Easter in the Studio

Easter was quiet at our house. We shared a nice breakfast and the newspaper, and spent time putting together our gear for an upcoming trip.  Then later in the afternoon I decided to play around with adapting a photo I took and altered from our 2016 trip to Yellowstone.  I had a couple goals: to play around with the colors and composition, and to use up a 12x24 inch piece of watercolor paper that had been prepped a couple years ago, but never used. 

So, I did this all in one go, with acrylic paint and fairly large brushes.  It's certainly more dramatic than the original photograph was.

I think I've worked out enough in my mind to try the same subject in oil on canvas later.

(Somewhat) Loose Moose

11x15 inches, acrylic and crayon - "Loose Moose"

The last few weeks I have been watching YouTube video demonstrations by artist Robert Joyner, a man I met at Dillmans a few years ago. Joyner has a friendly and low key personality, and a loose and energetic style of painting that appeals to me very much. He teaches classes, and has a series of "how to" videos that he recently began providing for free. Free - that is pretty much a dream come true for me.

At any rate, I decided to paint over a failed abstract, and attempt a looser style than usual, using larger than my usual brushes, not much concern for realistic color, more layers, some scribbled crayon work.  While I thought I was looser while working on this guy, once he was finished, I didn't think he looked especially loose.  Still.  I like him well enough.

More Loose Drippy Trees

acrylic on paper, 12x12 inches

More drippy trees.  This one is much smaller than the previous one, and I am enjoying playing with different color combinations.  

The other thing I've been experimenting with is putting on a finishing coat of cold wax medium, which I apply pretty much as I do when I (rarely) wax the car.  I apply a thin top coat, let it dry, then buff it with a cloth.  The result punches up the colors a bit, and has a nice satin shine.  The only drawback I can see is that I can never paint over the top of the waxy finish.  I think I'm OK with that, though.

Shadow Trees

I generally draw and paint either from direct observation or with a photograph as reference, but I had a desire to try a technique for working from imagination that I have seen Robert Burridge demonstrate.  He sometimes flings wet and juicy acrylic paint at his paper, lets it drip, then uses negative painting to simplify and define shapes. 

That's what I have done here.  It's hard to tell from the photo, but there are layers and layers of colors in the trees - transparent greens and blues, scarlets, purples.  Along the way I sometimes stopped to add little sky holes, or break up wet paint with splashes of rubbing alcohol.  It was very messy. 

Burridge has a demonstration video where he uses an opaque yellow to paint around the tree shapes.  I wouldn't choose yellow as a first choice, but I decided to give it a go, and was happy with the results.

I suspect I'd need to do lots of these to become more comfortable with the process and with creating convincing tree shapes.  But for now, this has gone a long way toward getting me out of my recent creative funk.

New Work in Progress

The larger painting, of a girl on horseback, is new, and I can't decide whether to fiddle more with it or not.  My original intention was to paint something quite flat and simple.  I experimented with drawing first in red paint and letting that show a bit, then really simplifying both figures.  Neither ended up as stylized as I hoped, but when the girl had less of a face I was very uncomfortable. I used an old snapshot of my youngest sister as a point of departure, but I didn't want the final painting to be a portrait of a specific person, but rather a more generalized image.  Poor thing - her face has been painted over several times.  I think she'll just have to hang out in the studio until I decide what to do next.

Steady Gaze

8x10 inches, acrylic

Oh good grief, I have been so sick sick we got home from Mexico.  Bronchitis, that led to such violent coughing that I lost my voice.  It's only now that my vocal cords are starting to work again.  The sound ain't pretty, but I can make myself understood, and the coughing is slowing subsiding.

So, yesterday I felt good enough to go to the studio and get out the acrylic paint.  My goal was to paint much looser than usual, something a little wild and colorful.  I rather like this lady, though I think I can push the loose and abstract look even more.  

Time will tell.

