated all over the body, connecting everything in a system:
Another thing I look for is verticals. When we draw, we tend to put things where we think they are. The twisted position in this drawing makes it even more complicated to capture the gesture, because we tend to want to exaggerate the twist, or "untwist" the form while we draw:
To fight against this habit of untwisting or over-twisting, I drop vertical imaginary plumb lines and keep them in mind for lining up landmarks. Glancing at this image quickly, I never would have guessed that the ear is directly over the top left corner of the pelvis, or that the back contour of the back is almost a perfect vertical.
This is the sketch I did at the Met in front of the original drawing. Although it looks clunky and angular, I used the same method for both drawings. I don't draw any curves, I just keep segmenting the straight lines.
I wanted to see how I did on the fast drawing in the Met, so I colored it red and superimposed it over my longer study. I did pretty well in the fast sketch after all. In fact, I made the same mistake twice, but corrected it in the longer sketch!
You can see how the fast sketch (in red) has the left arm too far over to the left. I did the same thing on the longer sketch, but later realized my mistake and adjusted it back over to the right, fairly far into the drawing.
I think I did that twice because I see the head as positioned between the two hands, so I unconsciously tried to center it between the two hands. In reality, it is much closer to the left hand.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Pewter Pitcher and Grapes Drawing
My conflict recently is whether to spend my time on exercises and studies, or to try to create finished paintings to the best of my current ability.
The conflict is that working on exercises makes me feel like time is rushing by me while I piddle around and have little to show or sell. But then, painting "finished" pieces always makes me realize how much better I would be if I had spent more time studying drawing, or value, or color, or form as a discrete problems instead of tackling everything at once in a painting.
I have a feeling this is something I will struggle with my whole life.
Thought I would share my latest version of my still-life setup, which has evolved to be somewhat elaborate recently:
I want a more direct, artificial light to fall on my still life so I can see stronger shadows. So I tacked a big piece of white foamcore to hang down from my skylight. The white, general light still falls on my easel, while the the still life is shaded from the skylight, and lit by a little incandescent light on a flexible arm.
I also was struggling to hold up a cardboard viewfinder while I am blocking in the composition. So I set up an extra easel and clamped my viewfinder to it. If I position everything perfectly, I can see my still life setup framed perfectly in the viewfinder, and without turning my head significantly I can also see my easel, and even reach it with my pencil if I am lucky.
It takes a lot of shifting around to get the right position of the viewer, the easel, and my own head, but once it's set up it makes everything so much easier.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Peeled Lemon II
After seeing all those Dutch paintings this summer I feel strangely tempted to tackle dewy fruit and reflective goblets and glass flutes and heavy satin cloth....
I have cut up and peeled nearly a dozen lemons to get the perfect twisted peel and correct lemon shape for these two drawings. The fruit flies are loving my studio these days.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Peeled Lemon 1
Inspired by the lemons often present in Dutch still lifes, I decided to try my own. Problem is, the lemon peel dries out after just a day or two, so I haven't gotten as far painting them yet.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Last Day in New York
Today I spent ALL DAY at the Met, it was fantastic!!
First off I had to track down Madam X, and discovered that they have devoted an entire gallery room to Sargent pantings. I was... agog. And the best part is it was nearly empty the whole time I was in there. (Maybe because they are renovating the American Wing so this layout is temporary, and also it is up and down stairs and rather hard to find and The Sargent Room is at the very end of rooms and rooms of American art. Anyway, I just felt I'd gone to heaven.)
What you can't see here are some exquisite landscapes on a wall to the right, including this incredible little painting of an Alpine Pool. And high up on another wall is The Wyndham Sisters. And truly, when you look at that painting, you can just about hear their silk gowns rustling on the white brocade couch.
This one is for my friend Shawn Kenney, who told me Velazquez' Juan de Pareja is one of his favorite paintings. So thanks to him mentioning that I sought it out and decided to do a little sketch.
Next up on my Met to-do list was to spend some time in the new Greek and Roman sculpture gallery. It has huge glass ceilings and a fountain making bubbling-water noises and as soon as you enter you start to breathe more deeply and slow down and really look. And there's lots to look at.
