photo: @younglovemedia |
Friday, January 5, 2018
A Thing of the Past
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Kaua'i trip summer 2016
Kaua'i landscape; oil on paper, 12" x 16" |
- Jullian half box French easel. I have the full box that I use at home, but the half for traveling because it is smaller and lighter.
- Best Brella umbrella, includes clamp, extension rods and one umbrella
- oil paint packed in plastic Art Bin container. I separate this out from the easel, because the half box is kinda small and doesn't hold all the tubes of paint I use (about a dozen). I'm always afraid of some leaking at 30,000 feet, so this keeps it contained. I print out the material safety data sheet from one of the paint tubes and put it into the paint box in case something comes up with the TSA bag screening. Oil paint is safe to travel with on planes, but the words 'oil' and 'paint' might raise a red flag, so that shows the flash point and other specs.
- brushes in a separate plastic Art Bin brush container. Again, all the brushes usually don't fit in the half box because of the size, and the container has these foam slots which keep the brushes from sliding around and mashing up the ends.
- box of vinyl gloves
- brush cleaner
- C clamp and bungee cord. usually needed to secure the umbrella or palette on a windy day
- back pack to hold everything
- rags
- roll of white artist tape
- can with lid
- Art Bin container with pencils, charcoal pencil, eraser, X-acto blade, and conte crayon.
- a few smaller sized sketch books; I like the Holbein multi-drawing books for watercolor and multi media.
- the solvents are the tricky part, since they are a volatile liquid and definitely wouldn't pass through bag screening. I have to get this stuff at my destination, and fortunately they had a small art supply store on the island where I was able to get turpentine, damar varnish, linseed oil and copal medium. There was also an ACE hardware in town where I got the rags, a few cans with lids, and mineral spirits for cleaning brushes. I try to research all this prior to the trip, and dispose of it before I travel home.
- for travel, the Arches oil paper works great. The paint dries quickly on it and it can be stacked flat, so it takes up less room than framed canvases. The suit case I use has hard sides, so I slip the paper between 2 pieces of cardboard, which is slightly bigger than the paper I'm bringing, then put the whole cardboard/paper sandwich in a clear bag. I usually tape the paper to a board in my studio, but because of the weight, I didn't bring that. A trip to Walmart and $12 got me a cheap 18" x 24" poster frame which was sturdy enough to use for this purpose.
Iron wood tree roots, Tunnels Beach; pencil on paper, 6.5" x 9" |
Kaua'i landscape; pencil on paper, 5.5" x 7.5" |
Kaua'i landscape; pencil on paper, 5.5" x7.5" |
Iron wood tree roots at Ke'e beach; pencil on paper, 6.5" x 9" |
Tree roots at Anini Beach; pencil on paper, 6.5" x 9" |
False Kamani tree, Puu Poa beach; pencil on paper, 6.5" x 9" |
False Kamani tree, hideaways Beach; pencil on paper, 6.5" x 9" |
Tree and rock face; pencil on paper, 9" x6.5" |
Kaua'i landscape; oil on paper, 12" x 16" |
False Kamani tree; graphite/oil on paper, 15" x 22" |
Kaua'i flora; oil/graphite on paper, 22" x 15" |
Iron wood tree roots; oil/graphite on paper, 22" x 15" |
Plumeria tree and flora; oil/graphite on paper, 22" x 15" |
Iron wood tree roots; oil/graphite on paper, 22" x 15" |
Labels:
en plein air,
landscape,
pastoral landscapes,
plants,
travel,
trees
Thursday, April 28, 2016
ACE Hotel New Orleans
starting the 2' x 5' masonite panels |
starting the first set |
blocking in the shapes |
panels in progress |
panels in progress |
detail |
detail |
detail |
packing with my studio assistant |
After drying them out for about 10 days in my studio with the de-humidifer, I repacked them in the original crate, wrapping each in clear plastic wrap and layering with bubble wrap. I called up the shipping agent who came back and hauled them away to New Orleans. I had to wait until the hotel opened (March 14th) until I could publicize this project. So if you're ever in New Orleans and stay at the ACE, snap a picture and send it too me!
in situ (not my painting though!) |
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Watercolors from Costa Rica
I just got back from a great trip to Costa Rica last week, and I was able to do some small watercolors while I was there. I love working in oils, but a lot of times for travel, especially with my entire family, it is more practical to bring along a small watercolor kit and some paper, rather than a french easel and solvents. These all have touches of goauche over top of the watercolor and are 7" x 10". The tropical flora in Costa Rica was quite fun to paint, forcing me to use brighter and more intense pops of color than I normally do.
