Artfest Midwest Coming This Weekend

This is arts week, officially or otherwise, in Des Moines. The week is filled arts-related events at various venues, even an ice cream social at Mainframe Studios. The week is always topped by the 3 day Des Moines Arts Festival beginning Friday in Gateway park, downtown. But there are always two art shows in the city, a particular luxury for central Iowans. The downtown show attracts artists and vendors from across the country. The (unofficial) "other art show," Artfest Midwest , is also a national show with vendors from several states, but makes central Iowa arts and crafts its centerpiece. Each of our shows has its merits and minuses of course, but the good news is there is a lot of art to see, admire, and purchase.

This year I'll again be exhibiting new work at Artfest Midwest, which I find attractive because it is indoors and comfortable--no rain, no wind, no heat and no bugs. The focus is on the art and the artists, which is always a plus.

"Outside the Brewpub (study)," oil on panel, 8x10

A large part of my recent work in oil has been cityscapes, particularly streets and buildings in and around here. In particular I'm interested in the city and all of its features, from vintage buildings to how light bounces around between them to the way people can be caught in their daily routines. Des Moines is a particularly fruitful place to study those things. As an example, here is a small color study "Outside the Brewpub," featuring the facade of a popular local microbrewery. This study and the larger work will both be part of the exhibition, this Saturday and Sunday at the Varied Industries Building, Iowa State Fairgrounds.

Come on out and schmooze--it's great to see old and new friends and collectors.

Feeding on Her Pain

Frida Kahlo, "Self portrait," 1926

One of my favorite artists is Frida Kahlo, whose art resonates more than sixty years after her death. Once an obscure foreign artist, Frida Kahlo has become astonishingly famous. Partly this is because Ms. Kahlo's personal history is fascinating and horror-filled: poliomyelitis at six (with a withered leg); sexual abuse in childhood; a mutilating accident at nineteen that left her unable to bear children and ended her ambition to be a doctor; and a sad yet loving marriage to Diego Rivera, a famous Mexican artist. More importantly though, it is how her life informed her work that has caught the imagination of many people. It reminds me a bit of how Vincent van Gogh became famous a century or so ago--his work and life have become almost interchangeable.

Although Ms. Kahlo had already received some instruction in drawing and engraving from a friend of her father's, she only started painting during her months-long recovery from horrific injuries she received in a bus-streetcar accident. She was so severely injured (her pelvis fractured and impaled by a metal rail, vertebral injuries) that she was in pain for her remaining years. Yet during those years she produced striking and original art. By 1928 she was beginning to think she might be able to make a living as a medical illustrator, combining her interest in art with her studies in science. She had been introduced to Diego Rivera, who at the time was arguably the most famous Mexican artist, so she asked him to evaluate her work. He wrote later that he was impressed with her severity and her honesty as well as her ability to precisely delineate character in the portraits she showed him.

For me it is her vision and her unflinching eyes, her ability to see and show the world without illusions that make her great. Before you can paint a thing you must see it clearly. Her first self portrait is ample evidence of her talent (1926, above) in seeing. It shows a young, almost defiant woman whose plunging neckline and swan-like neck emphasize her smoldering sexuality. Her eyes fix us with a suggestive, knowing look. You can see the fierceness and sexuality of her personality. Often alone, isolated by her injuries and pain, she had ample time to look inward and reflect on the world and its inhabitants. In a real sense, her art fed on the physical and emotional pain, grew into visual statements of psychological torment.

Frida Kahlo, "The Broken Column," 1944

During her lifetime, although she was recognized by many as a genuine talent (and indeed she had one-person shows in New York and Paris and was hailed by Andre Breton, among others) she was overshadowed by Mr. Rivera, whose fame was worldwide. Although she travelled with him to the sites of several commissions in the U.S., she was relegated to the sidelines. Nonetheless, Ms. Kahlo painted in her own way and with her own vision. Her self portraits, family portraits and myriad other works only became well-known in the last decades of the 20th century. Before that she was simply another obscure foreign painter, known by some but unknown by many.

