Casein 2020

A contest sponsored by Richeson, Casein 2020, is on my mind these days. It's an online competition sponsored by Jack Richeson & Co. Paint via their Richeson School of Art, intended to encourage interest in the medium. There is a $50 fee when you enter--well, when you submit an "intent to enter" form online--but in return you receive a casein kit consisting of about eight or nine tubes of casein paint, a couple of brushes and a couple of decent paper supports. Sounds like a win-win to me. My own kit came just last week. My plan is to make a series of casein paintings to enter whenever entries begin.

Because of the contest, I began reviewing casein works from the last few years and decided to post a few less recent ones.

Hoff, "Spinnaker," casein on bristol, 2016

This is the very first painting I ever did using casein paint. It was actually "milk paint," from Sinopia Pigments. This is on a large piece (22x15) of illustration board, a sufficiently rigid support, and was actually just an experiment. The reference was the cover of a magazine about sailing that was lying about. The paint and its handling impressed me and it wasn't long until I starting doing more of this sort of painting.

There are a number of enjoyable properties of casein, including its handling, but also its opacity. Considering how quickly casein dries, you can paint several layers in a single sitting. The quick drying is a liability too, if you're the kind of painter who likes to mix and mush your colors together; it's dry entirely too fast for that. In my hands at least, casein paintings go better when I manage to make a stroke and leave it alone. Of course that means accurate color mixing before putting down the paint, not afterward.

Hoff, "Fall Visitor," casein on illustration board, 2016

Instead of continuing with the Sinopia milk paint, I soon ordered some Shiva caseins in tubes. The Sinopia milk paint has a thin consistency and is more suited to decorative work. Happily, casein is very permanent once dry and can be used on woodwork, wood projects, even murals.

My second painting with casein (right) was my first using the Shiva line of tubed casein emulsion paint. "Fall Visitor" was painted in November at the height of fall color in our woods across Druid Hill Creek. It is about the same size as the sailboat painting above. One of the great things about casein paint is that it dries to a consistent matte finish that is great when photographed. Another issue with casein (as with gouache and to an extent watercolor) is the shifting of color values when it dries.

Hoff, "Racing," casein on panel, 2017

Casein allows for "chunkier" brushwork, too. In another sailing painting (left) the thicker casein blues and greys were layered over a warmer underpainting in a more pastose way. The support is a hardboard panel, which allows thicker paint application.

Hoff, "Studio Bottles," casein on panel, 2017

One good way for me to work on various painting issues has been to do quick daily studies. I did that using oil paint perhaps a decade or more ago, and a few years later did some small daily sketches using casein as I worked to learn how to use the medium. The sorts of things that interested me in those years were how quickly the paint would dry, how opaque it would be, what the color shift (expected) would be, how to keep the paint useful for long periods, and so on. Those daily studies, which were mostly still life, were small, usually 6x8 or even smaller. In Studio Bottles (right) my interest was in opacity and over painting, and in how quickly each layer dried. It was useful to find that brighter colors still stand out when painted over a darker layer.

Those studies were useful, but now my hope is to spend some time outdoors with casein as well as oil paint over the coming warm months of the year. Applying casein to landscape plein air work should be exciting. I've already used casein a couple of times (see the link below) and am eager to get going.

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The Creek in Casein

Virtual Tours

Leonardo daVinci, "Ginevra de'Benci," oil on panel, 1478 (National Gallery, Washington)

During the pandemic, we're more isolated individually than our species has been for eons. We're stuck indoors or in small groups. In some parts of the country the weather is still keeping many of us indoors. We're cooped up. And even if we weren't many museums and other possible diversions during these times are also padlocked.

Edward Hopper, "New York Movie," oil on canvas, 1939 (MoMA, New York City)

What can a museum rat like me do in these times? Luckily there are vast online resources. If you're interested in art, you can review the collection of many of the best and biggest in the world by searching the Internet. A few museums have only limited parts of the collection online but many include everything. Some offer virtual tours of the museum, allowing you to wander through parts of the collection as if you're actually visiting.

And as a salute to happier times ahead, here's a sidwalk gathering at a microbrewery in Iowa.

Hoff, "Outside the Brewpub," oil on panel, 2018

Chicago Art Institute Collection
The Getty
Metropolitan Museum 360 Project (New York)
Musee d'Orsay Virtual Tour 
National Gallery of Art (Washington)
Rijksmuseum Virtual Tour
Uffizi Gallery Florence
VanGogh Museum 
Virtual Vatican

Emotion in Art

Artists all have different aims. One painter wants to make beautiful, realistic images of fruit in bowls while another paints real yet repellent views of grimy city life. Another artist tries to show feelings in visual metaphor while another is utterly direct and hyper-real. Some artists want their makings to cause the viewer to experience a certain feeling, others to reproduce a feeling of their own. The aims behind art are legion, and they change from time to time for practically any artist. Nonetheless, communicating an emotion or feeling is probably foremost for many.