Thinking Big - Er

It's funny how circumstances can conspire to point a person in a new direction.  I have always liked abstract art, admired the ambiguity, the boldness, and the grand scale of paintings by people like Mark Rothko, Richard Diebenkorn, Franz Kline, or Helen Frankenthaler.  Last winter and early spring I found myself reading books about Abstract Expressionists, and my fascination increased.  So, I decided to take a chance and sign up for a class in abstract painting taught by Emmett Johns, at the Peninsula Art School in Fish Creek, Wisconsin, two hundred miles north of my home.

I had admired Johns' paintings for years, and over Memorial Day weekend I dropped in to his studio to look at his work again, chat with him, and get a feeling for what a class with him might be like.  I felt optimistic after that, and went home to read, gather together materials and make arrangements for the four day class.  It was last week, and I am recovering nicely, thank you.

Emmett Johns is a fine painter, and an amiable man.  Peninsula Art School is a well appointed facility, conveniently located 10 minutes from my brother and sister-in-law's house, where I get to stay and socialize.  The class was comprised of a good mix of men and women, a range of ages, and as far as I could tell, all people of good will.  However, at the end of four days I had a pitifully small pile of pitifully small nonrepresentational abstract work - far less than anyone else.  This is not me being self-deprecating. I speak truth.

What happened?  I am still mulling it over, and have lots of questions.  Am I just too timid?  Are the physical movements too unfamiliar to me, working on a much larger scale?  Am I too parsimonious, too cheap with my materials?  Am I disoriented by an unfamiliar environment with people talking around me, my paints and brushes hiding in new places?  Is it a combination of all these factors?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes.

I should know by now that I process and implement ideas incrementally, often over months and even years after a workshop.  It has happened before, and probably will again. But still, I felt bad, like I made a bad showing.  Gotta get over that, and gotta play more with working larger, even if it means working on the basement floor sometimes.

These are a few photos of Emmett going to work on a demonstration piece, painted with acrylic, on a large piece of rag board (mat board).  The final piece looked nothing like what I thought it might, and was more attractive than my photo indicates.

Silly Chickens

I recently was feeling the need to re-purpose some wimpy old watercolors, so I dug into the "recycle" stash and covered a couple with gesso, then felt free to play.  This started out with lots of layers of yellow ochre, nickle gold, some blue stenciling and I don't know what all. Then I used vine charcoal to draw the birds, fixed that, then layered some thin veils of white over the top, and added some splashes of red.

Fun.

11x14 inches, acrylic on paper

The 24 Hour Theatre/Art Festival

My contribution to UW Rock County's 24 Hour Theatre/Art Festival

When Alicia Reid, owner of Janesville's Raven's Wish Gallery/Studio told me about an upcoming theater/art festival, I was intrigued.  So I emailed U-Rock associate professor Zac Curtis for the details about the art part of the event.

Artists were to show up at 7 P.M. Friday at the campus theater, where they would be given a theme and a challenge.  Then they would return to campus with the art by 4 P.M. so it could be displayed before the theater, dance, vocal and instrumental music and poetry part of the evening.  Attendees could browse the art, bid for it in a silent auction, then take home their purchase at the end of the evening.  From my standpoint, it was nice because there was no entry fee, and I could set a minimum bid for my art - or even not sell it at all if I chose.  Artists also were given complimentary tickets for the performance, which proved to be both interesting and entertaining. It helped to keep in mind that everyone was under an extreme time limit, and that the stated goal for the evening was to try out new ideas and take risks.

Here was the challenge given to artists:

Art my be any size and any medium.  You will use your own materials, and be asked to sell your piece through silent auction and the opening gala.  You will be allowed to set your own minimum bid if you would like.  You will be given the option to indicate that you would like to donate your sale back to the UW Student Theatre Association if you would like.

Theme - Truth and Lies

Challenge - As a primary element of your art, you must use a recycled or repurposed material.  This may be either an element of your art itself, the frame, or the "canvas" you create your art on.  You must use at least one material from the items provided.

