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.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Wax Paper I
I began with a detailed contour drawing the same size as the final painting, and then transferred the drawing to the panel:
It was so much easier to do the underpainting having solved many of the drawing issues already. I used brown and black, and just used paint thinner to lift the paint off again for the lights and whites:
Stage 2 of the underpainting, still using just brown and black and thinner:
A first pass of basic color. I was worried at this point that I wouldn't be able to capture the feel of the wax paper's transparency, but I felt better when I refined the lower right corner of the wax paper shape and started getting a feel for it:
This is where I missed photographing a few stages. I worked especially hard on the ellipse shape of the rim of the dish, it's so easy to make a painted rim look distorted:
Now that the pitcher and dish were complete, I spent the last several days of work just focused on the wax paper, moving from lower right up to the top:
The completed painting:
NEWS: Two July Shows
I currently have 18 paintings on display right now. Nine are at my eye doctor's office, Dr Marcus, who likes to show a rotating series of art on his waiting room walls. My work will be on display through July and August, and the office is located at:
512 Westline Drive in Alameda, CA
My second show is at Frank Bette Gallery, also in Alameda, and there will be an opening with wine and refreshments this Friday July 11. I'm honored to have had all 9 paintings I submitted accepted to their group show "Still, Life". Frank Bette is located at
1601 Paru Street at Lincoln Ave, Alameda, CA
Oh and an update on the Stow Lake landscape I started last month.... due to the fog and also the smoke from forest fires, there hasn't been a clear sunny day in San Francisco for a month! Even when it is mainly sunny the light has a disturbing filtered feel to it, like we are living in air the color of weak tea. I'd like to paint outside again, but summer in San Francisco may not be the season. We usually have our nicest days in September, oddly enough.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sneak Preview: "Wax Paper I" and Thoughts on Realism
oil on panel
(work in progress)
This is just a cropped detail of a larger painting I am working on right now - so far 26 hours and counting. My good camera is broken so I've had to photograph the stages with my inferior "point-n-shoot", but the good camera is being fixed soon so when the painting is done and the camera is fixed (whichever comes later) I'll post the final painting and all the stages.
I decided that posting frequently was making me feel like I had to complete something "postable" every few days. Sometimes a little pressure is good, but sometimes it makes me rush my process. So I'll be posting less frequently, but when I do I'll have something substantial to show, and I'll still publish all the process photos.
In the meantime, here are some thoughts I've had rattling around my head about realist art - or maybe it applies to non-representational/abstract art as well:
When we look at a painting we are confronting a situation of real/not real. Our minds flutter between these two paradoxical concepts embodied simultaneously. This flutter quickens to a thrum, and it is in this space, the simultaneous holding of the paradox, that our beingness is felt.
When we create, we are experiencing beingness – the loss of awareness of self, the loss of awareness of past and future. Nothing but the present moment exists, a true experience of reality. This state is difficult to enter, but in recording it an artist shares the experience. Looking at a painting we get a glimpse of this state of being.
The act of painting elevates the subject. Mundane objects are infused with an epic, monumental quality. Like a scent that fills us with longing for a certain afternoon years ago, a memory, the shadow of reality, can often strike us more deeply than the original. Paintings are the shadow of reality, the record of a memory. Through painting we reveal a depth of reality in the moment that can touch us more deeply than the subject itself.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Stow Lake, Golden Gate Park
My paints finally arrived successfully from France!! I don't know what that crazy "pick up your package at the post office in France" message was on La Poste's web site, all I know is the box arrived today!
I was so excited to have my paints and brushes back that I immediately strapped my paint kit onto my to my bike with bungee cords and rode over to Golden Gate Park a few blocks from my house.
In the middle of the GG Park is a circular lake with an island in the middle called Stow Lake, and I knew I'd find something beautiful to paint there. I just loved this spot with the trees hanging over a quiet patch of water.
I decided to spend a whole session on just the values, and save color for another day. It was a good approach for me because just working with dark and light feels simply like drawing with charcoal, which is a lot more comfortable. I'm hoping I can keep the organization of the composition and the feel of the filtered sunlight once I start using color.
