From Sketch to Finish

Interlude, 12 x 24 inches, oil on linen

Here's a painting that I finished recently. In a previous post, I showed you the original 10~20 minute drawing done from life, and the small oil study (6 x 9 inches or so)I used to explore some color possibilities.

I worked up the final painting using the study. In the study, I used the chair and the wrought iron screen thing to anchor the two opposing corners with dark values and active shapes. While I liked these objects, I felt that they were too obvious as far as compositional devices went. I look at the painting and think, "ah, anchor devices." This is not what I want as a first reaction to my painting. After trying a few other solutions, I decided the more poetic way was to just use subtle value shifts and a few sharp directional lines. I'm pretty satisfied with this solution.

The overall color and mood is much cooler than in the study. Perhaps more melancholy also. There is a heaviness to the overall mood and I really like that. I was going after the muted, quiet mood that we see in some of Antonio Mancini's paintings.

The frame on the background wall is right smack in the center of that negative space created by the pose. I hope that looks intentional, and not because I wasn't paying attention. I tried several different positions and sizes, and kept coming back to this solution. I couldn't figure out why this appealed to me the most, but it did. So there.

Last Week's Homework

Great class yesterday! The homework was to do another monochromatic self portrait, this time in blue. Those who chose to do the first one in a cool color did this week's in a warmer tone. Everyone for the most part, had an easier time with the assignment than the first go around. Not that one painting is going to make us an expert at anything, but having one under the belt, I think people felt a little bit more relaxed and was able to shake off the jitters a bit. Much better use of the value range and simplified value structure, much less fussing with detail and paying more attention to modeling the big forms.

For mine, I used prussian blue and white. I came out looking like a thug. Hahaha~

I didn't prepare a demo, but worked on one of the students' paintings which turned into a full on demo on orchestrating an image by simplifying, abstraction, edge manipulation, tweaking the drawing to suit the composition, etc. I wanted to be overt about the thinking process behind each decision I made, the how's and the why's of each change I made, and then do it. I think it was really instructional for the students to hear the reasons for making each stroke, and see me do it, and analyze immediately afterwards whether it did what I'd hoped to do, and what consequence it had, both positive and negative.

I'm happy to say that I didn't ruin the student's painting, though what I did on it was pretty risky. I would have been really nervous about it if I didn't know this group better. The student whose painting I drastically altered is himself an accomplished painter, an old pro, so he perfectly understood what might be gained by this kind of demo even if I'd ruined his painting as a result.

Teaching is a lot easier when I feel like I'm allowed to fail spectacularly.

Painting Surfaces

Transient, 18 x 40 inches, oil on panel

In the cold and wet winter months, paintings take a lot longer to dry. I use Liquin to speed up drying time – or rather, I have Liquin on my palette but more often than not I forget about it. So if I want to work wet on dry, I have to set it aside and just leave it alone for days at a time.

When I start applying paint thicker and thicker, it takes even longer to dry in between sessions. Consequently, it takes forever to finish a painting even though the actual time spent actively on a painting isn't different from something I can do in a week in summer time.

No worries. I have other canvases in various stages of development, and I just go from one to the next. They all take forever to finish, but it's kind of nice too, to be forced to think about the next move for a long time before actually executing it. Good thing I'm not doing these on a show deadline, though~

This one is done on a gesso-primed panel, and I had such a tough time working on this surface. I guess I just don't like working on a hard, smooth surface. It's great for making tightly rendered pictures using soft brushes, or floating really thick paint around like frosting, but I am finding that the way I like to apply paint is very much dependent on canvas texture. Even when the canvas texture doesn't show (because I'm painting thick, or using a knife in a certain way) I'm always responding to how the surface grabs the paint.

It's taken me several thousand paintings to recognize this fact, which seems like a lot of mileage for a very very basic realization. I have friends who found their favorite surface way early in the game, and still continue to use it after many many years. Needless to say, they know their surfaces very well and it shows in their work.