These days, though, the whole world has fallen for Frida Kahlo--there is even a term for it: Fridolatry. There are all kinds of Kahlo tchotchkes, from museum tote bags to coffee cups to reproductions to even clothing. Perhaps it is because she was a realist painter whose art is readily understood, accessible to most, and because it is based in her suffering. She underwent countless surgeries, encasement in plaster, more surgeries, serious side-effects, gangrenous toes and eventual leg amputation. But through it she continued her voluminous journals, drawings, paintings, and political activism. She was tough, and people like that too. While many of her paintings are imbued with her pain, some address it directly. A good example, The Broken Column, she painted after a spinal surgery in 1944, nearly 20 years after her injuries, to correct resulting spinal deformities. The viewer can see through her torso to view the broken Ionic column of her spine, pieced together. Unlike many of her other self portraits, she is alone in a vast, blasted landscape, weeping. Yet her innate sexuality and strength are still there despite the piercing nails and dreadful injuries.

Given the current popularity of Ms. Kahlo, it's no surprise that the Victoria and Albert Museum in England has now mounted a show dedicated to her and her work. The new exhibition is called Frida Kahlo: Making Herself Up and is interesting because although some of her paintings are included, much of the show involves her possessions--cosmetics, colorful clothing, collection of plaster corsets, and other artifacts. Although it sounds ghoulish, there's even a prosthetic leg, decked out in one of her bright red boots. At least one reviewer found the exhibition eye-opening, providing a different viewpoint of Frida Kahlo. Another reviewer commented that the art, not the possessions is what matters.

You can see until September if you're in London, and decide for yourself.

BP Portrait Awards

The results of this year's BP Portrait Award competition were announced this week. The BP Portrait Award carries a cash prize plus world recognition. Sponsored by British Petroleum, the competition began forty years or so ago and limited to artists in the UK, though now it is now open universally. The finalists this year were decidedly eclectic in origin, training, and locale. Likewise, the paintings selected fell within a fairly wide range of the definition of portraiture.

Felicia Forte, "Time Traveller, Matthew Napping," 2017

For example, the second prize went to American painter Felicia Forte, a depiction of a friend sleeping, the figure strongly foreshortened against a background of vertical green and orange stripes. To my eye, this is a figurative work rather than a portrait, but the BP judges obviously think differently so I won't argue. An incandescent lamp burns white alongside the blue bed. The subject's face is nearly the smallest patch of color in the work. Although this is called a portrait, some would be hard-pressed to find a likeness.

On the other hand, the third prize winner was a traditional head and shoulders painting of a human subject, "Simone," a boy who lived in Florence, Italy next door to the painter. The winner, Tongyao Zhu, was studying at the Accademia di Belle Arti di Firenze after having attended the China Central Academy of Fine Arts. This work is solidly within the European portrait tradition, showing chest and shoulders, well-modelled features, and exceptional light handling. There is a reference to differing cultures in the church buildings in the background, a device similar to those of the Italian Renaissance. It is a tour-de-force of academic painting.

Miriam Escofet, "An Angel At My Table"

The actual winner, "An Angel at my Table" isn't a traditional portrait, either. Nonetheless, calling this painting a portrait makes perfect sense. The painting is actually a portrait of the the artist's mother, but it is also considerably more. There is an innocent-appearing still life spread on a crisply-rendered linen cloth, but after the first quick glance you see the individual objects take on a surreal appearance--partly there and partly absent, strangely out of perspective and unbalanced, their vanishing point within the chest of the woman. The woman is elderly, bemused, her cheeks and hands ruddy with good physical health. She does not look at us the way a traditional sitter does but gazes to her left, out of the frame. The garment she wears suggests a housecoat or perhaps a nightgown of thick fabric.

The use of the term "portrait" for this painting is apt in my view. The metaphor in the still life objects seems to deal with the sitter's inner consciousness, inner beauty, and perhaps fragility too, while the poignant likeness gives us a look at her from a different vantage point.

One word: Brava!

Editorial Drawing and Cartooning

Thomas Nast, "Let Us Prey," engraving 1871

Long ago, while I was still in school, I used to devour the editorial cartoons in my hometown paper. In the 1950s, it seemed as if every newspaper had a cartoonist whose job was a daily cartoon commenting on the news. Every day or so the paper would print the cartoonists' pithy and humorous takes on the news of the day. Like columnists, cartoonists were mostly independent and important public voices. Today there are fewer on staff of daily newspapers as the publishing paradigm shifts, but political cartooning is alive and well.