Edward Hopper, "Night Shadows," etching, 1921

Although he often discounted the contribution of emotion to his work, Edward Hopper seemed to show us the isolation and loneliness in the heart of urban life. Many know his paintings but his earlier etchings are as emotionally evocative. In "Night Shadows," from 1921, he gives the viewer a disquieting angle on a lonely figure, buildings looming overhead. It is the lighting and composition of this image that give us the willies. The strong diagonal shadow makes us uneasy and on guard. The same kind of lone and vulnerable figure would emerge in the alienated film noir heroes of a couple of decades later.

Robert Genn, "First Light on Moose Lake," acrylic, ca 1995

Color is another way emotion is evoked in visual arts, more commonly in film and animation. Certain colors are said to evoke or imitate emotions--red for rage, yellow for envy, green or blue for calm, for example. And if we look at visual art these color rules do seem to hold. Landscapes that contain rolling green country and a blue lake can provide a sense of relaxation and inner peace. In "First Light on Moose Lake," Robert Genn shows us a party setting out at sunrise onto a glassy lake, probably in a wilderness. The serenity of the scene is enhanced by the deep greens and blues playing against the yellows of the coming day.

Hoff, "Risk Factors," oil 2014

Symbols have always been used in art as a way into the viewers' emotions. In the days of the Dutch masters, still life paintings quite commonly contained abundant symbols. As an example, vanitas was a kind of still life intended to remind the viewer of the verse in Ecclesiates, "vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas," or in English "vanity of vanities, all is vanity," and no matter what we all return to dust. These vanitas paintings provoked a kind of dread among some at least, and contained symbols of death and evanescence--bubbles, smoke, skulls, and so on. In "Risk Factors," a contemporary vanitas, the skull takes center stage as a symbol of mortality, surrounded by things that can increase one's chances premature death--cigarettes, fats, salt, etc.

Frida Kahlo, "The Broken Column," oil, 1944

Personal experience can provide an emotional core to a visual work that can't be obtained otherwise. An artist can incorporate nearly any emotional experience, though we remember the negative ones more clearly, I suspect. In her symbolist work, "The Broken Column," Frida Kahlo, the great Mexican painter, shows us her own experience of serious physical injury and infirmity. She suffered a dreadful impaling injury when still a young woman that left her with a lifetime of pain, surgery and incapacitation through which she persevered and made her art. In this painting her spinal column is shattered and poorly reconstructed, her body strapped together as indeed it was quite often held together with plaster casts. Her pain and the bleakness of it are clear in the expression on her face. The landscape is broken and split and also evokes the enormous trauma that was her life.

Ilya Repin, "Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan, 1551," oil, 1885

Telling a story has been a sure-fire way to introduce emotion. Story, or narrative, is still one of the foremost reasons to take a photo or draw or paint an image. Narrative in art can be implied or explicit. In religious art, as an example, the narrative may be a shared one, well known to the adherents of a particular faith, and provide the viewer with reinforcement of beliefs or perhaps reassurance in times of strife. In his masterwork, "Ivan the Terrible and His Son" Ilya Repin depicts the moment after the Tsar has delivered a killing blow to the head of his son and heir to the throne. The Tsar shown realizing that he has ended his son's life, the life of his dynasty, and maybe even the life of his nation. It is controversial history even today in Russia. The figure of the dying Tsarevich is surrounded by dark reds, the colors of drying blood, and black, the color of oblivion, adding to the horror. Repin knew how to use color, composition, and shared narrative to strike several emotional blows. All Russians know this painting.

When looking at art, then, it is helpful to me to consider more than the image. The composition, choices of color, lighting, symbols, and detection of narrative are all important ways to understand the painting, and the painter's intentions.

Spring Memories

Although temperatures are warming, and March is the beginning of springtime, it is snowing here on Druid Hill Creek today. The snow began before sunup and has continued through the afternoon, keeping us indoors. The warmth of the season is far enough along that although substantial snowfall seems to be happening, it melts as it settles. But the skies are pewter grey and the landscape a warmer darker grey-brown. The creek flows dark. One longs for spring flowers and yellow foliage, so I went searching in old sketchbooks.

"Spring, the bridge," watercolor and ink, 4x5

In late March two years ago I sketched a bridge and newly leafy trees in a park. Compared with today the scene looks warm and lazy, not wet and drippy.