The items provided were varied indeed - boxes of nuts and bolts, stacks of record albums, glass vases, plastic fruit, old photos, old books, containers of glass "jewels," an old house shutter, metal screening, a bird cage, and so on.  I was thrilled to find a couple of vintage textbooks to use for collage elements in my painting.

I decided to collage pages from an old practical math text on a 16x20 inch canvas I got for a song at my favorite local second hand store.  Then I wrote out as many little white lies as I could think of:

I'll call your tomorrow; your table will be ready soon; I love you too; you look just fine; I see what your mean; we took him to a nice family in the country; that fish was ten feet long; officer, I had no idea I was going that fast....  You get the idea.  Then I just painted ambiguous looking portrait of a person who may have uttered, or been hurt by, white lies.  Finally, I used the textbook pages and cut out letters which spelled out "white lies." 

So, the piece was started at about 9 A.M., finished by about 2:30, varnished, wired, and delivered by 4 P.M.  I was exhausted.

But the evening was fun, and the piece sold at a price a student might afford.  Can't ask for more than that.

Twilight Zoning

Invaders, 5x7" acrylic

It's winter, and I am in hibernation mode.  I'm not alone; I went out to K&W Greenery a couple days ago to visit the koi and sit in a warm greenhouse with lots of green tropical plants.  The koi are definitely moving slowly these days.  In the summer they swarm to the surface of the water for fishy treats, but they couldn't be bothered to do anything more than slowly fan the water and roll their eyes up toward me.  I can identify with that.

Winter finds me reading for hours, researching this and that online, and sitting in front of the wee television in my studio watching programs I have recorded.  The other night I had a half hour to kill, and I decided to watch one of my stash of saved Twilight Zone programs.  It turned out to be The Invaders, from the show's second season.  Agnes Moorehead plays a woman alone in a rustic cabin, terrorized by tiny spacemen.  It was gripping.  She never says a word, just wanders from dark room to attic with a candle and often a knife or an axe, determined to save herself.  The twist at the end was not surprising to me now because I've seen so many of these programs, but I'm sure when it aired it was a shocker.  What really appealed to me was Moorehead, how well she portrayed both her fear and her determination to survive.  I went back and played the program a second time, pausing occasionally to sketch her face or posture in the dramatic lighting.  This little acrylic painting came from those sketches - though I omitted the axe she held in the original shot.  Her expression is creepy enough. 

Digger - Finished at Last

8x8 inches, acrylic on canvas board

I finally finished this little painting this afternoon, well into autumn, despite the summery theme.  I follow other blogs sporadically, mostly other art-related blogs, but also one called Old Picture of the Day.  A black and white photo of a child holding a pail and shovel came up last summer and I was charmed by the posture of the figure, and curious too.  Is the figure a boy or a girl? What has captured his or her attention out there in the water?  What are the plans for that pail and bucket? 

Anyway, I had the drawing done back in August, and it sat and sat, until I decided I had to either paint it or gesso over the drawing and do something else.  My initial intention was to gild the background, as I had done with a couple other paintings the same size and shape.  But then, as I played with the colored I imagined for the water, I gradually got to like it the way it was. So I have decided this will just sit on my shelf as it is, reminding me that summer will come again.

Vintage Series, Continued

8x8 inches, acrylic on canvas board

The past couple days here in southern Wisconsin have been pleasant, in the 80s, and the result for me was a feeling of enthusiasm and energy that I haven't experienced in weeks.  Encouraged by results on the old photos from my stash, I decided to take a stag at this boy on a pony.  The tiny black and white photograph was obviously snapped on our family farm, and since my grandfather saved it until his death in the 1970s, I assume the child is a relative, I'm guessing Grandpa's older brother John's son.  It looks to me like the boy's outfit is from the 1920s, which would be about right for that family.