First off I had to track down Madam X, and discovered that they have devoted an entire gallery room to Sargent pantings. I was... agog. And the best part is it was nearly empty the whole time I was in there. (Maybe because they are renovating the American Wing so this layout is temporary, and also it is up and down stairs and rather hard to find and The Sargent Room is at the very end of rooms and rooms of American art. Anyway, I just felt I'd gone to heaven.)
What you can't see here are some exquisite landscapes on a wall to the right, including this incredible little painting of an Alpine Pool. And high up on another wall is The Wyndham Sisters. And truly, when you look at that painting, you can just about hear their silk gowns rustling on the white brocade couch.
This one is for my friend Shawn Kenney, who told me Velazquez' Juan de Pareja is one of his favorite paintings. So thanks to him mentioning that I sought it out and decided to do a little sketch.
Next up on my Met to-do list was to spend some time in the new Greek and Roman sculpture gallery. It has huge glass ceilings and a fountain making bubbling-water noises and as soon as you enter you start to breathe more deeply and slow down and really look. And there's lots to look at.
Sketch from an Aphrodite in Marble
Roman copy of a Greek orginal
Pencil on paper, approx 9 x 5 inches
Roman copy of a Greek orginal
Pencil on paper, approx 9 x 5 inches
Finally, I took another look at the Age of Rembrandt exhibit (see highlights from the exhibit here). This was actually my third visit to the Met this week, so I had already seen most the exhibit.
The exhibit was bigger than the Portland exhibit I went to last month, so it was nice to see a LOT of paintings. But, being the Met, it was really crowded. I would have loved to spend some time drawing Aristotle's Sleeves, but the place was just too mobbed.
So today was our last day in New York. I've added more pictures to my NY Picasa Album. Some are arty "photographs", some are just snapshots taken with the crappy camera phone. (The arty-est one is the blue billowing tarp over a dumpster, you have to agree.)
Next it's home and back to the studio. Stay tuned!!
The exhibit was bigger than the Portland exhibit I went to last month, so it was nice to see a LOT of paintings. But, being the Met, it was really crowded. I would have loved to spend some time drawing Aristotle's Sleeves, but the place was just too mobbed.
So today was our last day in New York. I've added more pictures to my NY Picasa Album. Some are arty "photographs", some are just snapshots taken with the crappy camera phone. (The arty-est one is the blue billowing tarp over a dumpster, you have to agree.)
Next it's home and back to the studio. Stay tuned!!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Drawing at the Met
At the Metropolitan Museum of Art you can make an appointment at the Drawing Study Room, which is like a library, and they will pull any drawing you want to see from their collection and put it on a stand on the table in front of you. Wow... so I went and did this today, and of course had to choose their two most famous drawings, Michaelangelo's Study for the Libyan Sibyl and Leonardo's Head of the Virgin. I only had a short time with each, and I was pretty overwhelmed with being in the presence of a 499 year old drawing, but I enjoyed the chance to get a good look at them. I'm also inspired to do more master copies from reproductions at home.
Today I also visited Grand Central Academy of Art today. Dan Thompson teaches there and he was kind enough to give me a tour. The school is set up in four huge old classrooms on the 6th floor of a midtown building. Each room is dedicated to a single pursuit: figure study, cast drawings, sculpture for painters, etc, and they have arranged the lighting and painted the walls to be perfect for each pursuit. The school is gathering an amazing collection of casts, and everywhere you see statues set up with lights, stacked in corners, tacked to walls, with students busily working away on detailed pencil drawings.
I've now visited Studio Incamminati, Gage Academy, and Barnstone Studios - between all these, I have certainly had a great little tour of the "American atelier movement" these last few weeks.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Frick Frack etc...
I spent a couple hours at the Frick Collection today. It wasn't very busy so I could stand and draw without being jostled by throngs. I sketched a Rembrandt self-portrait from 1658, and the lady from Vermeer's "Mistress & Maid" - the mistress is receiving an apparently unexpected letter from her maid, thus the gesture of surprise.
I also visited 4 galleries today, but I was only really excited by two of them:
Forum Gallery
A works on paper exhibit with some good Modern and contemporary specimens. Got to see my first Stephen Assael up close and in person. He seems to scrape away a lot with a knife of some sort, so he layers lots of dark marks with graphite and charcoal, and then white marks with the scraping. The show as a whole seemed a bit jumbled though, with only the fact that the work was on paper holding it all together.