"Ancient Lilac," watercolor and ink, 5x10

The following month found us in Washington visiting family where I sat under an umbrella in a misty rain and sketched an ancient lilac whose thick twisted braches were covered in moss. The branches were as thick as my arm in some places and seemed to reach into the sky for moisture.

"Druid Hill Creek, Spring," watercolor and ink 5x9

The greening of undergrowth along the creek is the real signal that true spring has arrived. Last year it was early April--about a month from now--before the honeysuckle began to show any green at all, then suddenly, within a day or two the whole of the bushes along the banks simply burst into yellow-green leaves.

There will be warm days and dry days and time to paint more of the landscape. But for today, memories of springtime will have to do.

First of the Season

Although the warming season is early again this year, the advantage is that I've had an opportunity to work outdoors. My first outing was late last month when the weather was considerably more raw with light wind and tempertures in the low 40s. But about a week ago, with bright sunshine and higher temperatures I ventured out to Waterworks Park, not far from my studio. The Raccoon River flows through the park (and is the water supply for Des Moines), offering loop after loop of meandering banks for recreation and for painting.

I stopped and set up on a small turnout right on the bank, giving me an unobstructed view downstream toward one of the river's wanderings. At this time of year the trees show no hint of foliage and the banks are yellow-brown. Nonetheless, there is muted color galore in the woods that line the channel. With no wind and the sun at my back it was a pleasant two hours trying to capture the lazy flow of the water. My relatively new Open Box M continues to be a real pleasure to use. (Thank you Garin Baker.)

The painting went smoothly, and the sound of the water was soothing for the two hours or so I spent there. So here is the first plein air oil painting of the season. "Early March on the Raccoon" is 9x12 on a lightweight panel.

Copying Masters

Peter Paul Rubens, "Battle of Anghiari, after daVinci," 1603

From the time humans have made artworks they've copied others. Apprentices in ateliers of the past always copied work of their masters or masters of previous eras. Rubens copied da Vinci, Degas copied Holbein, and van Gogh copied Millet, and so it goes into our own time. Some worry about copyright and all that when copying artwork. Some think they could even be accused of forgery. But copying for practice or to improve skills or dissect the technique (among other purposes) is an excellent way to study.

Copying others is not a legal problem at all provided that 1) you label it as a copy or clearly state that it is a work "after so and so," rather than your own original work (that's fraud) or 2)you don't claim it is an original, by the other artist (forgery).

Hoff, "Fold Study, Seated Figure, after daVinci" charcoal 2016

My own copying over the years has been worthwhile, and I've used any number of previous artists for role models, from daVinci to Lucian Freud. Seeking to learn I began by copying Velasquez, and Goya (two favorites) before branching out to other "old masters" like Durer and then into other representational work. I've made copies of drawings and paintings both.

Part of the goal in copying, for me anyway, has been to learn how the artist made the image--what movements, what materials, how applied, and so on. On the other hand, sometimes it's the materials themselves that prompt a copy--I often copy graphite and charcoal drawings in metalpoint these days, striving to understand the light touch required.

Hoff, "Hand Study after daVinci," digital 2019

Emulating the master's work aids enormously in understanding. Of course, sometimes real world work can be emulated digitally, when the main interest is composition, or construction of the image, or the like--that is, materials are of less interest. Pressure-sensitive computer tablets are most useful in that context. In copying the drawing of  a hand (left) by daVinci, I wanted to see how to be as feather-light as possible with the digital stylus, which provides a wide range of line weight and darkness depending on how much one presses. The idea was in part learning the limitations of the equipment and in part trying to teach my hands.

Hoff, "Jane Morris, after Rosetti," silverpoint on paper 2020

Metalpoint is a good way to do a similar kind of line work when copying. While many of my metalpoints are originals, I've also copied a few drawings from masters of the past. For example, the study of a female head to the right is a copy of a drawing by the Pre-Raphaelite painter and poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti of Jane Morris, the woman who served as his muse and model. Ms. Morris modeled for Rossetti and in turn became famous in her own right. She was the model for Eliza Doolittle in "Pygmalion," the famous drama by George Bernard Shaw, for example. Her Roman nose, thick mane of red-auburn hair and air of royal detachment have continued her fame. The original is darker than this copy.

For me, copying provides a lot of positives--simple practice, investigation of materials, study of master artists' methods, the (presumptive) thought processes involved, and so on. I don't sell copies, though sometimes a piece inspired by a master but not a strict copy is fair game for sale, with proper attribution.