Anyway, thanks everyone who wrote sympathy and encouragement for my temporarily lost paints, I was really upset to think they were missing and your emails really cheered me up!
Monday, June 09, 2008
Sketchbook: California Trees
I've been home from Paris for 6 days now, and after the week of unpacking, doing laundry, and sorting through 6 weeks of mail, I'm sort of feeling ready to be productive again.
So today I walked up the hill to good ole' Buena Vista park and did this sketch.
I'm trying not to worry too much about my paints, which are in a box somewhere in the bowels of La Poste. I'm trying not to worry that the package tracking number on La Poste's web site gives me a message that says: "Colis en instance à La Poste, destinataire avisé disposant de 15 jours pour aller le retirer." That means, "The package is at the post office, receiver (that's me) has been advised to pick it up within 15 days".
I have no idea what that means. My package is sitting in the Paris post office waiting for me to pick it up? What?? So it's looking like I might need to replace several hundred dollar's worth of good paints and brushes, but I'm holding out hope.
Yes, I have been asked by friends and family and my husband "Why didn't you insure the box?" Good question. Answers are as follows:
a) Being a tourist and a poor speaker of French I'm afraid of French government employees, including post office workers (if you have spent time in France, you are afraid of them too).
b) I don't know how to conjugate the verb "to insure" and I'm not sure they would understand me if I did.
c) I heard a rumor from another American that if your box is worth more than 100 Euros you have to fill out special customs forms and the box has to go through lots of extra vague and scary processes. So I wrote the box was worth 85 Euros.
d) I've tried to ship paint in the USA and they sure don't like it. Now I ship "vegetable oil based artist materials", but I don't know how to say that in French.
So given all that, I took a risk and just shipped the damn box, and they probably x-rayed my package and found out it's not "livres et vestements" like I wrote on the form (books and clothes, misspelled) and on the x-ray machine they saw the squiggly metal tubes and the hinges of my tiny pochade box and thought it was something they would prefer not to ship. That's my guess. But they are French, who knows. Maybe they just thought my adorable pochade box was too lovely to leave their country.
Anyway, in the meantime I am drawing in my little Louvre gift-shop sketchbook with good old pencil (did I mention my good charcoal collection is in the box, too?).
As I drew these branches I started seeing all this crazy fluid spiraling, kind of like muscles twisting around bones, with interlaced forms creating non-parallel tapering wedges .... turns out this organic, energetic human form I've been studying applies to trees, too.
Are we surprised? Non.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Paris: Louvre Sketch: Reni Hercules II
"Hercules sur le bucher", 1619
Louvre, Paris
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Paris: Amelie Beaury-Saurel
I found this gorgeous portrait of a woman writer by a woman painter at the Musee Carnavalet. Turns out the painter AmelieBeaury-Saurel was a famous portrait painter in the late 19th century and ran a woman's art school. She was married to Rodolphe Julien, who established Academie Julien, a French art school women were allowed to attend.
Paris: Musee Carnavalet
Turns out it's just a gorgeous gem of a museum. Starting with an incredible courtyard garden, it's an experience just to enter the beautiful scene. Even better, there was NO LINE at all, and on this particular day at least it was FREE. It felt like we'd stumbled on a secret museum!
Inside it's chock full of paintings of Paris, paintings in chronological order from throughout the history of painting. It was like a condensed tour of every era of French painting, but at a manageable scale, and all with Paris itself as the main subject.
In addition to the paintings, there are amazing exhibits and models - models of the Guillotine, the Bastille (the armory prison which was torn down during the Revolution and so no longer exists), models of Notre Dame and other churches, and tiny models of medieval Paris herself.
Because it's in two adjoining mansions and not in a huge museum building, we incorrectly assumed it was small. But after two hours we realized we had only seen the 16th century through the 18th century sections! There were still entire WINGS devoted to the Revolution, 19th century painting, and ancient, pre-Roman civilizations. We realized we'll have to come back again to really absorb it all. After three hours we were worn out, and we used our last shred of energy to buy the hardcover catalogue of the museum from the bookstore.