I on the other hand, always have to learn things the hard way. I have had to try all different kinds of surfaces, and depending on how I'm painting at the time, it may or may not work well. And I don't really know if a painting fails it's because the canvas and the technique were less than optimally compatible, or I just had a bad day, or I merely wasn't understanding something.

There are just too many variables to make instant decisions about any material or technique. Add to that the fact that I'm still searching for my voice in concept, compositional approaches, stylistic considerations...

Anyhow, I don't think I'll be working on smooth surfaces for a while. Nor will I be using soft brushes much anymore. I am sure I'll come back to them and explore possibilities again at some point, but for now, I'm going back to medium textured oil-primed linen and hog bristle flats.

Class, Homework, Beer

Today was my second class. Last week I gave out homework, which was to do a self portrait with one dark color + white. The student could use any color, as long as it was dark. Basically, it's a monochromatic painting exercise and the purpose is to focus only on value. You can't rely on hue, saturation, nor temperature to make your statement, so you have to be really sensitive to value shifts. The parameters included a single, direct light source (as opposed to multiple or diffused light).

Everyone did great! I don't think anyone liked doing it – self portraits are often really difficult because we see too much of what we don't want to see in ourselves – not to mention technical challenges of painting a head that you think you know so well. But everyone was a trooper and gave real, honest effort, and I think it was really instructional.

Of course I too, had to do the homework, if only to be accountable. So the above painting is a portrait of yours truly. I used Transparent Oxide Red for my dark color. I usually have more... tired looking lower eye lids, because I usually am more tired– but I got a really good night's sleep before this portrait and I was in rare form.

The painting, however, is just average. I like to see a more stroke-y treatment, but I fussed too much and it got overworked. In order to make the "overwork" look intentional, I made it much smoother than it needed to be. Still, the values are there and that's something.

Anyway, in today's class I did a little demo/lecture on form shadow and cast shadow edges. Or so I intended. But again, I ended up trying to cram too much information in too little a time! It's so hard for me to just talk about one idea because in painting, every technical concept is related to every other. You can't talk about shadow edges and not go into exceptions to the rule, which leads to some other discussion on light effects on form or color! So I kept rambling on about this tangent or another, talking about diffraction and Sargent's five qualities of light, and high-key and low-key painting and relative value scale and so on and so forth. And really, all I wanted to talk about today was shadow edges. I feel bad taking up people's painting time - after all, we only have three hours–but I also want to give people their money's worth.

I think I just need to be more efficient in my delivery. Maybe prepare a slide lecture instead of actual demos. At least for stuff like shadow edges, I can make the point without actually painting a sphere, which takes extra minutes. Then again, how long would it take me to prepare slides for a lecture? Hours, for sure.

I think as weeks go by, things will settle to more of a routine and I can talk about specific issues as they come up. Wasn't this how it went the first time I started teaching at my old studio? I guess it was. I'm just doing it all over again.

I'll tell you one thing that doesn't need improvement. And that's the taste of cold beer after three hours of hard work. Especially when you're with a bunch of good friends!

California Wildlife

Aside from a few cows now and then, I don't paint animals much. But I do like taking pictures of them when I'm out there driving around or hiking. California has incredible diversity of wildlife, thanks to its incredibly diverse ecosystems.

The pic above was taken somewhere in the Sacramento Delta, where I took some shots of the ducks in the pond. I think that might be Mt. Diablo in the background. Unfortunately, the ducks dove underwater just as I pressed the shutter. Ah well, I never claimed to be a good photographer~





Those are Sandhill Cranes, which migrate from Oregon, Alaska, as far as Siberia (so I'm told) to spend the winter in the Sac. Delta. The evening fly-ins are spectacular. If you are near the area in the winter months, go see them. It's pretty cool. Almost makes you feel like you're in a pre-historic era. Cranes have that primordial presence.


While the cranes roost in the cornfields, other species (herons?) roost atop trees to keep safe from predators. I really like this time of the day. It's so moody and emotive.