The tradition of political or editorial cartooning is fairly old, perhaps ancient and dating to Roman times, but certainly dating to the 17th century. The mostly single-panel cartoons of today are different than early political and moral satires, of course. Early satirical engravings were often made into narratives by artists such as William Hogarth who produced moral tales--"A Rake's Progress" for example--that remain well-known today.

Of course, political and social commentary has changed in the ensuing centuries, but the idea of pithy and telling visual comments remains strong. Today more political cartoonists ply their trade via the Internet and many fewer are associated with newspapers. Nonetheless, their voices are strong and their audiences are actually larger. You have to go looking for them, but editorial cartooning is widely available these days.

One of the best remembered political cartoonists in this country was Thomas Nast, whose savage attacks on the corrupt Tammany Hall political machine brought down William "Boss" Tweed in the late 19th century. Mr. Nast was a prolific cartoonist whose works were well-known before his anti-Tammany campaign. He is also known for having invented the elephant as the symbol of the Republican party and also noted for his widely-adopted depiction of Santa Claus. It's also notable that he was a German immigrant. The engraving posted here is an excellent example of his brutal commentary, depicting Boss Tweed and his cronies feeding on the body and bones of New York City. The efforts of Nast and others resulted in the downfall of the entire ring that Fall of 1871. Mr. Nast became the paradigm of the crusading cartoonist, and many others followed in his footsteps.

Ding Darling, "The Long Long Trail," 1919

In my own hometown of Des Moines "Ding" Darling, whose sharp eye and wit won him two Pulitzer prizes, was the reigning political cartoonist until the middle of the 20th century. Although he worked in Des Moines with a stint in New York City, his predominant efforts were for the Des Moines Register during the first half of the last century. He is remembered these days not only for his brilliant cartooning but also for his tireless efforts on behalf of wildlife management and protection of habitat. The Ding Darling Foundation continues his work and protects his artistic output. A good example of his work is "The Long Long Trail," printed as a memorial at the time of Theodore Roosevelt's death in 1919. The image was reproduced many times and is probably Darling's most famous.

When I was much younger one of my secret desires was to be one of those guys who could draw with the kind of panache required of cartoonists and make their work cut through the pomposity and posturing that's part and parcel of all politics. I never did make that kind of cartoon, but these days I've been drawing the faces and expressions of politicians and other well-known people. It's part of my daily routine of drawing or sketching using online images. The drawings aren't cartoons, exactly, because they don't employ caricature and they are intended to be close to realistic.

This is a vignetted digital drawing done (as were all of these) using Sketchbook and a Wacom Cintiq tablet. The main point of this drawing was the cut of Mr. McConnell's gaze during a press session following yet another failure of the Congress to repeal the Affordable Care Act. By his comments and actions at the time he seemed bewildered that the American public hadn't heartily embraced his party's attempts to remove health insurance coverage for millions of their fellow citizens. Capturing expressions is difficult for me, but I thought this one hit the mark.

Another daily drawing last year was of Mr. Sessions, the Attorney General. His tenure in office had been (to put it mildly) turbulent, what with the firing of Mr. Comey from his post as Director of the FBI, the appointing of Mr. Mueller as Special Prosecutor, his own recusal and so on. Although he's still in office, his repeated public mistreatment by the president has continued. This particular drawing was an attempt to draw Mr. Sessions as he appeared in a news photograph that year. Now that I look at it again he seems bemused and strangely rather good humored in spite of being humiliated.

This drawing of a survivor of the Parkland school massacre came from a news photo a month or so after the killings. The deep sorrow on the young woman's face was difficult to see and even harder to draw. There is resignation, outrage, sorrow, suffering, and more in the face of that young woman. I wish I had done a better job with this one.









Drawing political figures is a great way to practice, regardless of the medium. You could do it with a number 2 pencil and printer paper very easily, and the features and expressions of public figures are quite familiar to anyone who spends some time watching and reading current news. Quite often the emotional content of the related story adds considerable depth to the resultant image.

Painting as a Pastime

Winston Churchill, "Winter Sunshine," oil on canvas, 1925

The British politician and statesman Winston Churchill was a passionate and highly skilled amateur painter. Although he didn't discover oil painting until he was middle-aged he spent the remainder of his life making them. There are any number of photos of Mr. Churchill in a long smock painting something outdoors. He even published a small volume, "Painting as a Pastime" in which he outlines his experience, passion, and thoughts about why a person should take up painting. Lest one think he was an amateur dauber, an inspection of only two works is informative.