The best part about getting worn out in Paris is.... there's always a cafe nearby to recuperate in!
Paris: l'Oisive Tea
Yes, I am on vacation, so no new art. But I can share some recent small Paris treasures we have found!
One of my favorite things to do while traveling is track down little off-the-beaten path places. l'Oisive The is a tea house I read about on a blog a few weeks ago. I had never explored this particular neighborhood called La Butte aux Cailles and I am always looking for new places to love in Paris, so we launched out in the light rain, arm in arm under Nowell's umbrella.
I was thrilled when the tea house was even better than expected - it's quiet and cozy, and the owner is a friendly American woman. I have to say, after 6 weeks in Paris it was really nice to order in English! Nowell and I sampled some of the homemade treats, I had an amazing scone hot out of the oven, and the first one was so good I ordered a second right away. We shared a big pot of Lotus Royal tea, steeped with a large sachet hand-tied around the top of the teapot. The combination of the tea, the gentle rain outside, the soft downtempo music and decor of charming flowered tablecloths put us in a happy mellow mood.
The neighborhood is a real find too. It looks like a little village with cobblestone streets, bistro restaurants, tiny markets, and dotted with people walking small dogs and parents walking their small children home from school.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Paris: Fois Gras
More art coming soon..... my plans to paint in the Luxembourg gardens have been delayed by rain, but the sun is scheduled to shine again later this week.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Paris: Louvre sketch: Reni Hercules
Luckily my husband loves museums too, so he was content to wander alone while I worked on this sketch.
I love this painting, how the ribcage feels like a heavy living mass of bone and connective tissues, sagging and stretching within a flexible network of skin and muscle barely holding everything together. The pelvis and ribcage are resenting their connection by the spine, each urging towards their own expression. The belly is only an afterthought, no intention of its own, merely subject to other forces. The limbs are all secondary, the gesture is complete in the torso.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Paris: Louvre Sketch after Pajou
I brought Nowell to the 18th century French sculpture wing of the Louvre today. It was fun to watch his jaw drop as we rounded the corner into the Puget Courtyard, full of the examples of the pinnacle of figurative sculpture. He was content to roam around filming for a while I worked on this sketch.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Paris: Musee Rodin
Nowell and I spent the afternoon at the Rodin Museum in Paris. It currently has an excellent exhibit on Camille Claudelle, Rodin's mistress who was an accomplished a sculptor as Rodin. This life-size figure group is outdoors in the gorgeous garden of the museum.
Nowell recreated a picture we took six months ago at Philadelphia's Rodin Museum:
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Paris: Medici Fountain
Every time I come to Paris I visit Marie de Medici's Fountain, tucked away in a corner of the Luxembourg Gardens. The first time I drew this fountain was exactly 20 years ago, when I was 16 and in Paris for the first time. Maybe I can track down that old sketchbook and post my first drawing of the sculpture.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Paris Blog Love
In San Francisco I am very healthy - I exercise a lot and eat low-carb/high protein/high fiber every day, I go to bed early and get up after a full 9 hours of sleep, never drink caffeine, and I haven't been sick in a long long time. But here in Paris, I stay up late, consume croissants and chocolate and coffee as much as possible, and drink wine at LUNCH of all unhealthy habits (well, I admit I drink a lot of wine in the US, too, but rarely at LUNCH). After all that abuse, I guess I deserve to get sick. Let's hope my little rheum/cold doesn't get worse, because my husband arrives Sunday and I want to greet him at the airport looking spiffy!
Anyway, I've spent my sick-ey afternoon online, catching up on all my favorite Paris blogs and bookmarking all the places they mention that I plan to visit once I am healthy again. So I thought I'd share some of my favorite bloggers.
First off though, I have discovered something extraordinary about Google Maps. As if I didn't already have much to love about Google, they went and made their maps customizable. Yes, you can put your own pushpins on the map with your own notes, you can plan routes and share your saved maps with friends. What riches!!!