Favorite Artists 11 - Franz Hals

Favorite artists of mine come from all eras of art, but the Golden Age of Dutch art is probably my favorite, given the mastery of the men and women who made the works. The genre painters were wonderful, and so were the painters who pursued more sophisticated kinds of work. One of those was

"The Gypsy Girl," 1629

Franz Hals (1582-1666). Encountering the works of Hals, my initial reaction was different than if was for Rembrandt--I liked Hals from the first. Hals is a painter more devoted to bright, natural light than Rembrandt, so that his works aren't so dark and brown. Furthermore, Hals painted pictures that you connect with. You feel you know these people, or someone like them. While Hals' work doesn't show the insight into personality and psychology of Rembrandt, he gave us images that have lasted over the centuries.

Franz Hals was born in Antwerp but his parents fled to Haarlem when he was only two. He lived there the rest of his life, even after becoming an enormously successful portrait painter. For that is what Hals was throughout his career, a painter of people. He began selling paintings in 1610 or 1611, and became almost immediately successful, so much so that sitters had to come to Haarlem to be painted; he refused to travel. Eventually he went out of fashion and even became relatively obscure until the middle of the 19th century. He died destitute but had been voted a small pension. Once rediscovered, Hals' work has influenced many painters in the succeeding decades.

"Portrait of a Man," 1660

For me there are several aspects of Hals' work that are most attractive. First and foremost is his masterful brushwork, which seems casual and almost effortless, as if tossed off without a single thought. In reality, though, it is hard work to make a thing look so easy, and it is clear that he worked hard to master his craft.

An example of great brushwork is in "Portrait of a Man" from 1660, now in the Frick Museum in New York. A close examination of the brushwork describing the fabrics show bold strokes of paint, thickly and confidently applied. It is as if Hals is showing the world just how completely he has mastered the craft of painting. This painting was doubtless made as a commissioned work, but somehow over the years the name of the sitter has been lost. Nonetheless, it's clear he was well to do, perhaps even quite wealthy, which was Hals' clientele.

My favorite of all Hals' works are his tronies. A tronie was a painting--a portrait--during the Dutch Golden Age that was intended as a representation of a sort of person--drinkers, tavern denizens, celebrants, and the like. One the most well-known by Hals is "The Gypsy Girl," (above), although whether he gave her that name is unknown. She is presumably a tavern woman, happy and seemingly carefree, possibly with drink, so that she displays ample cleavage, a very immodest thing at the time. She grins coquettishly, her cheeks glow, and her sidelong look is irresistibly sexy. It is one of my favorite paintings.

"Verdonck," 1628

Hals painted quite a few portraits and tronies that carry more than a hint of humor. One of his more amusing portraits is titled "Verdonck," a portrait of a well-known and reputedly very argumentative member of a local religion in Haarlem (right). Known as a difficult person to get along with, he is shown brandishing the jawbone of an ass. It seems doubtful that Hals did this one as a commission, so it almost qualifies as a tronie.

"Peeckelhaerigh," 1629

 Another favorite of mine by Hals is "Peeckehaeringh," a tronie of a drunk in a tavern, showing us his empty tankard. The title is an old Dutch term for pickled herring, or in other words, a drunken man. This seems to be an image of a comic actor but could as easily be a tavern layabout. The painting is famous too for having belonged to another prominent Dutch master, Jan Steen, and appeared in the background of some of Steen's own works. Like other works, the masterful brushwork, innate humor, and excellent draftsmanship are all on view and have made this one of Hals' most famous paintings.

In sum, Franz Hals painted solely portraits, whereas other contemporaries of his did those, genre scenes, landscape and other kinds of works. Hals used much lighter scenes than some others--notably Rembrandt--and a brighter palette. And his mood throughout much of his work was upbeat, besides. But for me it will always be instructive to study how Hals trained himself to make such suave, confident, and descriptive brush strokes. I intend to study him even more.




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Favorite Artists
Favorite Artists 2--Chardin
Favorite Artists 3--Grant Wood
Favorite Artists 4--Diego Velazquez
Favorite Artists 5--Andrew Wyeth
Favorite Artists 6--Wayne Thiebaud 
Favorite Artists 7 - Edward Hopper
Favorite Artists 8- Nicolai Fechin
Favorite Artists 9- Rembrandt 
Favorite Artists 10-Hokusai

The Creek in Casein

Although my primary medium is oil paint, watercolor runs a close second, and so does digital work. There isn't quite enough time in the day to work with other kinds of paint like gouache and casein. Still, once in a while I like to give them a whirl. During the winter that's now fading most of the painting I did was watercolor, but a couple of casein works sneaked in.

"Winter Sunshine," casein on panel 2019

In December the weather got cold and outdoor work was less attractive even though there was hardly any snow. Brown-gold leaves clung to trees along the creek outside my studio, and when the sun got into the western sky they caught brilliance. "Winter Sunshine" (left) was intended to show that light against the mostly bare grey-brown branches. I toned the 6x8 panel with red and then painted this scene loosely, allowing under painting to show through, especially around the branches and some of the trunks.