Winston Churchill, "Loup River, Alpes Maritimes," oil on canvas, 1930

In 1947 he had two works accepted to the Royal Academy summer exhibition that he entered under a pseudonym. One of them was "Winter Sunshine," painted in 1925 when he was already 51 years old. The work is distinctly influenced by the Impressionist movement of his youth--Monet, Sisley, et al. This is accomplished work and by no means amateurish either in composition or palette. The artist has captured the low-angled warmth of winter sun on bricks and snow. It's no surprise that it was accepted. It was only after the jury voted that the actual artist's name was revealed. (The other is "Loup River, Alpes Maritimes," painted in 1930.)

Dwight Eisenhower, "Landscape," oil on canvas, 1950

There are other members of the same club--politicians who took up painting later in life. The list includes Dwight Eisenhower, president during the 1950s, who began painting while Chief of Staff of the Army and whose curiosity is said to have been piqued by watching Thomas Stephens painting a portrait of his wife, Mamie. He was an earnest and committed amateur the rest of his life, mostly making landscapes that are reminiscent of the paintings of Bob Ross. Mr. Eisenhower had no illusions about his ability but loved the activity. He was once quoted as saying to reporter Richard Cohen at a museum exhibition of his work, "They would have burned this [expletive] a long time ago if I weren’t the president of the United States.”

George W. Bush, "Manmohan Singh," oil oi canvas

Another former president, George W. Bush took up painting around 2012 a few years after leaving office and later hosted an exhibition of his works at his presidential library. Mr. Bush seems to be as passionate about his work as Churchill and less sanguine about it than Eisenhower. His paintings are surprisingly eclectic and emotional; they range from a portrait of Saddam Hussein as a clown to a group portrait of wounded soldiers to a portrait of his dog. Mr. Bush's work is heartfelt, it seems, if somewhat untutored and naive (he has had a bit of training) but he continues to work hard and more recent works show advancement in skills. His portraits of veterans are staggeringly more accomplished than his early (or less personally engaged?) works. The occasional piece owes strong homage to Lucien Freud.

George W. Bush, "Lt. Col. Kent Graham Solheim," oil on canvas

Sketching Druid Hill Creek 8

The month of May is finally over. Last month I speculated about whether or not April actually lived up to T.S. Eliot's famous comment about cruelty and eventually decided that it did. But that was before May. Last month was the coldest on record (whoops, what about climate change?), but then May was the hottest ever--the opposite. Whipsawing weather is probably part of the things that are

happening to the climate I suppose. Nonetheless the warming and wet weather spawned amazing growth along Druid Hill Creek.

One of the pleasures of watching the seasons change and advance is how much difference a single day can make. This month, with heat and rain, the lawn grew five inches in the five days we spent out of town. In that time, iris bloomed and peonies became heavy with buds. Most of the bulbs in our formal gardens had flowered and faded, but along the creek a few days after we returned, drifts of wild phlox burst into view. They aren't true phlox and some consider them weeds, but I like their scent and color in the woods. Above them the trees were in full leaf, and the creek ran shallow and clear at the foot of an old mulberry tree just upstream and on the opposite bank. The white and muddy mauves of the wildflowers were complimented by yellow wild iris in the muddy shallows.

Every day of plus 90 degree heat and wet to moist soil bolstered growth but had the negative of hastening the maturity and seeding of flowering plants. So peony flowers lasted perhaps five days and iris flowers even less. When early May is cooler narcissi, iris and peonies are slower to flower and the blossoms last longer.

The honeysuckle and wild rose undergrowth continued to thicken and the woods became darker and gloomier at the feet of the big cottonwoods and walnut trees. Our few ancient mulberry trees across the creek filled in over the understory. I sketched the small watercolor to the right during a respite from the May showers that made it feel steamy as South Carolina outside.

By the end of the month the woods had become luxuriant and as thickly grown as I've seen in more than thirty years along Druid Hill Creek. The greens are nearly yellow where sunbeams penetrate. Trunks are pale umber-brown, especially where shadows fall across in scimitars. Sketching outdoors is comfortable until the no-seeums, gnats, flies, and other biting critters come along. I quickly learned to use repellent and not worry about details all that much as the bugs tried to carry me away.