Hirschle & Adler
A great show of still lifes by Paul Rahilly. His color technique is very impressive - he uses tons of color but manages to keep a compelling value range as well. The gallery was also showing selections from the permanent collection, including these "Allegorical Figures in Blue/Pink" which were just luscious to see up close.
New York is of course all about walking.... and walking.... and taking the subway. I quickly gave up on trying to wear even semi-attractive shoes and have been comfortably clomping around in my San Francisco standard-issue chartreuse green Keens. (I just try to stay out of the way of the many model-types who seem to glide effortlessly down the street in their white headbands, huge sunglasses, and smart little pumps.)
The heat hasn't been record-breaking, just high 80's, but being from San Francisco even 80's is shockingly warm, and the subway platforms are just about unbearable. It's supposed to rain Friday so maybe the heat will break soon. Ah, September in NY!
Monday, September 24, 2007
New York Monday 9/24
Ten days in New York! I am so excited to have time to explore!
My first pilgrimage was to visit Arcadia Gallery, which I first discovered online over a year ago. The current show is "small works" which I was thrilled about, because about 20 artists are represented with several small paintings each. You can see the whole Small Works Show here, but the tiny images on the website do not do the work justice. Camie Davis, Paul Raymond Seaton and Daniel Adel's paintings were particularly stunning in person.
The gallery prints up a large multi-page color brochure/catalog for each of their shows and sells copies of them for just $3. So I now own a handful of beautiful little catalogs for Adel, Seaton, Grimaldi, Hicks, Mackesy and Lipking.
Had a nice conversation with the gallery owner, who guessed I must be a painter, because apparently only painters buy up handfuls of their brochures. He says he does not show "classical realists" per se... rather painters who paint very well. He says he looks for something contemporary and relevant, not simply work that attempts to mimic the past. I told him Myron Barnstone said nearly the same thing to me.
FYI, Arcadia is going to have major works showing at the San Francisco Fine Art Fair at Fort Mason this Sept 28/29. If you are in SF this weekend don't miss it!
After the gallery visit we had a wonderful afternoon walking through SoHo and the Village (see pictures). New York is only 75 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny about 8 days a year, and we caught one such day!
My first pilgrimage was to visit Arcadia Gallery, which I first discovered online over a year ago. The current show is "small works" which I was thrilled about, because about 20 artists are represented with several small paintings each. You can see the whole Small Works Show here, but the tiny images on the website do not do the work justice. Camie Davis, Paul Raymond Seaton and Daniel Adel's paintings were particularly stunning in person.
The gallery prints up a large multi-page color brochure/catalog for each of their shows and sells copies of them for just $3. So I now own a handful of beautiful little catalogs for Adel, Seaton, Grimaldi, Hicks, Mackesy and Lipking.
Had a nice conversation with the gallery owner, who guessed I must be a painter, because apparently only painters buy up handfuls of their brochures. He says he does not show "classical realists" per se... rather painters who paint very well. He says he looks for something contemporary and relevant, not simply work that attempts to mimic the past. I told him Myron Barnstone said nearly the same thing to me.
FYI, Arcadia is going to have major works showing at the San Francisco Fine Art Fair at Fort Mason this Sept 28/29. If you are in SF this weekend don't miss it!
After the gallery visit we had a wonderful afternoon walking through SoHo and the Village (see pictures). New York is only 75 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny about 8 days a year, and we caught one such day!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Jacob Collins Interview 2006
Some great quotes from an interview with Jacob Collins (the interview took place a year ago, but I just discovered it):
"One of the things I noticed when I was an art student was that a lot of artists or young art students were made to feel very culturally insecure—even in a socially or socio-economically way. In light of this, they tried to pursue a kind of art, like modernism, that seemed to push forward. Traditional art was, essentially, the art of provincials or hicks, not intellectual or significant."
"When I was a kid, I felt like I was isolated in my pursuit of traditional art forms... There’s a certain amount of regret that I experienced when I was launching into a career where I was pretty isolated: I was doing Traditional art in the 1980s... and gradually, one by one, I found other people who were interested in the same thing—in the beginning I was quite amazed and excited to find another person who also wanted to draw a figure with a coherent structure, or to learn how to put together a painting with paint and glaze.... I started finding people in very mysterious ways: people popped up and showed up at the door. I was very inspired. I found that I was meeting a whole lot of people who had the same strong desire for Traditionalism as me."