"After the Snow," casein on panel 2019

A few days later that month after we began to have real snowfall, I did another casein from my studio. This particular scene shows clearing skies after a snow storm dropped a few inches onto Iowa. This panel wasn't prepped with an under tone and the scene was painted directly, alla prima. The creek had not frozen and reflected snow banks and sky at the foot of the painting. You can see little spots of stubborn gold-brown leaves still clinging.

The weather is starting to warm in earnest, with high temperatures above 50 degrees coming soon. My plan is to take my casein paint outdoors too.

What is Art For?

Over the history of humans we have made art. From the earliest works dating to more than 40,000 years ago to the latest graffito by Banksy we have made pictures or carved shapes or sung or played melodies, or moved our bodies in stylized ways. Art making is an innate human trait.

Clay Bison, Tuc d'Audobert Cave, France, ca 14,000 years old

We don't just make things randomly; human art making is purposeful. The main purpose of art over the millennia has likely been communication, whether to relate symbolic/supernatural/spiritual concepts to one another, or to entertain or persuade. Some art is made these days for purely personal reasons like self expression, or even personal healing.

Ritual and Spiritual
Paleontologists have speculated for decades that cave paintings and sculptures dating back tens of thousands of years had a symbolic/ritualistic purpose. Certainly they were important to their makers, perhaps to favor hunting but also possibly in other ways symbolizing the animal, or maybe its spirit.  There is of course no way to know for certain. But because these paintings and sculptures are exceptionally remote from usual places of habitation it seems clear they were not for display nor to enhance the makers' stature (at least directly). To our eyes they are also amazingly lifelike. For example, the small clay sculptures of bisons found in the Tuc d'Audoubert cave in the Pyrenees (above) are startling in their realism. Footprints of children and a few adults dating to the same period are still present in the floor of the cave, suggesting a gathering and possibly pointing to a ritual. (The system of caves in France contains other art too, including paintings and carvings, so maybe it was some kind of center for the practice.)

Michelangelo Merisi "Crucifixion of St. Peter," 1601

In the Middle Ages and into the Renaissance, much of the art of Europe was commissioned by the Roman Catholic church to tell biblical and moral tales, since much of the world was illiterate. More personal art like portraiture gradually became more important, but most European art was Christian and religious. Some of the greatest art produced by mankind was religious in origin. For example, Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio painted numerous canvases for the Roman church, including "Crucifixion of St. Peter" (right) for various churches. This particular masterpiece has always hung in the Church of Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome. It depicts the Christian saint being martyred by crucifying him upside down, as legend has it.

Propaganda/Commerce
Art has been used to promote commerce since commerce has existed, most likely, and although propaganda isn't quite the same as advertising, the intent is similar. Advertising has been used probably since before Ancient Egypt. Certainly posters and other kinds of artistic ephemera were made in Egypt and in succeeding civilizations. In later times there were painted signs, sculpted images and the like used to show what a building might contain. The need for images increased in the 19th century as advertising and commerce expanded, and art specifically for commercial purposes developed as a different kind, with different goals and different standards. In the 20th century that distinction blurred substantially, so that an artist of the stature of Norman Rockwell called himself only and illustrator though many considered him a consummate fine artist.

Triple Self Portrait, Saturday Evening Post cover 1960

Head of Augustus Caesar as Pontifex Maximus, marble, 1st century CE

Art has always been used for propaganda. The Romans used art as political and social propaganda, communicating the greatness of the emperors and the gods, and Rome itself. During the time of Augustus, for example, sculpted images of the Emperor could be seen throughout the world, sent there by the government as reminders of greatness, and virtually every emperor afterward attempted to follow his example. Alas, some of the images were perhaps too

Emperor Nero, marble 1st century CE

realistic, as can be seen in the image of Nero (right).

A case can be made that portraiture became a way for politicians and other prominent people to advertise their greatness. Certainly portraits of kings and presidents have served that purpose the same as busts of Augustus did two thousand years ago.

Social Causes
Art has been used in service to social causes throughout human history, obviously overlapping its use in propaganda. In our own time many different kinds of art--visual, music--have been used to promote social causes. Today art and artists have been engaged in any number of causes, from pollution to climate change to political commentary. Sometimes art about causes is based in traditional two- or three-dimensional images, but these days art in service to social causes is more often digital, musical or dramatic. An entire post could be devoted only to this particular application of the arts. Perhaps another day.