The past four months of sketching along the creek feel productive. I spent a good deal of time simply observing, trying to see what was happening out there along the creek banks. Not only did the project make me concentrate on how things look and change, it also became a near-daily ritual, sketching what I saw. In sum, a continuing project like this is an opportunity to grow wider artist's eyes. Working series on the same subject means closer attention and much much better understanding of whatever has drawn your eye. Monet understood.

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Previously
Druid Hill Creek Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6

Part 7

Favorite Art Books 13

Several years ago I reviewed How to Draw, an excellent text by Scott Roberson and Thomas Bertling as one of my favorite art books. That particular book provides absolutely solid information on how to draw most objects (not faces or figures) and how to do it in proportion and perspective. The book has the added advantage of allowing access to video content recorded during development of drawings for the book. In that review I highly recommended the book.

Since that post in 2015 I acquired the authors' companion text How to Render which was published in 2014. Like the previous book, this one is clearly written, well-organized, and provides excellent information. Its early chapters do provide a review of drawing in perspective but Roberson and Bertling recommend strongly that the reader first have a good working knowledge of those principles. While the reader will gain insight into many of the issues involved in rendering objects in space, knowing how to produce a believable and accurate drawing is fundamental. So this book is not as likely to be as useful to a very new artist.

Understanding three face lighting, from "How to Render"

The authors begin with a careful introduction to basics--types of light and shadows and how shadows are cast on all sorts of shapes. They provide a very brief review of principles of perspective, but again recommend mastering the content of their first book before going too deeply into this one. The middle chapters of the book provide excellent introductions to rendering all kinds of forms from the simple geometric forms everyone learns in school to much more complex shapes.

Although the book may seem to be aimed at digital artists, the authors make a strong case that one must learn with traditional materials first. "Not having the option to 'undo' necessitates pre-visualizing an image and improves the decision-making process." Accordingly, they show ways to render using graphite, markers, pastel, water media, and other media. Importantly, they are rightly adamant that it is practice that brings skill and judgement, regardless of the medium being used. That isn't to say that the authors slight digital means of rendering. In fact they devote considerable space to digital methods and certain programs, notably Sketchbook and Photoshop.

Examples of reflections from "How to Render"

One the most valuable section of the book for me deals with rendering reflective surfaces. They begin with very basic information about the interaction of light with solid objects then transition to the properties of reflections as related to the kind of surface encountered. The penultimate chapter deals with rendering all sorts of surfaces--metals, wood, glass, plastic, and many more.

This is a relatively advanced book for realist artists regardless of medium. In order to derive the most benefit from the book, I would recommend a thorough understanding of the authors' previous book, "How to Draw." Nonetheless, this book is highly recommended.

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Previous in this series
Favorite Art Books 12
Favorite Art Books 11 (links to Parts 1-10)

Attacking Art

Ilya Repin, "Ivan and His Son Ivan" 1885

This week, besides politics, a big news story was an attack on a painting. A famous painting by the 19th century Russian master, Ilya Repin, was seriously damaged by a drunken man a few days ago. According to the story, the man had come to Moscow and visited the State Tretyakov gallery, drank too much vodka in the bar and then smashed the painting, it's glass cover and frame. 

Artwork has been attacked many times, and for many reasons. In this case it was intoxication, but people have slashed masterpieces with knives, thrown acid, overpainted them with thrown or sprayed paint, stuck chewing gum on them, and even completely erased them. Crazed men with hammers have attacked the Michelangelo "Pieta" in Rome and the "David" in Florence.

Rembrandt, "Danae," 1636 (restored)

It's an interesting catalog of artworks that have been defaced, destroyed or otherwise altered. Even the Mona Lisa has suffered damage (once with acid) and is now behind bulletproof glass.

Danae after acid attack

Rembrandt has come in for plenty of attention too. His 1636 painting "Danae," (in the Hermitage) was splashed with sulfuric acid and slashed almost into oblivion, though it has been expertly restored. And besides that, Rembrandt's "Night Watch" has also been attacked several times, the worst in the 1970s when a madman slashed it several dozen times because he had been turned away after closing time the day before.

Attacking art seems motivated most commonly by derangement--most of the culprits have been somehow insane--but other motives have been cited. A woman slashed the Rokeby Venus, the only known nude by Velazquez--in 1914 to protest the arrest of a sister suffragette the day before. A fellow who later made a great deal of money as an art dealer painted "KILL LIES" in foot-high red letters across Picasso's "Guernica" and then proclaimed, "I am an artist," and claimed to be collaborating with Picasso. Luckily, the paint was removed and the "artist" was not charged. 

