Porch at night

     I've had this idea for a painting of our porch for a few years now. It's a space we use a lot, mostly in the Spring and the Fall, when it's neither too hot or too cold outside. I started doing drawings for this one in March, testing out a few different angles and sizes in my sketchbook:

sketchbook 9" x 12"

sketchbook 9" x 12"

     This last drawing is larger and I experimented with having a figure in it. Painter John Hull came to my studio at the start of this painting and he told me how he makes cut outs of figures on paper and moves them around within a drawing of the space he is painting. I tried this with my daughter posing on the bench, but I felt that the space would seem too crowded with a figure.

pencil, 21" x 18"

     In my interiors, I've been investigating these near and far spaces, and the porch offered a perfect stage for this indoor/outdoor space. I was interested also in how different light is portrayed in a single image; string lights vs. fading sunset, warm interior space verses cool outdoor space. The composition ordered itself symmetrically, but I was interested in how the triangles re-iterated themselves and how your eye bounced around the patterns. The symmetry deflected at times by the thrust of the table and glow of the drawing on the easel.
      From the drawings I blocked in the darks on a toned linen canvas. I took progression shots along the way, usually after each painting session: 

   The table in the foreground was initially empty, but one night while I was set up painting, my wife walked through from outside and placed the flowers in the vase on the table. I put them in quickly that night, perfectly serving as a counterpoint to my daughters drawing on the easel across from it.

     The painting slowly built up over a long period of time, the sweet spot of the session being when I raced to set things up so I could get those 15 minutes of purple/blue light as the sun finally sunk. Trees in the distance dissolving into fuzzy silhouettes against the sky.  I worked on this one vigorously over 3 or 4 months, usually about twice a week for 2-3 hours at a time. As the painting went on, I started working more and more without the motif, in my studio, tweaking things here and there, building up the surface and marks. Here's the finished version:

oil on linen, 22" x 24"

Winter still life

     Every Winter we pull some of our plants inside, the ones that are in containers, where we can shelter them from the colder weather. The larger ones usually make their way into my studio, because of the free space and the natural light. Over the past few years, I usually paint or draw them here, and about a month ago I started this painting. A lot of these plants we've had for a long time, where they pop up in different paintings over the years (I recently found an old drawing with the rubber plant in it from 2003) There's something about the idea of a container that I'm attracted to, or maybe it's a vessel...how something 'boundless-ness' can be 'contained'. I like tracking the growth of these plants through paint.
     I painted over this painting turned on it's side from a few years ago, which I was never able to resolve (the symmetry and the space never 'clicked', and the paint application got too 'finicky'):

25" x 22"

     Before I jumped into the painting, I started by sketching out a few different compositions:

     I settled on the symmetrical composition again, probably unconsciously leaning this way from the previous painting that I was covering over. I don't usually like working over other paintings, but it does happen from time to time. The painting underneath had probably been drying for about 2 years, so I took a razor blade to it and tried to level off as many ridges of paint as I could.
     My first layer is usually applied with a palate knife, but in this case, it felt like I was plastering over an old wall. I've been specifically trying to work more broadly in the beginning, and using large brushes, or in this case, a palette knife, forces me to focus on the big shapes and how they relate to the rectangle. (basically, the Charles Hawthore color-spot approach). From there, I can progressively hone in and articulate the spaces between the big shapes, which is what happens in this sequence:

   I've taken a break from this one over the holidays, but it's nice to have a painting to work on at all times. I've enjoyed exploring the patterns on the rug with paint and how they relate to the shapes of the leaves. The bright cobalt rectangle serves the practical function of keeping any water and dirt off the rug, but within the painting it functions as a compliment to the orange of the wood and breaks up the receding floor plane. I'll probably continue to fiddle around with it until the plants go back outside in the Spring...

reworked self portrait

28" x 21"

      I've had this self portrait in my painting rack for about a year; never quite finished it and never quite satisfied with the way it came out. It is based on a photograph I took in my studio a few years ago. The image was striking to me, with my reflection captured in the set of double doors in my studio at night. The way the camera (IPhone) lined up with my head, obscuring my face, was an interesting self portrait, perhaps proving to be a better photograph than a painting, though. Anyway, I put it away after working on it for a few weeks, and forgot about it.   A few weeks ago I pulled it back out, with the intention of starting back into it. As I was looking at it on the wall, I noticed my reflection over my left shoulder. Same interior, but scaled out a little bit; now my whole body was reflected in the doors. Some of the elements lined up to what was already there, but for the most part I dove right in and started blocking in the new painting:

 

      I usually don't like to paint over old paintings, mainly because some of the painting underneath can pop through in the form of ridges and edges, which can be distracting and a nuisance to paint over. This time I didn't mind so much; the previous painting created a bedrock of paint, which I was able to add to for it's current iteration.
     I've included details and progress shots here, mostly of the figure. I like to have a night painting to work on in addition to the plein air work that I do during the day; it gives me something to work on in the studio at night a few days a week.

 

     I'm still not sure if it's done, but I think it's close...I don't want to paint over the looser and more raw elements. I like how your eye bounces around the painting, picking up the various reflections and different light sources throughout, and how the motif of the door/glass reiterates the implied picture plane.

Night painting

     I've been working on this new night painting, on and off, since the spring. With the interiors, I'm able to work on a painting for a more sustained amount of time, due to the fact that the light and the forms don't change as much. Painting en plein air, you're mostly at the mercy of the weather and environment, for better or worse. Here, I'm able to take my time; pull out the painting a couple times a week and work at a more leisurely pace. Both have their advantages and disadvantages.
     My initial impulse and idea for the painting came after seeing the sun set through the trees in our backyard. Everyday, as the days move into the summer months, the light as it streams through our back porch and windows, is so beautiful and golden, it just calls out to be painted. Unfortunately, that time from 5-8pm is the worst time for me to set up in our living room to paint, so I altered it to a night painting with different kinds of artificial light.

pencil, 9" x 11"

     I started with this initial sketch in pencil, to figure out the main divisions of the composition. I wanted to get not only the porch, but the long hallway that leads back to my studio. I wanted this painting to contain a 'near' space, and a 'far' space. I was also intrigued by the idea of incorporating different light sources. The porch side having the darkness of night outside, with a soft glow overhead, and the deep space of my studio, far away, but brightly lit. I also put in the bright blue glow of the TV in between the 2 spaces, as an accent and counterpoint to all the orange wood tones. I just love painting all the patterns that our house has (courtesy of my wife), and the wood molding and floor create a warm, glowing atmosphere. Also, about half way through the painting, I realized that I could turn on the string lights outside the porch to create yet another light source and pattern. The dots of small lights lead you around the painting in arcs towards the center of the composition.
     One thing that doesn't come out in looking at art online is that the surface of the paint is not apparent. While I'm working, I'm continually conscious of how the paint is sitting on the surface...is it thin? thick? was this mark part of the underpainting? How does my eye move over the surface of the picture plane? Are there 'slips' that occur where my eye moves around the image. There's the image, the motif, and then there is the paint application. After each painting session, I tried to take a picture of each 'stage' of the painting. Please forgive the uneven quality of the photos (some were taken at night under artificial light, some during the day, and some with different cameras). Here is the progression of the painting:

 

finished painting; 22" x 27"