Entertainment

Art provides entertainment as it communicates, too. All of the arts provide entertainment in one way or another. Visual art gives the observer an opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the piece, the beauty of the world it references, the skills and vision of the maker, and tons more. Music provides a similar scope of experiences and entertains the mind and spirit. And so on. In our time, a vast portion of the world's entertainment is based in the arts. A few come easily to mind:

• movies, television and digital 
• live drama and comedy
• visual arts--painting, sculpture, digital, fabric, etc
• illustrative arts--cartooning and comics
• music in all genres 

The impact of creative work--the arts--on the fabric of human existence is undeniable. So what is art for? Nearly everything.

Vanishing from North America

In our part of the world, the northern half of the Western Hemisphere, wildlife are under enormous extinction pressures. A lot of the problem for wildlife is simple loss of habitat. Human settlements, farming and other use of land have stolen the untrod places from under their inhabitants. In North America, many species are endangered or under severe pressure. It's been a privilege to make images of a few of them and point them out.

Hoff, "Red Wolf," digital painting

The red wolf is not always listed as endangered despite numbering only a few hundred, most of those captive. The animal was actually declared extinct in the wild in the early 1980s but a few have been reintroduced and are surviving here and there. So in any event, these beautiful wolves are few in number and very rare in the wild. Its cousin the gray wolf is also endangered, though reintroduction in several North American areas have proven successful in recent decades. These animals are beautiful, with red touches on their ears and other places in their coats. They seem unlikely to survive in the wild without considerable human assistance.

Hoff, "Western Meadowlark," digital painting

Bird populations continue to decline in the United States and across the rest of the continent, shockingly so. Many species are severely jeopardized now (endangered birds), and some of those are very likely going extinct. In the vast plains and prairies of the center of the country where I grew up a very common yellow-breasted songbird was one of my favorites (above). The western meadowlark is about the size of a robin, with bright yellow on it's brow, throat, and abdomen and a black V on its breast. It sings a liquid note that sounds across the tangles of grassland where it commonly nests. Today the wide untrodden and unmowed meadows that are the habitat for these beautiful birds barely exist and the meadowlarks are nearly gone. I miss them.

These drawings and paintings of disappearing animals and birds continue to sadden yet inspire me. Perhaps they do the same to others.

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Related
Fearful Symmetry
White Rhino
Dying Out
Jeopardized

Winter Work

Although the cold and snow have kept me indoors, a lot of the time I stand at one or the other of the studio windows longing for the outdoors. These past few weeks I've posted about the weather (January and Snow in Silverpoint) and included sketches and drawings of the woods and creek outside, my appetite remains unsatisfied. So here are a few more winter works.

"Sunny Moment on Druid Hill Creek," watercolor, 4x6 on paper

This is a postcard-sized watercolor of a short span of Druid Hill Creek on a sunny winter day. The skies had cleared overnight, which lets the land radiate much more heat and causes temperatures to drop. The day before had been warm enough to melt some of the snow on the banks and on the ice covering of the creek, but then the plunge gave us deeper ice and shivering cold despite the warm yellow light. It was interesting to capture both the cool blues of the icy surfaces and the yellow sunlight on the remaining snow cover.

"Winter Sun," gouache and watercolor, 5x7 on panel

Gouache hasn't been one of my favored mediums for a long while. Partly that's because my interests shifted to digital, casein, watercolors, and metalpoint. Nonetheless one application I have for gouache is to touchup watercolors using titanium white. But I had a 5x7 panel that had been stained and a little time to experiment so I used titanium white gouache as a base and mixed some colored gouache by adding transparent intense watercolor. Then using that stained panel the gouache at right was the result. "Winter Sun" is my first gouache in several years.

My plan is to start painting outdoors very soon, given that the midpoint of February is past. So more landscapes are in the future, both watercolor and oil (and perhaps a casein or two as well).

Snow in Silverpoint

Working in series is a common practice and one that becomes a kind of long meditation on a subject. Some artists have done amazing works in series, like Romney's series of Lady Emma or Monet's haystacks. It doesn't matter whether you're indoors or out. This winter has kept me in the studio, but the woods and creek just outside are easy subjects, and the snowy weather in January and February has lasted long enough for a small series of silverpoint drawings. The panels I've been using are all 6x8 gessoed hardboard. While they are intended as supports for painting, the gesso is hard enough and has enough tooth to allow good metalpoint marks.

The snow began in January with a heavy blanket that has lasted ever since, despite a couple of periods of warmer temperatures. The creek has run from snow and frozen solid to sometimes flowing silvery-blue on a rare sunny day. Most days have had a more diffusely flat and wintry sort of light that seems to call for silverpoint.

The first one here is a blue spruce across the creek from the studio. After asnowfall the branches hold snow for two or three days, allowing for observation and drawings like this one. This particular drawing took two or three sessions of an hour or so, mostly while snow fell, making the woods pale and foggy in the background and bringing the spruce forward in space. This particular tree has been a favorite of local deer.