It isn't feasible to separate the public from artworks except in rare cases. The Mona Lisa is certainly an exception as is Michelangelo's Pieta (now behind glass and farther away from visitors). But others like Night Watch remain on public display and even when protected by glass are still vulnerable. 

Art must be approachable, available for concentrated study, for deep consideration; that's not possible when it's boxed in and protected. Preservation from the public may be mandatory for certain of our cultural heritage, but let's hope the rest remains open to us.

Drawing? Or Sketching?

The words "drawing" and "sketching" are commonly used as synonyms. Yet they actually do denote different things. A visual sketch is usually meant to be a quickly-made image intended as a visual notation or impression and may comprise only a few shapes or lines; a drawing is a considerably more finished and detailed. Drawings are in general more tightly rendered; sketches are more loosey-goosey.

A drawing in the strictest sense is a picture of something that gives formal and accurate representation of the object being viewed. A completed drawing takes considerable time. In contrast, a sketch provides a looser image and more general idea of the object. One way to think of the difference is to look at a machine drawing or an electronic schematic then study an amusement park caricature. The machine drawing probably took hours to days at least, even using computer assistance, but is an accurate graphic description of a machine. The caricature took only a few minutes to show prominent (recognizable but exaggerated) features of a person.

Al Hirschfeld, "Jerry Garcia," ink, 1995

Drawings are not sketches, but sketches can be called drawings, the latter the more general term. Drawings are made with all kinds of media and in all kinds of ways. Although "drawing" implies detail and a formal approach, it may as easily be broadened to define all kinds of image-making, detailed or not.

Although most caricatures are sketches, they can be drawings instead. The caricatures of Al Hirschfeld are prime examples of masterfully-drawn caricatures, each compact, inimitable drawing carefully considered and executed. Mr. Hirschfeld (who died in 2003 at 100) claimed not to know how his drawings developed and said they simply happened somehow looking more like the individual than the person did. Regardless, these are fully drawings, complete in themselves, and not quick loose impressions.

"Head of a Warrior, after da Vinci," silverpoint, 2011

On the other hand, a drawing is most commonly not a sketch. This copy of a famous silverpoint by Leonardo is a finished drawing, complete to nearly the most minute detail, especially in the helmet and face. This copy was drawn in silverpoint as well but limited to the head and helmet; the original is a bust. Nonetheless, note the detailing of helmet, hair, and head. This is a completed drawing and clearly not a sketch.

Attributed to da Vinci, "St. Sebastian," ink on paper

Sometimes, the experts can confuse us. Here is a pen and ink sketch of St. Sebastian, the one who is commonly shown pierced by many arrows. This image figured in a recent item about its discovery. This has been called a drawing in many of the articles written about it, and attributed to Leonardo da Vinci. It was certainly done by a left-handed artist so the attribution could be accurate. On the other hand it is is clearly a sketch--fast (study the pen strokes), loose (ditto) and incomplete--not a finished drawing. This is a sketch study for a larger work and not, strictly speaking, a drawing.

Does any of this matter, in the end? My take is probably not. The representation of this sketch, Leonardo or not, as a drawing has more to do with marketing and less to do with description of the art. Is it worth less if you call it a sketch? I suspect not, since most of the value in the piece is its authorship.

In my own case much of what I do in watermedia is sketching. Sometimes I make a finished work in watercolor or casein, intended to stand alone. Most of my drawing is actually sketching too, though sometimes a portrait sketch happens in whatever medium I happen to have at hand, including pixels. Paradoxically, I always think of those as drawings.

Here is a drawing of Della, my granddaughter, done from a reference photo and personal observations. The drawing was made using Sketchbook and a Wacom Cintiq tablet. Despite visible construction marks and other features that could classify this as a sketch, I think of this as a focused drawing. It eliminates unneeded details to concentrate on her central features and expression.

Florida Sketches

We've just returned from a few days visiting family in central Florida. For those not familiar with spring weather patterns there, lets just say "rainy." The temperatures weren't bad--highs in the middle 80s--but the humidity was almost never below 90 percent and rain came daily and often. Showers, thundershowers, lightning, and dark skies were the general rule, punctuated by occasional sunny moments.