Labels:
banana palm,
en plein air,
landscape,
pastoral landscapes,
travel,
watercolor
Friday, February 19, 2016
from the James Island Connector
In the Fall of 2015, I worked on two separate commissions. The first will have to wait for another post, but this one was a landscape from the James Island Expressway, a high causeway which connects James Island to the peninsula of Charleston. The client had seen my work in Charleston before they moved to Utah, and wanted a painting of this view as a Christmas present for his wife. He contacted me around Thanksgiving, and since I had a lot going on at the time, I told him it wasn't possible to get the entire painting completed by then, but that I would do my best to get a few studies to him for approval by the holidays. He described the view that he wanted, which is a great panorama you see coming into downtown Charleston. The elevation is high (unusual for the Low country) and from there you can see the Charleston marina, various church steeples punctuating the skyline and the iconic Ravanel Bridge in the the distance. It's a similar view that I've wanted to paint for years, from another causeway bridge that I drive over almost every morning after dropping my kids off at school, so this seemed like a fortuitous opportunity.
Since this spot is impossible to paint on site, I had to work exclusively from photo reference. Although I prefer to work from observation, in the end, I can work either way (and I'm usually the only one who can tell which are done from the motif and which are done from photos). It proved to be a difficult spot even to take the photos. I managed to convince my wife to pull over to the shoulder of the expressway one afternoon, with my whole family in tow, risking life and limb as I reached out the passenger side door as cars were zooming by at 40-50 MPH, to take about 2 dozen reference photos. I edited a few larger panoramas and from there the client and I agreed on the final scope of the scene and size (it was a longer format than I'm used to painting on, and I rounded the proportions off to a double square, 12" x 36")
From the photos, I did this mock up drawing, trying to set up visual rhythms in the rectangle and adjusted certain elements so that they would line up with the rebatement of the square.
After the drawing, I transferred this to some paper, in order to do a color study. The thing that I dislike most about working from photographs is the amount of distortion that occurs in the color. Things usually tend to be 'bluer' and have more contrast then if observed with the eye, but I pulled out some other plein paintings that I had in the studio with a similar light (midday) and painted during the same season (late Fall). In the end, all paintings are fabricated 'lies' this way; an artist tweaks and distorts various elements of color, light and form to make a constructed, 'painted' reality.
After the client approved both studies (he was a pleasure to work for, having no objections to what I proposed and sent along the way), I stretched the final canvas and began work. Because there was a lot of earth colors in the foreground and a large area of water, I decided to start off with a toned canvas rather than the white of the gesso. I usually do this by thinning a mixture of raw umber and burnt umber with turpentine, brushing it over the gessoed linen and then rubbing it off after about an hour. Once this dries, I start back in with a thin brush and black paint, drawing the linear elements and blocking in larger patches of color with a palette knife and wide brush.
My biggest problem with studio paintings, especially ones done from photographic sources, is that the situation lacks the immediacy of working directly from the motif. Trying to capturing Nature's more fleeting elements (clouds, light and shadow, and the different subtlties of color) keeps me on my toes; without that, the brush work and paint handling can stiffen up and get contrived. I try to augment this tendency by sometimes working on the painting upside or without any reference in front of me, seeing the painting as an abstract organization of colored shapes and textures. Here are some of the progress shots along with details that I sent the client along the way:
I usually frame my own paintings with a recessed dark shadow strip and oak edging. I can control the color of the shadow strip by actually using the same dark oil paint that is in the image, so there is a cohesiveness to the whole thing. Once the final was approved, I let it dry for a few weeks, framed it up, made a crate and shipped it out. Here's the completed painting with frame:
Since this spot is impossible to paint on site, I had to work exclusively from photo reference. Although I prefer to work from observation, in the end, I can work either way (and I'm usually the only one who can tell which are done from the motif and which are done from photos). It proved to be a difficult spot even to take the photos. I managed to convince my wife to pull over to the shoulder of the expressway one afternoon, with my whole family in tow, risking life and limb as I reached out the passenger side door as cars were zooming by at 40-50 MPH, to take about 2 dozen reference photos. I edited a few larger panoramas and from there the client and I agreed on the final scope of the scene and size (it was a longer format than I'm used to painting on, and I rounded the proportions off to a double square, 12" x 36")
From the photos, I did this mock up drawing, trying to set up visual rhythms in the rectangle and adjusted certain elements so that they would line up with the rebatement of the square.
After the client approved both studies (he was a pleasure to work for, having no objections to what I proposed and sent along the way), I stretched the final canvas and began work. Because there was a lot of earth colors in the foreground and a large area of water, I decided to start off with a toned canvas rather than the white of the gesso. I usually do this by thinning a mixture of raw umber and burnt umber with turpentine, brushing it over the gessoed linen and then rubbing it off after about an hour. Once this dries, I start back in with a thin brush and black paint, drawing the linear elements and blocking in larger patches of color with a palette knife and wide brush.
My biggest problem with studio paintings, especially ones done from photographic sources, is that the situation lacks the immediacy of working directly from the motif. Trying to capturing Nature's more fleeting elements (clouds, light and shadow, and the different subtlties of color) keeps me on my toes; without that, the brush work and paint handling can stiffen up and get contrived. I try to augment this tendency by sometimes working on the painting upside or without any reference in front of me, seeing the painting as an abstract organization of colored shapes and textures. Here are some of the progress shots along with details that I sent the client along the way:
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