OK, so cows aren't exactly wildlife. But when I see them I take pictures of them to add to my reference library. I like Cows. they're so... casual. It's as if they don't have a care in the world. Well for the most part they don't. Especially these pasture-raised cows. No overcrowded, disease-ridden environment for these guys. No sir, they eat grass, not corn and not ground up dead cow parts. No hormone shots are injected either. They're happy and safe.

Today's Class

This afternoon was the first day of my new figure painting class which I'm teaching at the School of Light and Color in Fair Oaks, CA. I have something like 13 students in this class, which pretty much fills up the room. I was told that the class filled up within a few days of announcement, and some of my old students were signed up. I show up today, and to my delight I see one familiar face after another...in fact, most of the class is my old crew! It was just like old times, which was great. It was as though we didn't have the absence of a year and a half, and we just slipped right back into our old routine. I'm really happy to be working with these guys again on a regular basis.

There were a few new students, and I'm glad to have them, too. All very nice people, which makes for a great vibe in the class.

I did a demo, and maybe I was too pumped up - I think I tried to cover too much. That's the problem with demos, you know? There's only so much you can show and do in a limited time, so I tend to go too fast. But that's ok. It's the first demo and I sort of wanted to do it on an overall process so that's what I did. Although I didn't get far enough. In subsequent weeks, I can do demos on more specific things like how to work with different color systems. Tonalism. Edge work. High key. Low key. Atmosphere... hey, it's like this blog, only with live demos.



The three hours went by really quickly, and it looked to me like everyone had a good first day. Not enough time to resolve a painting, but that's ok. Completing a painting isn't as important as doing and learning.

One thing I'm doing differently this time around, is I'm giving out homework! I'm having everyone do a self portrait with specific parameters such as single direct light source, and monochromatic palette. I will be doing the homework myself also, just so I can get some points across.

After class, many of us walked across the parking lot to Carmelita's, a conveniently located Mexican restaurant, and had a rounds of beer. Great conversation and rapport, just like old times. I can't wait till next week!


The paintings I put up on today's post have nothing to do with my class. Just wanted pictures, to make my post perrty, is all. They are both 6 x 8 oil sketches. I'm working with subjective color, with particular attention to edge work. Getting soft edges around the foliage in the right place and shape without looking overworked is...freakin' hard, yo.

Sorolla Book

Since Vinayak asked about books, I thought I'd mention this one...even though it's not a book on drawing.

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, as I'm sure you know, is one of the greatest painters to come out of Spain. In fact, he is often mentioned along with Sargent and Zorn as the holy trinity to many an art student. Sorolla, Sargent, and Zorn were contemporaries, and were friends, too. Imagine being in such company!

...But this post isn't about the life of Sorolla. I just wanted to talk about this book. When this book first came out in 2oo6 (I think), it sold out quickly. Typical of highly anticipated monographs, the price started to go up from $65 to $100 to $200. A year or so later, it was being sold for $1450 on Ebay! Those of us who didn't jump on it when it first came out watched in dismay as the price became unaffordable, then ridiculous.

I've actually seen it as high as $1850. I wanted this book but not that badly. I mean I have other books on his work and I can see many more online. Still, good art books are such treasures and I knew this one was really good. My guess was that once the hysteria subsided, the book would come down in price on the secondary market. Sure enough after about three years, it started to fall. I thought I'd wait and see how far it would come down. I'd be willing to pay ... I don't know, $150? Something like that.

A good friend told me that since this book is not a catalogue for a big museum show, there is a good chance that it would be reprinted. (Catalogues typically aren't reprinted) Well that would be great, I thought. I'm in no hurry, I'll just wait and see.

Sure enough, the second edition was published in 2009. And the ridiculous secondary market for this book all but disappeared. Now you can get this second edition for around $70 on Amazon. You may be able to find it for less in Europe. I bought mine from an outfit in UK, but with the shipping, it was about the same. In the U.S. St. Martin's Press is the distributor, so you're not paying an outrageous import price on this product.

