Sunday, April 20, 2008

Time and Timeless





From the top-
  • Gnomon - oil on panel, 19"x28"
  • (a detail closeup)
  • Study for Gnomon - oil on linen, 8"x10"
  • A side by side look at the larger piece with most of the underpainting showing and the study.
The study was done en plein air at Two Lights State Park alongside my good friend Meghan (it started raining on us at the end, so the foreground never really got resolved). I was attracted to this rock's shape, as it reminded me of the triangular piece that casts the shadow for a sundial. That piece is called a gnomon. There was a contrast here, as there is a timelessness to the place: an incessant beating of water on rock for eons. Yet the shape of this rock is reminiscent of a device crafted for a human scale of time. After looking at the study for a while, I felt it demanded a grander scale in paint.

Working this way generally gives the best results, as it allows for a lot more of an innate understanding of the subject. That is, I painted it once, so it can only get better if I paint it again. A lot of passages are so familiar, though they are on a larger scale. Color choices have already been made in the study, so that's an easy thing to deal with. The palette was limited: raw umber (always!), ultramarine blue, cadmium orange, ivory black, titanium white, some indian yellow for effects in the seaweed, and a touch of viridian for the trees on the distant island. So it was mostly about pushing value and warm/cool as a point/counterpoint.

You'll notice in the study that the rock is more truncated than in the big piece. That's because I had to fit it into the panel, as the panel dimensions didn't really accommodate the shape that well. I rectified that in the large piece with some photo reference, to which I applied a grid for drawing purposes. Sorry I didn't get a photo of that aspect, but I referred to it only for the sake of the underpainting and layout. The contrast, values and colors of the photo were so unlike the study, that it was only useful for shapes and detail. Just shows that there is no substitute for painting from life.

I had a little bit of difficulty in the near foreground with the rocks and tidepools. I didn't want any of that to detract from the big rock, so I tried to shift the hue to a cooler state, as well as pattern the clinging seaweed (the most saturated color) to lead the eye up to the rock. It took some doing, but I think I achieved what I wanted. This may not seem like a virtuoso feat of painting in the grand scheme, but for me, this was one of my biggest efforts in a long time in terms of size and dedication.

Of course, it's way more fun to look at this in person. Come on by and visit me, and take a look!

Friday, April 18, 2008

Hopes and Dreams


She Dreams - oil on panel, 5" x 8.25".

This is a very recent piece, and it is very important to me, despite its small size. It is an allegory of hope, of facing one's fear, of dreaming, of looking to the future. Here's a rare thing: I am not ready to part with this, even though I've had interested buyers. Not yet.

You see, as I've said (and as I've posted) in this blog, I feel very strongly about the figure, and I want it to be a bigger part of my oeuvre. One might look at this blog and ask, "Well, isn't it?" No, it's not so much. I'm torn in too many directions. My full time position demands professionalism and skill, but gives no room for personal creativity. Nevertheless, I am compensated well enough to keep me there - more out of necessity than anything else. My art outside the commercial realm is now in flux: do I keep painting the landscape so that I maintain a salable portfolio, or do I return to the figure and fulfill a more personal ambition with a less-than-salable series of works? I have a solid history of selling landscapes, so I'm aware of what the buying public prefers (from me, anyway).

[I should note here: models need to get paid. It's an expensive proposition. It's not like a photographer who can do a TFP trade - that is - time for prints. As wonderful as the model may be, I can't give her the painting! Maybe some painting lessons? Time for Teaching?]

Why be so concerned with selling? Practically speaking, some extra money always helps. And there's that dream of one day making a living from doing my own work as opposed to completing someone else's. Yes, yes , my art is worth something to me - but does it convey what I'm trying to convey? I've always been interested in narrative, in storytelling. How can I tell if the stories or the meanings are ringing true? If someone pays good money for a painting, the investment indicates that they have gotten it - or something close to it. They are also investing their lives in it; they are going to look at the painting for a long, long time. That is the biggest deal for me - that someone would want to do that with my work. It is an important validation.

The sentiment of this painting here addresses a lot of what is said above. The funny thing is, the initial impetus for this was to not only attempt a new figurative work as a test (hence the scale), but it was also a reflection of someone else's artistic and personal journey. She faces difficult choices, as well. It was only in the midst of painting this that I realized I was in the same boat, albeit in a different career phase. It's a fairly universal sentiment, now that I think upon it, and I think the prospective buyers saw this.