"For quite a while when I was starting out, most of the market in New York was for Modern art.... But now it’s changing, it’s changing fast. The galleries are really recognizing the passions of the artists and the interests of the collectors."
Read the whole interview here.
"One of the things I noticed when I was an art student was that a lot of artists or young art students were made to feel very culturally insecure—even in a socially or socio-economically way. In light of this, they tried to pursue a kind of art, like modernism, that seemed to push forward. Traditional art was, essentially, the art of provincials or hicks, not intellectual or significant."
"When I was a kid, I felt like I was isolated in my pursuit of traditional art forms... There’s a certain amount of regret that I experienced when I was launching into a career where I was pretty isolated: I was doing Traditional art in the 1980s... and gradually, one by one, I found other people who were interested in the same thing—in the beginning I was quite amazed and excited to find another person who also wanted to draw a figure with a coherent structure, or to learn how to put together a painting with paint and glaze.... I started finding people in very mysterious ways: people popped up and showed up at the door. I was very inspired. I found that I was meeting a whole lot of people who had the same strong desire for Traditionalism as me."
"For quite a while when I was starting out, most of the market in New York was for Modern art.... But now it’s changing, it’s changing fast. The galleries are really recognizing the passions of the artists and the interests of the collectors."
Read the whole interview here.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Drawing Marathon
On Sunday I attended Bay Area Model's Guild Drawing Marathon, which is an all-day drawing event held quarterly. They have a room full of models working all day, with different lengths of poses. I worked at the long-pose model stand, so each of these two drawings was 3-hour session.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Rembrandt in Portland, OR
I visited Portland Museum of Art to see the Rembrandt and the Golden Age of Dutch Art exhibit. The work is on tour from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum while that museum is being renovated. It was wonderful to see the Rembrandts in person, I love to stare at his brush strokes and try to fathom how he builds up from transparent darkness to his signature clotted, swirly lights.
As for the other Dutch Masters, I was especially entranced by this Still Life by Jan van de Velde, which surprised me. The reproduction does not do it justice at all, but the painting was just captivating in person. Even standing within inches from the canvas, the illusion of the glass objects emerging from the dark background is never broken. More than just stunning hyper-realism, this painting has a magical, captivating feeling.
(An interesting footnote - smoking was considered a sin, but the wealthy, pious Dutch liked to hang images of the vices they rejected, as a way to display their own righteousness. Which is why so many Dutch still lifes feature pipes and smoking paraphernalia. I wonder, would that be the equivalent of our own most wealthy and pious members of society displaying images of illegal drug paraphernalia?)
At the museum store I bought a fascinating book: Art in the Making: Rembrandt which has gorgeous close-ups of Rembrandt's brush strokes, as well as magnified cross-sections of the paint layers, and analysis of what pigments he used and how he used them. Very fun to find such a technical book.
While in Portland I visited my college friend, painter Scott Conary, whom I had not seen in person in 14 years. He and his wife were kind enough to put me up for the night, and we drank wine and talked art for hours. We had some good discussions, because he does not understand my fascination with classical realism, but at least he liked what I showed him of Michael Grimaldi so we found some common ground :)
As for the other Dutch Masters, I was especially entranced by this Still Life by Jan van de Velde, which surprised me. The reproduction does not do it justice at all, but the painting was just captivating in person. Even standing within inches from the canvas, the illusion of the glass objects emerging from the dark background is never broken. More than just stunning hyper-realism, this painting has a magical, captivating feeling.
(An interesting footnote - smoking was considered a sin, but the wealthy, pious Dutch liked to hang images of the vices they rejected, as a way to display their own righteousness. Which is why so many Dutch still lifes feature pipes and smoking paraphernalia. I wonder, would that be the equivalent of our own most wealthy and pious members of society displaying images of illegal drug paraphernalia?)
At the museum store I bought a fascinating book: Art in the Making: Rembrandt which has gorgeous close-ups of Rembrandt's brush strokes, as well as magnified cross-sections of the paint layers, and analysis of what pigments he used and how he used them. Very fun to find such a technical book.