Anyway, the book is beautiful and it does contain many paintings not in the other books I have. It has a wonderful chronology at the front of the book, which gives us a very good idea of his place in the art world at that time. And the paintings are awesome. If you have a chance to see these in person, do it. They will blow your mind. The sense of sunlight he imbues in these painting is just amazing. And talk about bravura brushwork! Can you say tour de force?

At $70, it's worth every penny!

Blue

Blue, 10 x 13 inches, watercolor on paper

What I like about working with watercolors is that it frees me from literal thinking. The medium has a mind of its own, and it does whatever it wants to. And because I don't have the skills to control it fully, every attempt is full of surprises.

When I'm painting with oils, I lean toward the doctrine of "there are no accidents", but with watercolor, I feel like I'm driving blindfolded, without brakes. It's nothing but accidents, happy and otherwise. And because I have no real expectations to pull off a show-able painting, I don't get frustrated. Well, not too much anyway.

The benefit is that these accidents give me new ideas about how I might abstract my oil paintings. How I might apply these ideas to further move my oil paintings away from the literal. Just how much can I deviate from the naturalistic rendition of a figure (or anything else, for that matter) and still maintain some kind of believability.


See, I think here's the key. When you start from the literal and proceed to abstract certain aspects of a painting, you are always comparing that deviation to the context of the literal (or "realistic"), so it has a tendency to look "wrong".

On the other hand, with the sloppy way I use watercolors, I start with the abstract –completely non-representational, in fact– and move toward realism, which means I can stop at any given point (unless I render everything out–which I never do) and still hang on to the abstract context.

The realistic in the context of the abstract doesn't look "wrong", but the abstract in the context of the realistic does. I'm not prepared to engage in a debate over this, but this idea seems to work for me.

I'm big on "context" if you haven't noticed already. The same idea applies to color mixing and harmony, too. I'll talk about that another time.

Oh, by the way, it just occurred to me. Remember when I was rambling on about how flesh tone can be painted any color, as long as it's in context? How about blue skin? Uh huh. I rest my case.

Some Figure Drawings

Some good ol' fashioned figure drawin's for your viewing pleasure. These are all done with charcoal pencil on paper. This one was a quick sketch done while the model was taking a break. I thought it was just a beautiful and sensual pose that was just waiting to be made into a masterpiece painting...which is yet to materialize.

The paper is 14 x 17, so it gives you an idea of how big the figures are. These are two minute poses.

As you can see, I use a lot of shorthand to indicate anatomy, light, and shadow. It's extremely useful in that I can get a lot of the information I need for a painting in a very short time. Time is of the essence because if I were to set up the model for a painting from direct observation, the mere fact that the model must maintain that pose for the duration (even with breaks) limits what's possible.

With short poses, possibilities increase exponentially. The model can hold a more dynamic pose for, say two minutes. The same pose might be impossible to hold for a longer duration.

These are 5 minute poses.

This one might be longer. 10 or 20 minutes. That's about as long as I go, usually.

Have trouble with foreshortening? You're not alone. In my experience, it usually means you're not seeing the form, but drawing what you think you know. The natural tendency is to want to draw things at its full length. It takes some effort to switch gears to seeing foreshortened forms accurately. How much effort? About ten thousand drawings. That's just me though. I've seen people "get it" in just a few hundred. You might be one of those talented people.

If you think you've got the foreshortening thing down, test yourself. Draw figures without relying on "shading" and see if you can depict convincing dimensionality and foreshortening with just line. If you can do that consistently, you're there.

There's nothing wrong with "shading", but if you're dependent on it to describe form, I think it limits your ability to say more with each stroke. The ability to really "see" form and interpret it with your pencil translates directly to economy of brush in painting. Of course we take full advantage of what light and shadow can do, but the difference is whether it is a tool, or it is a crutch.