Well, the test succeeded on a pictorial level, I feel, but the dreams themselves ares still being deciphered.

Meanwhile, I have to take better pictures of the latest landscape that sits happy and finished in the studio. I shall post those shots this weekend.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Charcoal = Controlled Smudging



Another drawing room session piece in charcoal with the wonderful Caribeth. This was a 20 minute pose with some enhancements after the fact. I think adding the dark tone is a plus in order to get added dimension and even a little atmosphere. Sargent did this often - and who better to try and emulate?
No drawing room this week - there's a show happening there, so I'm a little bummed. However, there are some things I could and probably will tend to in the studio Thursday night instead. I have completed a large piece, and need to properly photograph it. If I get a good shot, I'll post it here, plus a small WIP of how it came together.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Early Spring



This is Rachel, Early Spring oil on linen, 14"x17". In the detail shot you can see drawings of Rachel on the wall, and I found a scan of one of them. I think this drawing is possibly from the first session I ever had with Rachel - a drawing group at Round Top Center For the Arts in Damariscotta. She was a totally unique person in so many ways. She was rather shy and very soft-spoken, but she preferred to be without clothes, and was perfectly comfortable that way. She is an artist herself - a painter- as well as a dancer and consummate yoga practitioner. Those things combined made her one of the best figure models I've ever come across. She was also very sweet, and could be pretty silly and funny, as I found out when we got better acquainted. I should mention that she was also a gearhead, and could swap out a transmission on a Subaru faster than I could change an oil filter.
This particular painting was a kind of breakthrough for me, because it was a consummate disaster from the get-go. I had recently purchased the John Howard Sanden book on alla prima (or in his words: premier coup) painting, and I had designs to do a painting of Rachel with no study and no underpainting in one - maybe two - sessions. Like I said, it was a disaster as far as my initial idea was concerned. But I really wanted to finish this thing and make something out of it regardless. Rachel was game, so she sat for me for I don't know how many sittings. At one point I thought I was done, but coming back to the piece a few days after a session, I realized that her head was totally misaligned on the shoulders, and no amount of fancy rendering could cure it, so I sanded it out. Rachel came the next week and was totally floored that her head was gone. I repainted it, and when I was done, she told me it was the best likeness of her that she'd seen so far - and she modeled for a LOT of people. It's true, she has a unique look; what with her aquiline features and dramatically bowed lips. It was hard to capture these things without concentrated objective observation. And even though the paint surface is not what it should be, her likeness is true.
I look at this piece now, and now that I know so much more about the physical properties of oils, I can see I was very flawed in my technique here. However, it was all an important experience, and I have to thank Rachel, as she stayed with my not-quite-there-yet vision on this one. She was also a good sport in another way. Notice the leather pants hanging from the window. She showed up one day wearing these - a new purchase - and I remarked, "Look at you in your rock star pants!" She was abashed, and sought to hide her embarrassment by getting naked. That was Rachel, and that's why I had to include the pants.
For my growth as a painter, I feel that I need to re-visit this kind of painting. It's really quite difficult, and can send an artist to a new level if you can get through it. I just need the right model.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Class-ified



Two more 20 minute poses of Kelly and Caribeth, respectively.

drawing room returns this Thursday, after a week off, and I am acting monitor. I do not mind this at all, as it is vaguely reminiscent of my teaching days. And yes, I still miss those days very much. I was offered an opportunity to teach a Spring/Summer session at Sanctuary Arts, where I had taught before. Christopher, the director, told me that people were still asking abut me, even though it's been almost 2 years since I'd stopped because of my new job. I am so flattered by this - and a little sad, too, as I had to decline. Frankly, it's just too much driving. I would have had to go straight there (25 miles south) from my current job, probably have to skip dinner, and drive 50 miles home at 9:30 PM. The reason I know this wouldn't work is because I've done it before without a full time job, and it was rough. If Sanctuary was in Portland, I would surely have done it. Heck, I'd still be teaching there, period.