A few days after the snowfalls the skies cleared a bit and the trees shed that thick covering even though the ground was still white. A different part of the woods drew my eye then, in part because of the big trunks and how one leans hard toward the creek. The weak winter sun comes from the left and trees cast faint shadows on one another. Here and there sticks and stems from summer undergrowth poke through the deep snow. Like the other, this one took a couple of hour-long sessions.

Other silverpoint drawings in this group have already been posted (see links below), but more metalpoint is in the offing.

So far, these gesso panels seem ideal supports for metalpoint. More to come.

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Related
January
Metalpoint

Jeopardized

"Hairy Nose Wombat"

These are a few more digital drawings and paintings of animal species on the verge of extinction, at least in the wild. All of these animals exist in tiny numbers in the wild and in zoos around the world. The cute little fellow in the first painting is a native of Australia, the Northern Hairy Nosed Wombat, which lives in only one tiny area and comprises perhaps 250 individuals. This particular species is one of only three, all Australian. They may be cute and even cuddly but regardless, the loss of any species results in a significant change in the ecology, often damaging. It seems quite likely that this particular species will vanish very soon, but perhaps there is hope. Fifteen years ago or so estimates were half that number.

"Amur Tiger"

The Amur Tiger used to be known as the Siberian Tiger and unlike it's cousins in India it lives in Russia, North Korea, and China. These are the largest cats in the world, reaching as much as 650 pounds and 10 or 11 feet in length, nose to tail. Like all endangered species their biggest threat is humans because of habitat loss and hunting. There may be about 500 of these animals remaining. As the climate in their northern habitat rises and humans continue to encroach, these tigers are going to be under severe pressure.

"Northern White Rhinosceros (female)"

Many are familiar with the plight of the northern white rhinoceros. So far as I know there are only two remaining, both female. The last male died several years ago. It may still be possible to revivie the species with artificial means, but the odds seem small. There are actually two species of rhinos, the black rhino and the white. One of the main, easily-seen differences is the white rhinoceros has a squared-off lip while the lip of the black rhino comes to a central pointed tip. The southern white rhinoceros is the most numerous--numbering maybe 20,000. One of the most serious threats has been hunting these animals for their horn, which is sold in certain parts of the world in powdered form as an aphrodisiac, though it is in fact worthless for that. These animals have mostly rebounded form serious depletion in the 20th century, but poaching and habitat loss due to climate alterations and mankind remain problematic. 

"Orangutans"

The final species in today's group of endangered species is the orangutan. There are actually three species of orangutan, and although estimates of their numbers vary, all are considered critically endangered. Orangutans reproduce infrequently--every 6 or 8 years. Besides their low reproductivity their forest habitat is shrinking in Indonesia and Malaysia, their principal range. Highly intelligent, tool-using, and wise-appearing, these "old beings of the forest" seem very likely to disappear within the near future, and all they can do is watch and wait.

The continued shrinkage of habitat, killing by humans (intentional or accidental), the change in climate and the enormous destruction of world ecology should make every one of us afraid. Moreover, will climate change ever be considered and emergency?

Dying Out

Extinction of many many species is a reality that is more harsh every day of this century. The precise number of species that are in critical danger isn't clear (after all, we don't even know how many species there actually are) but without doubt the number is in the thousands, more likely the tens of thousands. The loss of biodiversity and the rupturing fabric of world ecology seems poised to accelerate as the planet's climates change. We are all, all species, in danger. The current losses are simply the first wave in a looming mass extinction event that could devastate the planet.

These past weeks part of my daily drawing practice has involved drawing endangered species, partly out of sympathy and partly out of interest and partly to raise my own and others' awareness of the magnitude of the problem. The idea is to study these creatures before they are completely gone. As such these images are simple statements of fact--these animals that are disappearing, some more rapidly than others. Perhaps someone who sees these drawings may be moved to work on the problem.

Hoff, "Cheetah," digital painting

The first animal image posted is of an African cheetah, which isn't endangered, strictly speaking, but close. The cheetah, fastest land animal, is considered "vulnerable," a step slightly above endangered. But loss of habitat and hunting are serious threats to these animals, though many now exist in zoos. This particular image is a complete digital painting.

Hoff, "The Koala," digital painting

The koala is now under serious threat because of bushfires in Australia and humans encroaching on its habitat. The Australian fires killed many koala and destroyed immense areas of eucalyptus forest, its home and its food source. According to current estimates, thousands of individuals are left, but the slaughter of these animals by fire and by humans has reached a tipping point of "functional extinction." The term means that it is likely not enough koala will be able to come together to maintain the species. The fires have destroyed their homes. Many will likely starve. They produce offspring once a year. The outcome may be grim. Perhaps Australia will save their national symbol. I fervently hope so. 