On my own Paris 2008 Google map I've marked everything from the bank ATM's that don't charge me a fee to restaurants and all the little gems of Paris I plan to visit. I can even plot a walking route and find out it is 3,216 feet from the exit of the Louvre to Le Souffle restaurant, where Dad and Andrew and I dined the other day.
How to Make Your own Google Map
Go to maps.google.com and click the little orange tab under the Google logo (I bet you've never even noticed it) which says... "My Maps". Oh la la!! From there you can save locations and mark routes and edit them to your heart's delight. (Yes, my friends and family think I am a bit obsessive about planning vacation details as I have been known to make elaborate travel maps in Adobe Illustrator... but if Google has gone to the trouble of offering this functionality, I can't be alone in my obsession, can I?) Anyway, moving on....
My Plus Favorite Paris Blogs
Polly Vous Francaise is written by a charming American expat who shares so many of my tastes I am sure she and I would be fine friends if we met.
I Prefer Paris is written by a fabulous American expat in the Marias who shares many hidden secrets of Paris and even offers guided tours.
Paris Breakfast is one I discovered back when I was doing A Painting a Day and have loved following along with her little watercolors of her various marvelous petit dejeuners in Paris ever since. What's not to like about a blogger who loves Paris and breakfast and painting as much as I do?
King Nigrito is a cute mystery man, 23 cm tall and made of leather and resembling a mouse (maybe?). He gets around and has photos of himself at his favorite spots. Very useful for me, as he happens to haunt my adopted arrondissement/neighborhood and the day after one of his posts you can reliably find a very quiet 30-something American woman in hat or scarf or both, trying not to look or sound too American, testing out King Nigritos' very seat and surreptitiously making notes in her Moleskine Paris Guide.
(You don't know what a Moleskine City Guide is? Get one now!!!)
Ok, enough blogging for today. I'm going to make some tea and watch Paris channel 135, which according to my Dad's husband Andrew has old American classic movies subtitled in French. Magnifique!!
Studio Escalier Workshop: Final Drawings
For our final week at Studio Escalier's Drawing Workshop in Paris we worked on two long poses to practice all the contour and modeling lessons we have been learning from Tim and Michelle - one pose in the mornings and one pose in the afternoons. I decided to put both my final drawings on the same sheet of paper - just a bit of extra challenge for fun.
Here's a slideshow of the stages of the drawings
I had critiques with both Tim and Michelle. Their comments were really helpful and give me a lot to work on for my future drawings:
I need to think about "packing the form" - the human body is made of irregularly shaped packed forms arranged on curves. I need to remember to define the top edges of those forms, the edges facing the light, as much as the bottom edges, the edges facing away from the light.
Also, in both these drawings I've over-modeled in the light. All the darkest shadow is on the side of the model turned way from me, so almost everything I saw was in the light. In my zeal for modeling form I made everything too dark.
I also need to practice seeing the forms arranged in fans arcing off of changes of direction on the contour.
Finally, I need to emphasize structure and solidity, otherwise my approach with soft gradation tends to look too wispy. I agree. I am not interested in making pretty drawings, I want to make strong drawings.
Not only have I learned a lot about drawing from this workshop, but also my expectations for myself have been raised in the process. I have a vision for how well I will someday be able to draw, a vision for how I could draw with a lot of practice and investigation, and it's far more developed than I ever expected of myself before.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Louvre Sketch - Hutin Sculpture
This my sketch of a small, 30-inch sculpture done by Hutin in 1744 as his final exit project to graduate from the Royal French Academy.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Studio Escalier Workshop Day 8
Day 8 of my workshop at Studio Escalier in Paris.
This is a drawing of a 6-hour pose. Yesterday for the first half I focused on the inner movement curves, the block-in, and finally the detailed contour. Tim and Michelle are teaching us to think of the contour three-dimensionally. So I am thinking of the contour wrapping around the body, moving towards and away from me.