I also miss teaching in BFA, as well. I just loved my students. So much energy (well, some of them), and eagerness to make art the lifeblood of their existence! - it was encouraging for me, absolutely. Teaching was perhaps the only job where I really felt 100% comfortable, because I knew how to do it, somehow. I never trained as a teacher, I just tell people what I know, and if they don't get it that way, I show them. It's pretty simple, yet there were a great number of students who would come to me from other classes - students whom I did not know - and ask for my help, because they'd heard or seen the results from my students. This was kind of baffling, and I couldn't understand why or how their teachers led them astray - or, more often than not - let them do "whatever" and figure it out on their own. How could they not see that the students needed them so much? I would never, ever refuse a student help, no matter what. I may have been a little goofy with my impersonations and silly humor, but in the end, everyone knew I was serious about painting and drawing, and that I was always looking for results. The students knew this was a fair practice, because they saw that I demanded no less from my own work.

The problem with teaching was (and still is) money. I could never make enough doing it full time to support my family, and I had to take a corporate gig. Had I gone for my MFA, I would be the Chair of Illustration at NHIA in Manchester, no question. That may have been okay financially, but in hindsight, perhaps it was best I moved on when I did. And frankly, the only place where I would even consider getting an MFA is the NY Academy of Figurative Art in Manhattan. Again, with a family of 5, how could this be done? And anyway, degrees mean very little when it comes to art, with the exception of educational job positions, apparently. No one asked to see my BFA for my current job, and I work in a full-on corporate structure! All they really cared about was the work. A piece of paper for which you paid 50k (or whatever) does not a portfolio make.

I have a lot to give, and I'd love to give it. I just want there to be some livable wage involved. It seems it's too much to ask for in the medieval hierarchy of education.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Reasons For the Figure


This is Reasons For Drowning, oil on panel 14" square. I did this for the Baroque/Classical group called Initial Ascent, and it is on the CD cover of the selfsame album title.
Here, I think, is an example of how the nude can really help convey emotion. It was imperative that the dark melancholia that pervades the music of this album come across on its cover. That was my assignment. Were just the landscape and sky depicted by themselves, I think it would fall short. There would be too much room for interpretation. It would be too open-ended and vague. The nude, pronate woman nails the whole thing, however: the vulnerability, the stillness, the very fact that you are unsure if she is alive -- it is an allegory that we can connect with, because of the nature of the figure.
Too often the nude is exploited for the easy thrill/shock via sexuality. This is akin to fast food; you can taste salt and fat and sugar easily - but where is the actual food? I this instance I would ask a John Currin (use Google image search, but beware): where is the actual art? Humanity needs to be lifted up again, a la the Renaissance. That is: artists need to depict the human figure in a way that elevates it beyond the base qualities of worldly existence. This has yet to be fully explored in a 20th/21st century context. There are a bold few who have done so, but it is not enough. It should really be a new movement. Too often has the figure been denigrated, in both low and high arts. The Divine that is in the Human Spirit can be captured in art. Why are we not seeing it? We need to see it, to have hope again.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Thawing Out


This is Evendim, oil on panel 9"x12". It's in a private collection somewhere. Yes, another Tolkien name, but the scene depicts the headwaters of the Fore River, at the end section of the Fore River Sanctuary here in Portland. This is what it looks like this time of year, generally: some ragged edges of snow still waiting to melt off and freshen the brackish waters.

This winter seemed particularly long. I'm just beginning to thaw and feel the urge to paint outdoors. I'll be sure to post my successful plein air attempts here. That way, when winter returns, we can all look back at those paintings and remember that there really is a warm season in Maine!

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Where Is This?


Well, I think most Portlanders know that this is Back Cove. I mean, where is this painting? This is Anar the Golden, oil on panel 9" x 12" (I was giving things a lot of Tolkien names at the time). I sold it 2 years ago, along with a number of other paintings in a number of shows at Jameson Gallery (in its previous incarnation). This very low-res picture is the only thing I have of it. I don't know who bought it.

I've learned a couple of things from this period. One is to catalogue everything immediately. There is a whole series of pieces that I sold in one shot, and I have no reproduction whatsoever. Thankfully, I know who has them, but it would be a disturbance to him, and an expense to me were I to borrow them, take them out of their frames, photograph them, and re-frame them. I should probably do this anyway, but it could have easily been avoided. Other pieces, like the one above, are just plain gone, in a private home or office, or who knows where. I really wish I had some good photos or slides of these for my portfolio. Yes, it could have been worse, I could have lost them in a fire, like what happened to Martha, but for me it was too much rushing to get the pieces framed and into shows that robbed me of the time to properly record them. It was my fault. So the other thing I learned is: finish before the deadline, not on it.

If anyone has seen this painting, or one like it, let me know. I may need to stop by and photograph it. I'll bring a bottle of wine for your troubles.