I decided to do a series of these photos, all the same size, on inexpensive canvas board from the local hobby store.  I gesso the boards first to fill in the rough texture a bit, and to just get over my hesitation at making a first mark.  Then I drew in the figures, and built the images up layer by layer.  This time I experimented with a slow dry medium added in to the acrylic.  It seemed to give the paint a bit longer before it dried, and gave me the ability to thin each color a bit, improving the application, and allowing me to glaze.

I intend to apply gold leaf to the background, just as I did with the panting of the girl with the rabbits.  I may also go into this with some colored pencil, perhaps add some shading in blues or violets.

Girlfriends

5x7 inches, acrylic on paper

It has been such a hot summer, I find myself combing through old photos of people sunbathing, swimming, in boats, and fishing.  I certainly haven't been doing these things.  These two girls were high school friends of my mother's, and I decided to try to depict them.  This was supposed to be the under painting, with color added later, but I think I'll leave them as they are for now.  Or maybe I'll try another version in color later.  I suppose there's no reason to rush a decision.  In the original photograph, which is small, in black and white, they sit in front of dark foliage, so that their hair blends into the background.  I decided to eliminate the trees and just emphasize the young women.  Somehow they speak to me of pleasant summer days spent with friends.

Happiness
by Joyce Sutphen

This was when my daughters were just children
playing on the rocky shore of the lake,

their hair in braids, their bright-colored jackets
tied around their waists. It was afternoon,

the shadows falling away, their faces
glowing with light. Whatever we said then

(and it must have been happy; it must have
been hopeful) is lost as I am now lost

from that life I lived. This was when nothing
that I wanted mattered, though all I wanted

was happiness, pure happiness, simple
as strawberries and cream in a saucer,

as curtains floating from a window sill,
as small pairs of shoes arranged in a row.

A Week in Lac du Flambeau

My husband and I just returned home to an extremely welcoming cat last night after a week spent four hours north in Vilas County.  Back in March when I was dreaming about which art workshop I might take this year, I discovered that Dillmans Resort was hosting acrylic painter Robert Burridge at the end of September.  I had taken a watercolor workshop there back in 1997, right after my best friend died of a brain tumor at the age of forty-seven. She had been a good painter and a fine potter, and I decided after her death that I would not wait until I retired to start making my own art.  So, I signed up for a week long class, and went on my own.  While the instructor was compassionate and skillful, the facilities wonderful, I was lonely and overwhelmed by everything I didn't know.  I cried alone in my cabin at night in frustration at my lack of painting skill and grief at the loss of my friend, but knew that some day I wanted to come back.

This time was different. I have more painting skills, know what to pack and what to leave home, know that my best work will come after the workshop, not during it.  This time my husband came along.  I convinced him that the colors would be at their peak, that he could bicycle all day while I was in class, that we could go out on Sand Lake, listen to loons, watch for eagles, and eat out at the "up north" supper clubs at night. And I was excited about learning more about painting with acrylics from Robert Burridge.  I can't remember how I discovered his web site about three years ago, but I had been reading his newsletter, taking notes, and I liked his energy and style.

We rarely had the opportunity to gravel north during peak colors when I was teaching.  Usually we couldn't get away until late October, and by then the leaves had fallen from the trees.   This time the colors were good at the beginning of the week and magnificent by the time we left on Friday.  The area is pretty quiet now that the weather is cooler and children are in school.  Most of the week was cool and there was some rain every day but one, but we could still hear the loons calling in the morning and at dusk, and my husband still rode his bike part of each day.

A couple of times we made coffee early, and went down to one of the piers for some quiet time.

We could hear the loons, and saw them a couple times.  I took this photo when the painting group went out for a pontoon ride on the Sand Lake.

Wednesday was the clearest day, so we made a point of watching the sunset over the lake just outside our lodging.

