Classmates

Mo and Farina   conte crayon and pastel   27.5 x2 0

Mo is my friend and a fellow artist.  Farina is her dog.  Both have been attending our Monday night class for some time.

Farina was dropped off at Mo's house a few years back, possibly the victim of some kind of abuse, as she is highly distrustful of men in general.  Mo swears that she is truly the "best dog ever", as she is kind, obeys, doesn't stray....in fact, the two of them travel practically everywhere together.  Farina has gradually gotten used to the men in our class, and more than a few artists have been seen giving her a biscuit now and then.  As she is a herding dog, she only rises from her resting position when fellow artists visit the restroom or nab a cup of coffee.  When all have returned to their seats, she is happy again.

What a pair!  They both add richness to our class, and to our lives, especially those of us without pets. As we begin another Monday evening fall session, we all look forward to these very special classmates!

Melon Man

Melon Man   charcoal and conte on Rives BFK   27.5 x 21

Each Wednesday I trudge on up to our township center to the farmers' market.  I use the term loosely, as there are usually only 3 booths...a gal who bakes scrumptious cookies, a guy who sharpens knives......and the melon man whose booth offers up luscious late-summer produce...a vast array of peaches, squash, sweet onions and much much more.  He was less than thrilled when I asked him to pose with one of his melons.  But, despite my trepidation in asking him, I knew that I would be able to invest myself in this project, as we have a shared experience....him as a seller, and me as a hiker with a backpack heavy with produce.

I began by taping off the right hand side of paper, knowing that I want to create a split visual.  I worked on his figure first of all, which, for the most part, is composed of large and simple shapes.  My next step was to turn the support 90 degrees to the right.  In the taped off area, I created a melon patch.  This part happened quite easily, as I was charmed by the rhythms of the leaves...and the counterspaces that occurred as a result.  In the final stage of the work, I removed the tape and began to integrate the two parts into a "oneness" that satisfied  my sense of aesthetic.  I am quite pleased, as this project offered up a satisfying mix of challenge and fun.  I began by using vine charcoal, then threw conte crayon in the mix, as well as some broad swipes of green pastel...just enough for a color suggestion.

This project renewed my love of drawing (as most of my time is spent painting), as well as renewing my love of conte crayon.

Come October, I will miss my Wednesday treks to the township park.

Leave that stroke alone!...

Julie   conte crayon on paper   17.5 x 10

Yes, my brain tells me this repeatedly!  Demonstrations offer the opportunity to draw from life and to relish what has been given to you.  Julie sank into the comfy chair and eventually became one with that chair as she relaxed.  The excitement was there for me....the notion of a winter nap.  At the end of the session, I was quite satisfied with the overall feel of the work but felt that there were several issues that still needed to be resolved.  At home, I worked a bit...maybe a half hour, but understood the danger of "fixing"...where areas do become neater, tidier, but at what cost?  .....at reducing the energy of the work.  Ask me how I learned this lesson.  Ask anyone who has ever worked in watercolor.  Sometimes I look around at model sessions and classes and see well-versed artists repeatedly stroking (licking) areas again and again to no avail.....trying to get it "right".  It takes a long while to learn to trust yourself...to trust what you see...to realize that every stroke is valid, that every stroke, every mark, every squiggle is valid.  Trust......yeah, I get it now....hopefully it will stick.

Reliance on Photographs...

Julie   conte crayon on paper   17.5 x 10

Photographs are the life preservers of painting and drawing.....they don't really teach you to swim, but they keep you buoyant.  It is very difficult for some folks to give them up as part of the work (?) is already done - the subject has been flattened into 2 dimensions.....the artist's job then is to pump 3-dimensional reality back into the work.  Photos are portable.  Photos save time. Photos freeze the subject in time. Photos are like reading Cliff Notes to try to understand a great American novel.  In a pinch, I have used both. Photos lie. So do Cliff Notes.  Everything is on the same plane.  Darks and lights are polarized.   Working from reality teaches the true nature of things, the to's and the fro's.  Models get tired, flowers wilt, and the sun changes.  But I believe that an artist can learn way way more and achieve more freshness and energy by working from life.  "Julie" is a portrait started from life at my drawing workshop in Warren where most of the attendees are portrait artists.  I will say that I could probably have worked another hour on it, but, being a workshop, we needed to move on.  The natives were growing restless.  I remember, though, that it felt good, I felt as if I had a handle on the subject.  It felt simple and right.  I snapped a photo so that I could finish the work at home.  A week later, I relied on my photograph to finish the portrait.  I was let down.....I felt that there was so much I had missed....how could I have been so wrong?  All those details.  Too many details.  The photo caused me to doubt my observations.  Although I finished the work to my satisfaction, I have to wonder what the work would have looked like had I been able to finish it on the spot....

PLAN AHEA.............

D.  That is me.  Remember those signs at the turnpike gift shops that were carved with

     "PLAN AHEA

       D"?   (the D is always on the second line)

Grit   conte crayon   34.5 x 20

That is me.  That is my weakness.  No matter what size ground I am given, paper or canvas, small, large, or in-between, I am running off the borders.  My weakness shows up even when I work larger.  I tend to work all over at once, and often consider the subject matter as secondary to other rhythms, (the initial block-in losing a bit of importance) so, often, a bit of time passes before I realize that I don't have room for all of the crucial elements.....and my painting euphoria comes to a screeching halt.

So, in order to compensate for this tendency, I have become used to placing a smaller rectangle inside the real one....an "imaginary boundary" that must be obeyed.  It seems to work for me.  In fact, the pencil boundary can often be seen faintly underlying layers of paint in watercolors.  In oils, it can easily be removed on a subsequent layer.

I once did a drawing of my son Seth who is a runner.  There simply was no room left on the paper for his feet.  And I really liked the drawing.  In this case it worked for me, as the emphasis was on his upper body and face, which was in survival mode.  But this drawing was the final straw for me.....I simply must be more careful.  

PLAN AHEAD.  I guess I was attracted to that sign for a reason.