While in Portland I visited my college friend, painter Scott Conary, whom I had not seen in person in 14 years. He and his wife were kind enough to put me up for the night, and we drank wine and talked art for hours. We had some good discussions, because he does not understand my fascination with classical realism, but at least he liked what I showed him of Michael Grimaldi so we found some common ground :)
Monday, September 10, 2007
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Time Lapse
This is so cool - Nowell set up his high-definition digital video camera on his tripod and recorded a couple time-lapse films of our art class this week.
You can see the films on YouTube:
Gage Academy on YouTube Day 1
Gage Academy on YouTube Day 2
You can also see higher-quality versions of the the clips on
Nowell's website.
Note - you'll need Quicktime, and the file sizes are large, it may take a while to load
Friday, August 31, 2007
Notes From Juliette Aristides' Workshop II
8 x 10 inches, oil on panel
The last day of Juliette's still life painting workshop was today. I am so excited to get back to my studio and practice all the new techniques I learned! More on this pear painting at the end of this post.
Here are many of the paintings and excercises I produced during the workshop:
Juliette distributed color copies of master paintings and had us trace over them with dry-erase markers on clear acetate to analyze the structure of the composition. What looks like a chaotic image is actually very carefully composed: It all fits within a neat, perfectly centered diamond shape.
Juliette had us mix 9 values of titanium and ivory on our palettes: black, white, and 7 steps between. We then copied a master painting, simplifying the major light and dark areas into flat, "posterized" areas of tone.
Using the same flat values, we painted a quick sketch of our still-life setup. We also did these same studies with cut paper - paper colored black, white, and two shades of gray. (I don't have a picture of this). The cut paper really forced us to simplify, and did not allow "cheating" - no mixing of vaules.
Value study underpainting - Raw umber "wipe-out"
(brown paint is applied and then "wiped out" to show white canvas beneath)
(brown paint is applied and then "wiped out" to show white canvas beneath)
This small study was done with only raw umber, ultramarine blue, and titanium white.
This was my first attempt at the technique Juliette calls "tiling". After doing a raw umber underpainting, the color phase of the painting is applied stroke by stroke, starting from the darkest dark and stacking "tiles" up to the lightest light. Each tile color is mixed on the palette and applied with a single, short brushstroke. From a distance it blends together, but up close each color note is distinct. You can see sharp edges around my tiles - bad! With practice the goal is to paint tiles that are close in value and color, with no sharp transitions. It's a veery slooow process. But actually very satisfying.
I described how I started this painting in a previous post. This is my first attempt applying all of the techniques in a single painting. But after a couple days I decided I had composed a painting with too many complicated elements and too-strong contrasting colors and values. I wanted to try something more subtle to practice the techniques, so I called this one "done" and moved on.
I spent 2 and 1/2 days on this painting. The photograph does not show all the subtle "tiling" I sweated over, but you get the general idea. Juliette encouraged me to slow down (apparently my Daily Painting practice has made me a "speed painter") and look very carefully at the transitions. She had me pay close attention to midtones, the subtle gradations between the darkest darks and lightest lights across the surface of the pears. I feel like I learned so much within this one small painting, and I am so excited to get back to my studio and try more.
I started this painting as a last quick project today, the last day, but did not have time to finish it. But I like the composition a lot, so maybe I'll set it up at home and finish it.
These are the steps Juliette taught for creating a painting:
1. Draw the composition with pencil on paper
2. Transfer drawing to the canvas
3. Ink the major lines with an indelible fine point sharpie pen
4. Paint the whole canvas with raw umber, and "wipe out" to create a tonal underpainting
5. Let the underpainting dry
6. With full color, paint the background, ground plane, shadow side of objects, light side of objects, in that order
7. Apply color with small "tiles"
8. Paint the "least interesting" areas of the painting first - save the best for last
More various notes and tips from Juliette:
- Practice mixing a color wheel with lots of beautiful, clean neutrals
- Lay a note down for a color and leave it - don't over-mix.
- Your palette tends to reflect the painting - mix the colors you will need
- To "pump up" the light in a painting, focus on super-extending the halftones - don't focus on the darkest darks and lightest lights.
- Look at Chardin
- Look at Fantin Latour
- A strong image will read well from a distance
- Economy - solve problems using less (ie, solve an edge using a shift in color, instead of a shift in value)
- Become rock-solid in a few simple things
- Lump shadow shapes and light shapes, not individual objects
- Try one bright color note in a mainly monochromatic painting
- Copy master works, analyze for lines, arcs, value, color distribution
Fletcher Palette
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