But of course the point of the week for me was to learn from a painter I admire, to acquire and polish my painting skills, to be energized and inspired, and to have a good time.  That last point is important, and is one reason I chose to spend my time and cash on this particular instructor.  More than once I have regretted setting aside time and money to take a class from a person whose work I did not end up admiring, or whose planned activities were not what I had expected based on the class description.  Once or twice I have taken workshops from instructors who had obvious disdain for the students, who appeared bored themselves, or who spent the entire time painting art that was not so much a demonstration as simply time spent to produce a painting the artist hoped to sell to someone in class.  There needs to be a balance between lecture/observation, and student work time and critique. From what I had read on his website and newsletter over time, from what I had seen on YouTube, and from the recommendations of other art bloggers whose opinions I respect, I thought Burridge's Loosen Up With Aquamedia class would be worth my investment.

In Bob Burridge's August Artsy Fartsy newsletter he has a checklist of things people who teach and mentor young people should strive for in their instruction, and I'm borrowing from that newsletter here, because these are the things that I look for in a teacher for myself.

Discard everything that is unnecessary.

Aim to be simple.

Relax, abandon yourself. Fear nothing.

Compress time. Aim at succeeding, don't waste an instant.

Don't take yourself seriously.

Don't hurry, don't rest.

Use self-humor.

Don't be afraid to be a little foolish.

Have endless patience.

If faced with overwhelming odds, occupy time with something else.

Have endless capacity to improvise.

Bring abstract ideas to concrete form.

Assume that students enjoy learning.

Believe that children (any learners - my word choice) are perfect, and we're just building on their strengths.

Support everything with a visual aid.

Insure no possible way to fail.

A teacher must be upbeat and positive.

If the goal is only to learn facts, then we lose the chance to know that learning is very exciting.

Bob Burridge is certainly an entertainer and self-promoter, but under jokes and a light approach, he has real skill and passion as a painter, and a temperament that allows for and embraces a wide variety of personalities and skill levels in his workshop participants.  He is organized, patient, and comes with many examples of painting approaches and printed handouts for students to take home and read after the class has finished.  

All that, and he plays good music too.

I hope I can internalize some of his philosophy, move ahead with my artwork, and take another class from him in the future.

I would love to hear from other people who take art workshops. Who are some instructors who have made a powerful positive impression on you?  What qualities do you look for in an art teacher for yourself?

Virtual Paintout: New Zealand

5x7 inches, acrylic on paper

I took a break from ravens this afternoon to participate in this month's Virtual Paintout.  I realized once I virtually "drove" all over the southern island, that (1) lots of the country is very rural, (2) most of the coastal areas get lots of rain, clouds, and fog while the interior is sunnier, and (3)  there are vast areas that are much flatter than I ever imagined.  I had some sort of Hobbit-land in my mind when I went searching for something to paint.  

I was interested in this month's paintout in particular because I know a little about a fellow reader who lives in Christchurch, where she and her husband have suffered through months of earthquakes, seemingly every week.  I pay attention to the news from there now, which is one good way the internet is bringing people of the world closer together.

New Series - Thinking Small

3x3 inches acrylic on Tyvek synthetic paper

As much as I have been enjoying working with collage, I am setting that aside for a couple weeks to work on a series of small paintings for a show of miniature art in Door County.  None of the paintings, drawings, or wee prints will be more than 25 square inches.  I had requested information about the annual show last year, hadn't heard anything for months and months, then got a nicely organized packet of material at the beginning of March.  So, I found myself painting on  4x4 inch scraps of Tyvek, and using techniques I usually save for larger paintings.  This first try was painted from a photo I clipped from a source I no longer remember.  I liked the girls' body language, and their simple shapes, important when working so small. I didn't even try to add details on their suits, or even details of their faces.

3x3 inches, acrylic on Tyvek

This one was adapted from a black and white snapshot I had of my mother and aunt, probably taken about 1940.  Again, I avoided trying to create an actual portrait, instead concentrating on making simple shapes, suggesting autumn with my color choices.  I also worked to have the girls be the obvious center of interest, their faces framed by the ropes of the swing, the strongest colors reserved for them.