I've taken my drawing into Adobe Illustrator and used the software to recreated my original inner movement curves to diagram the process I am learning:
As Tim teaches the technique, we draw three interrelated movements:
We start with the theme, which is the fundamental inner movement curve. The theme starts at the crown of the head, and flows down the center line of the face, down to the big toe of the standing leg, or the leg holding the most weight.
This is a precise curve, it describes specific points on the body and the relationships between these points. (In contrast to simply "expressing" the movement. This is a record of what we see and know about the body, it's not exaggeration or expressionism.)
The second line we draw (above) is the countertheme - the orange line. It's a secondary inner movement curve that travels from the top of the head, wrapping around the body the opposite direction and down the non-standing leg.
Third, we draw the ornament (above). This is the third interrelated movement. As with the theme and countertheme, the ornament wraps around the forms, moving side to side and back to front.
All of the curves wrap around the body three dimensionally. Above is the same countertheme curve, but I've created dotted segments to show where I am imagining it wrapping around the back side of the form. (I do not modify the figure to fit these curves, it's amazing the interrelations it's possible to see once you start looking this way.)
Above I've shown how adding more and more interrelated movement curves begins to describe the form. As I get more and more detailed with my contour line, I can see how every form on the body follows this wrapping helix pattern.
It's interesting to recreate the curves in Adobe Illustrator. The program creates Bezier curves that have a certain mathematical tensile force, and you have to learn to manipulate them to create flowing curves without awkward bends. The behavior of of Bezier curves is amazingly conducive to the Inner Movement Curves - it was shockingly easy to recreate the curves with the software. I have a feeling there is an implicit relationship between the cohesive, efficient, and functional forms of the body and mathematical curves.
Update added 5/03/08
Bezier was a 20th century French draftsman! Wikipedia has a great entry on Bezier curves, and near the bottom of the page you can see elegant animations for how Bezier curves are calculated.
After spending so much time on the contour, I moved on to the tonal value shading. I was surprised how quickly the value study progressed. I think learning the contour with this method gives me a deep understanding of the three dimensional figure, so flowing the light across the form is easier.
I'll end with a quote from Tim:
I agree.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Studio Escalier - Drawing Movement
I'm practicing drawings based on the "inner movement curve" method in my class at Studio Escalier, and today I really felt something click.
This drawing feels more solid, more believable than my previous drawings. I feel like I am suddenly seeing the relationships between all the parts as a whole, and feeling the three dimensionality of the pose. It has everything to do with what I studied with Ted Seth Jacobs, but Tim Stotz's emphasis on movement is making Ted's teachings come together for me. (Tim was a student of Ted's, so no wonder).
The drawing above started with this drawing of the interior lines of movement:
The first gesture lines aren't much to look at. In fact they look somewhat random and loosey-goosey. But it's actually quite precise. They correspond to very specific points I see on the body - and more importantly, the relationship between those points.
Next I started fleshing out the drawing, starting with the legs and drawing more and more inner movement curves to create the full line drawing. The outside curve of the knee has everything to do with the interior angle of the ankle. Everything wraps around and appears again in a logical place.
Once I started seeing all the relationships it became like a treasure hunt to find more. They are everywhere, all the way out to the fingertips and I am sure down to the tiniest tissue structures.
In contrast, this is the drawing I did in the morning, when I was really struggling with the concept. I think you can see it does not have the same energy as the afternoon drawing.
Studio Escalier has arranged several evenings for us to draw at the Louvre from the sculpture gallery. Tonight was the first night, and it was incredibly exciting to see all the sculptures so powerfully describing the same concepts we have been studying.
This is my drawing of a 30-inch marble sculpture by Dumont, done in 1712. It was in a room full of similar small-scale sculptures, which Tim explained were the final thesis projects which students of the 18th century French sculpture academy had to submit in order to graduate and go on to be professional sculptors. These small works represent the pinnacle of the art of figurative sculpture.
The figure has a clenched fist thrust directly at me... I don't know why I choose such a difficult view. But it made me interested to do more hand studies.