Having said that, I have seen painters who, without a handle on truly seeing form, are capable of incredibly beautiful work, so maybe my insistence on NOT being dependent on rendering light and shadow are unfounded. (shrug)

But if I were to list those artists, you wouldn't see names like Sargent, Zorn, Sorolla, Degas, Velasquez, Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Manet, Picasso (that's right, Picasso), Monet, (you heard right. Monet), Matisse (Matisse? yes, Matisse).....

Oh, uh... did I mention I'm doing a two day figure drawing workshop on March 20 - 21? You can't learn this stuff in two days, but I can point you in the right direction. Interested? Follow the link on my Workshops page to sign up!

Holiday Sketches

Flaming Sycamore, 12 x 9 inches, oil on linen

Happy New Year everyone! I hope you had a great holiday. I spent my Christmas and New Years with family and friends down in Southern California. A busy and gluttonous week, but I did manage to sneak out a few times to do a little sketching, which helped me to maintain my sanity during this hectic season :-)

I did the top painting and the following one in Eaton Canyon in Pasadena / Arcadia. There were a lot of hikers (trying to burn off the Christmas dinner calories, no doubt) but I was off the trail and nobody bothered me. Very pleasant and relaxing to be just painting trees without worrying about particularly doing a good job. I like how they turned out, nonetheless.

Winter Sycamore, 9 x 12 inches, oil on linen

Although I was only about 50 ft away from the parking lot, it was very quiet and peaceful. I really appreciated the solitude. If I had a stiff cup o' joe with me, it would have been perfect.

Stadium, 12 x 16 inches, oil on linen

Later in the week, my buddy Rob and I went to Elysian Park to paint. Elysian is a huge park overlooking the Dodger Stadium, and the view is absolutely spectacular. It overlooks all of L.A., actually, and pretty much has awesome views in any direction. When I was attending art school in Pasadena, I wasn't at all interested in painting en plein air, so I really had no idea there were places like this. Rob knows all the good painting spots, so I was happy to have him show me around.

The day was clear, and we could almost see all the way to the Pacific Ocean. That's pretty incredible visibility considering this is L.A. I decided to paint the stadium. Because of where the sun was, I could get some hazy atmosphere, and the unique structure allowed me to paint something readily identifiable without fussing with details.

I was fiddling around with thumbnail sketches and got all excited when I stumbled upon this composition. I love that it's abstract and sort of reminiscent of the Bay Area Figurative style. The big empty parking lot gave me a nice passive area to juxtapose against the smaller and more active area. Throw in some dynamic lines and a few notes of color, and voila! A perfect balance between the abstract and the representational. (I use the term perfect very loosely here–just patting myself on the back for a small achievement. Humor me.)

Overlooking Glendale, 16 x 12 inches, oil on linen

After a lunch of meat and beer, we did another painting. Not far from the earlier spot, but facing the other direction. There were many great looking eucalyptus trees there just waiting to be painted, but most of them required my standing in the full sun. Even in December, the California sun can be really bright and hot, so I try to work in the open shade whenever I can.

I found a nice shady spot under a giant oak tree, and painted this eucalyptus. As with the earlier painting, I was trying to work loosely, looking for an abstract painting in the representational.

Patio, 9 x 12 inches, oil on linen

We stayed with our relatives in Pasadena, and this is their patio. The fact is, you don't have to go far to find something to paint. It's nice to get away sometimes, but if I'm just looking for something to paint, I don't need to load the car and drive around looking for a perfect composition. Sometimes it's right under your nose – not that I consider this a perfect composition, but you know what I mean.

Here I am painting on the sidewalk in front of their house.

Here's the painting on my Open Box M. This is my "small" plein air set up. With three passengers, luggage, Christmas gifts and baby gear, I had to limit what I could pack in my 4Runner. I almost didn't have room for my panel carrier. I think I'm going to figure out a way to lighten my load even more this year. (Including my gut, which increased in size considerably this year)

Pasadena House, 9 x 12 inches, oil on linen

Here's the sketch. I need to spend a little bit more time cleaning up some edges, but I'm pretty happy with it.

Here's to an artful new year!!