3x3 inches, acrylic on Tyvek

This is the painting I finished today.  The girl was cropped from a photo I took on a trip to Punta Cana.  It is becoming very clear to me that the simpler the shapes, the better these little paintings are.  I took the trouble to make a little value study first, concentrating on getting a good range of values.  Once I transfer the sketch to the Tyvek, which I coat with gesso first, then I do a an under painting of complementary colors - very gaudy.  After that I go back and put in the local color, leaving bits of the complementary colors peeking through for added punch. 

I'm excited by this project of miniature paintings, having fun choosing reference material from my trip photos and family stash.  I may do one of my brother-in-law's uncles ice fishing, but I'm not sure I can leave these sunny scenes for a day on a frozen lake - even in paint.

Virtual Paintout: The SF Bay Area

Here's my February contribution to The Virtual Paintout.  The original plan was to paint this in water mixable oils, but I joined a group of painters on Thursdays in a nearby town, and wanted to haul it there today for feedback - so, I used acrylics.  My impression from a couple visits to the city by the bay is of lots of color, and I wanted that to come through here.  The original screen capture from Google Street View isn't very clear, so I did some guessing.  I'm not sure the painting is ready for prime time, but it was fun exploring San Francisco and putting this together.  The painting features both figures and architecture, each of which is a challenge for me.

Of Art and Hardware

I painted this little acrylic last autumn when the trees were at their most colorful best.  I liked the way the roof of the bus station contrasted with the red leaves, and I have always been a sucker for old-time signs.  One of my favorite ways to waste time is to go down to my local Ace hardware and pick up cleaning supplies, or paint, or glass for framing.  While I wasn't thrilled with my lettering in this painting, I was flattered and pleased to get an email from a man yesterday requesting permission to put the image on his website.

John Mcvey comes from a family whose living is made in the hardware store business.  His website is an ode to hardware, in his town and everywhere.  I was fascinated to browse through his site, a collection of all things hardware.  My favorite part has hardware related articles, poems, stories, photos and artwork.  I think I could have as much fun browsing through his online collection as I have considering which drawer pulls might be candidates for updating my bedroom dresser, or dreaming about which paint chip would be just perfect to brighten the studio.  On cold days like this (it's below zero this morning) it sure it warmer than going out.

Here's the link if you would like to see:

http://jmcvey.net/hdwe/literature.htm

Another Poem and The Ace Hardware

12 x 12 inches, acrylic on canvas board

I was excited about how the last acrylic painting turned out, so I launched into another last night. One thing I like about Janesville is some of the old-fashioned signs in town. This one is huge, rising over the old hardware store that is one of my favorite places to shop. There is another over a downtown jewelry store, though the wonderful neon diamond on that sign blew down in a storm a few years ago. I painted the neon sign on front of our venerable Chinese restaurant (the oldest in Wisconsin) a few years ago, although I'd like to paint it again, larger, and in acrylic. My problem is that I don't manage to paint buildings and lettering especially well. If I practiced more on it I'd probably improve, but I suppose I'm too lazy to paint something, then write it off as "practice."

Tree Cutting

by Hanne Gauls, in the 2009 Wisconsin Poets Calendar

The county Artillery

lined the corner

of Timberline

and Europe Bay Road

declaring war

on enemy trees

obscuring the view

of highriding SUVs.

Bloody branches

spattered the road

winded trees

stretched their

injured stumps

yellow eyes egging

for their missing limbs.

Rain on the Pumpkins

12x12 inches, acrylic on canvas board

I'm still playing with the techniques I was introduced to in last week's workshop. I see now that the pavement needed an orange under painting, but this will have to stand as it is. I photographed the scene a couple days before Halloween, when we were out looking for pumpkins to carve. It was drizzly and cool, and everything was wet.