By the way, the Louvre website is amazing. I just found out you can browse the entire collection, room by room. I found the room we were drawing in today here.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Studio Escalier Drawing Workshop
These are a couple of my first drawings done at Studio Escalier in Paris this week.
Tim Stotz has us focusing on "inner movement curves" to establish the proportions, instead of using the straight-line block in. Also, we are doing 5-minute to 2-hour drawings. Both are very foreign to me after a year if doing 20-40-hour block-in drawings. But it's a good approach for me to practice and I'm enjoying a more responsive and less analytical way to draw.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Paris! A tale of ethernet cables and "veau"....
There were a few brief moments last night and today when I felt like I was in Paris - crossing the Seine over an uplit bridge as I walked home after dark last night, catching my first glimpse of that special tower which holds rank as the world's favorite keychain fob. But mainly it's been a maze of hunting down the closest Monoprix grocery store and returning to my apartment to repeatedly enter a 30-digit passcode into what I have come to believe is an imaginary "wireless" connection. Thus the cord.
But eventually I got myself trussed safely back into the various virtual networks I need to feel sane (and connected to my painfully far away husband) and finally I was able to relax and start feeling the Paris vibe.
And now I'd like to sing the praises of Monoprix.... a store that is the prettiest, most compact and city-fied Walmart you'll every see. I bought a travel sewing kit, asparagus, kelloggs brand cereal, a grid-ruled notebook, proscuitto, and a polka dot scarf, among other things. If I were so inclined I also could have bought baby girl dresses, plastic picnic ware, a sack of croissants, and the entire Neutrogena line of skin care products. I restrained myself, at least for now.
When the groceries were put away in my microscopic fridge I went to a cafe around the corner for dinner and and despite the goofy dancing tomato logo on the awning the food was divine: I had "veau" which I need to look up because I don't even know what kind of meat I was eating, but it was sooo good, tender meat on a t-bone with a creamy sauce. Had that along with a carafe du vin bordeaux and finished it all off with mousse au chocolat which unexpectedly had little chips all over the top which at first I thought were chopped nuts but turned out to TOFFEE and wow... if there is ever a proper topping for chocolate mousse it is little bits of toffee.
So, now I feel like I am here :)
Oh, and the apartment I rented is just lovely - artsy and quirky as only the french can manage, the owner has decorated with tiny antique chests and huge gold-framed mirrors paired with modern reflective tile in the bathroom and kitchen, with pickled white hardwood floors throughout. Very cute, very eclectic. Buddahs and framed oil paintings and weird little lamps on doilies abound. And a tiny 6-inch window above the bed, just big enough to crack open and let in a tiny whiff of damp Paris nighttime air, the best air on the planet in my humble opinion.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Belgrave Ave Plein Air SOLD
Today my friend Janell and I set up for side-by-side plein air painting. We painted in the neighborhood up the hill from my house, called Ashbury Heights. This yellow house sits on a sharp corner, where one fork of the street goes downhill and one goes uphill. My favorite part of the composition is the shadow the streetlamp cast on the pavement.
The weather here was amazing today, almost 80 degrees and clear skies, which is very unusual for us this time of year. Unfortunately, the 10-day weather.com report for Paris predicts clouds, showers and high-50's there for the foreseeable future. So my plein air painting opportunities may be limited!
Friday, April 11, 2008
Michael Grimaldi: Final Notes
Artists Referenced
The New Objectivists
Menzel, Kollowitz - responses to the breaking down of Victorian society because of WWI and the sinking of the Titanic. In these extreme situations, codes of chivalry and honor were broken and violated the previous conception of human dignity.
Ernest Meissonier
Successful artist of the late 19th century. Fell out of favor because his paintings came to represent something people no longer believed in.