Hoff, "Bonobo," digital

Another African species in significant danger is the bonobo, one of the four great ape species, along with gorillas, chimpanzees, and orangutans. They resemble chimps and were once thought to be pygmy chimpanzees but are now known as a clearly separate species with very different social and behavioral patterns. And they are significantly endangered by shrinking space to live. Moreover these delightful and intelligent cousins of ours are sometimes still hunted to be eaten--so-called "bush meat." Happily, efforts have been underway for decades to save these creatures. This bonobo was purposely given an expression suggesting questioning disgust.

Hoff, "Ring Tail," digital painting

The last for today is a digital painting of a ring-tailed lemur, a species that is in severe danger of extinction. Lemurs all live on Madagascar, where their habitat shrinks with human expansion. These animals are down to fewer than 2000, and perhaps only a few hundred remain in the wild.

The creatures in these drawings are mostly cute, or admirable, or us humans have some kind of emotional involvement with them. But there are thousand of less attractive, or dangerous, or downright disgusting creatures. Some estimates place the number of endangered species in the tens of thousands, with more being added continuously. The list of endangered species in the planet varies from source to source. Regardless, we are killing our fellow creatures at an ever-accelerating pace.

What must we do? What will we do?

It makes me terribly sad.

January

Last month was snowy and cold, which drove me indoors to the studio. Staying inside instead of forging into the deep freeze doesn't mean no landscapes last month, though. The ample snow and changeability were great source material just outside the studio windows. Most of the work I did last month was watercolor or watercolor and ink, but I also managed a couple of silverpoint drawings. Those I did on small gesso panels that have been taking up space in the studio. I posted one of those here a couple of weeks ago.

Watercolor is simple, quick, portable, and if not forgiving, at least easily disposed of when the results aren't optimal. So for rapid sketches and impressions watercolor is my choice. Digital is a convenient tool for drawing too, but tablets haven't been as useful in my practice, and I seldom use an iPad or other tablet for rapid sketches outdoors (they're useful indoors though). For more considered and deliberate work, one of my favorites is silverpoint. Metalpoint is a different animal entirely, required slow and considered application of the stylus with a very deliberate attitude and effort. Silverpoint is slow. Watercolor can be quick.

Hoff, "Spruce in the Snow," silverpoint on gesso panel, 4x6

The silverpoint drawing posted above was finished near the end of January on a cold, grey and slightly snowy day following a big storm. A spruce in the copse of trees across Druid Hill Creek from my studio was draped in snow and the surrounding woods had gone ghostly and pale in the slightly misty-foggy air. It was challenging (as silverpoint can often be) to achieve appropriate value separation, but in the end things often come together. This one is part of a series of silverpoints I've been making this winter. The medium is challenging but rewards diligence with improving skills. My current plan is to make this into an occasional series.

The other thing I've been doing with these silverpoints is trying out small gesso panels as substrates. So far the gesso works like a dream for drawing with metals Nonetheless, this ground accepts the metal readily and provides enough tooth and substance to allow for decent value separations. Gold is softer and may be even better on this surface, but that remains in the future.

Hoff, "Snowy Banks Downstream," watercolor on gesso panel, 4x6

Watercolor was the primary medium I used last month, for reasons already mentioned. One of the best views of the snowy outdoors is north, downstream, on the creek so I sorted out a few to post.

This first watercolor from early in the month (left) was done on the same sort of gesso panel as the silverpoint above. Normally my watercolor support is one kind of paper or another, often in small sketchbooks. But given the number of gesso panels in the studio, it occurred to me that those might serve as good substrates for water media. The surface is quite absorbent, as one would expect, and accepts watercolor readily. Because this was an experiment I used a tiny 4x6 panel that had been stained by something in the studio long ago. The subject was the snowy banks of Druid Hill Creek, downstream. As a test it served well, as a painting? Perhaps. In my eyes at least the yellow stains actually enhance the work.

Hoff, "Snow Day," watercolor on paper, 5x7

For comparison, a couple of other watercolors on paper are interesting. The first is the same downstream view I've used so often in these paintings, this time after that same heavy snowfall that left the spruce tree above so snow-draped. This composition ignored the trees along the left bank to emphasize instead the depths of the snow in the creek bed and tantalize the eye into the grey distance. The light was flat and diffuse that day.

The last of January gave us a return of sunshine and warmth. The snow began to recede, the creek thawed and flowed dark like coffee between banks of marshmallow dollops. In the 5x7 watercolor at the left, you can see lumps of snow standing in the creek and the water is open and reflective. The sun catches distant patches of grey-gold grasses and trees and promises us light and warmth and spring. Tra la.

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Metalpoint