Edwin Dickenson
Jules Bastien-Lepage
Gerard Richter
Antonio Lopez Garcia
Ann Gale
We talked about the current exhibit on view at Hacket Freedman here in San Francisco. I asked for Michael's interpretation for how it's possible to see such amazing drawing ability in Ann Gale's work when it's impossible to see any edges - all the shapes are dissolved, so I can't understand how I can feel so moved by the drawing. What is drawing without edges and shape, especially when her values and hues are so compressed? Michael feels that it's because her proportion of masses are so accurate - for example the way the hands fall in the lap of a figure so convincingly. He says her precision of drawing is like Sargent, where the actual strokes seem abstract but our brains complete even the edges that aren't delineated.
Book Recommendation
The Practice and Science of Drawing by Harold Speed
On Painting
Paint large to small, dark to light. Painting is stacking smaller and smaller and lighter and lighter shapes. Capture variations of hue, value and chroma, faceting as we move across the form.
Start in 2 dimensions - block in the color with faceted patches of paint like we block in the drawing. Slowly transition into 3 dimensional form.
Anything we know use to confirm what we see.
All of our decisions are optical i.e., paint what you see, not what you think you know. However, we can't paint what we don't know to look for.
Even when focusing on one particular area, don't zone in, look at everything.
"You don't finish a painting, a painting finishes you."
(As always, these are my interpretations of Michael's words, and I can't say if he would agree with everything as I have written it here.)
Michael Grimaldi Workshop: "Curiosity"
11 x 14
Oil on panel
Graphic composition in neutral values
Michael's favorite word is "curiosity". He feels an artist must be truly curious to evolve, and must be interested enough to pursue ideas, technique and personal expression in whatever direction moves us. He has no adherence to "the way to paint" and encourages students to develop their own methods. He references artists and art movements and films and philosophers constantly.
I am not very happy with my final painting. Today, the last day, I was rushing to complete the "final pass" of the painting, and to my dismay I find after looking at the photos of the stages that I like earlier versions better. But Michael's process and technique are with me, and I'm looking forward to doing a series of painting this summer to try to get better at the technique.
Next Tuesday I fly to London, and Thursday I take the Chunnel to Paris! I'll have my laptop and will be bloggiing while I study with Studio Escalier, so stay tuned. (Please sign up for my RSS feed or email notifications in the upper right column on this page to be notified when I update my blog.)
At Studio Escalier we will be working in the historic studio of the Romantic painter Gericault. When I was a student in Paris in 1992, I had a free pass to the major art museums of Paris (that's France for you - "les etudients des beaux arts" are allowed in museums for FREE!). So I would jump off the bus on my way home outside the Louvre, cut the long line of tourists, and go straight to my favorite paintings whenever I wanted. Gericault's Raft of the Medusa was one of my favorites, and I often went to the Louvre just to see it.
If I could have known that 15 years later I would be returning to Paris to study figure drawing in Gericault's very own studio I would not have believed it.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Michael Grimaldi Workshop: "Tight"
With the method Grimaldi is teaching us, this block-in line drawing is done in vine charcoal directly on the canvas panel, based on the thumbnails we composed yesterday. Eventually we'll do the final painting directly over our charcoal line drawing.
My favorite Grimaldi quote so far:
"The goal is to be tight, that's what we're going for. What we are not going for is to be uptight."
I really like that. Made me think a lot about that word, "tight".
"Tight" was the worst thing you could call an artist or a piece of art in my art school. "Don't be tight" and "loosen up" were the phrases drilled into us, and then we drilled them into each other. If you really hated someone's artwork, you'd say they were "too tight"; it was the most cutting critique.
It's interesting to now be part of an art world where it's ok to be "tight". The idea is that by practicing being precise and highly controlled, you learn to see the most subtle variations of value, color, form and proportion with a high degree of sensitivity - and you can always loosen up later. But the horror story repeated over and over back in my art school days was that if you practiced being tight you risked being unable to ever loosen up again. It reminds me of what mothers tell their children: "Don't make that face or it might get stuck like that."
I still don't know where I stand on it. I love seeing the expressive hand of the artist, the juicy brushstrokes and scritchy scribbles. I also love refined sensitivity and precision. I like to think there can be a happy marriage of the two. Tight but not uptight.