Bradenton, watercolor, 3x6

Outdoor sketching was difficult at best, despite the bordering conservation area that boasted all sorts of wildlife as well as flora that seemed very exotic to this midwesterner. Although in the week or so of our visit I managed a walk or two, there was little time for drawing. Nonetheless the view from what Floridians call the lanai and we would call a screened patio encompassed the jungle (you can't call it woods). And in fact it rewarded us with several sightings of various species. A small group of a half-dozen white-tail deer came out to browse one afternoon during a rain shower.

I had no chance to sketch the deer--too far away in the misty aftermath of the rain--but the jungle was an easy subject. Full of all sorts of palm varieties, low-growing and upper scaffolding of non-palms as well as infinite sheltering branches, vines, decaying vegetation and the like, the shades and tints of green seemed infinite and challenging. I did manage this small sketch, accentuated by ink.

Sand hill crane, watercolor, 3x5

More remarkably four nonchalant sand hill cranes, which are non-migratory there, once came walking across the open green space and passed slowly between houses, bound for a small lake across the street. These big birds (something like ten pounds each and over two feet tall) stalk around the heavily forested conservation area, hunting, but are completely unconcerned about humans. I sketched one adult on a different occasion as he or she stood silently near a small puddle, almost a statue, probably hunting. Their eyes have a yellow-gold color beneath their red foreheads. I added a very few light touches of ink with a fine-tipped technical pen.


In the end my sketching was confined to the screened patio and the occasional restaurant visit. Alas the outdoors had to wait for our return to Iowa.

Sketching Druid Hill Creek 7

The month of May has been considerably gentler (and less cruel) than April. May began with more warmth and sunshine as the honeysuckle undergrowth along the creek exploded into leaf. The first few days were fair and gentle and as the warm weather really took hold the trees and brush turned lush. My view of Druid Hill Creek from the studio is downstream and north but later this month my plan is move the sketching station outside and make a few sketches upstream too.

The first May sketch of the creek shows one of the river willows outside my studio. It came up voluntarily several years ago and I've left it there, watching as it gains size and height. Behind it, on the opposite bank, the honeysuckle and other undergrowth had gotten noticeably larger by early in the month. I laid this in with a mixture of raw umber and ivory black reserving white paper here and there. Over that the leaves and plants were indicated with various mixes of green and yellow. To finish the sketch I used a technical pen to outline and indicate branches and the trunk.

Although most of the time I haven't added the enormous cottonwoods and other old trees that line the upper banks of the creek because I was more interested in the creek and water. Sometimes I simply indicated the presence of these old behemoths, but mostly edited them out. On day early in the month, though, I sketched one of them, a fifty-foot monster cottonwood with giant branches. Using the same procedure I laid in the initial drawing lightly then painted over with a dark mix of umber and black. The tree was nearly leafed out as were the rest of its neighbors. Druid Hill Creek is a fairly mature area of triple canopy woods consisting of a high canopy, middle growth of smaller trees, undergrowth and then the banks. Since this was a quick morning sketch I concentrated on the trunk and closest canopy of leaves, merely indicated the other layers.

May progresses much faster than other months of Spring, owing to warmth and rain. By the end of the first week of this month, the view downstream from the studio looks very much like wilderness even though people have lived along the creek for more than 150 years. The morning that I did this watercolor and ink painting I had more time.

One of the great things about a project of this kind is the opportunity to concentrate on a single motif, but time and other work will probably limit these sketches for a while, especially with the newly glorious spring weather.

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Previously
Druid Hill Creek Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6

Animals

"Pan," digital, 2018

The ability to draw a variety of different subjects is indispensable for a realist. It isn't enough to capture a human likeness or figure. If you're going to be placing your human subject in a believable milieu you might need to draw furniture, or interiors, or buildings or cars. Or animals.

Drawing animals is a challenge for me. Some artists avoid drawing animals at all, or have no need to draw them given their particular subject matter. You don't usually see a giraffe in floral painting. On the other hand, learning the structure of animals and their movements could contribute mightily to history paintings, genre works, animal portraits, and so on. And at its most basic, learning to draw animals of any kind is a way to stretch my mental and artistic muscles. So I draw various animals, trying to understand structure and movement. Sometimes, as with the digital drawing here titled "Pan,"there is a spark of expression or a particular characteristic of interest, too. Of course, sometimes these are simply studies, done for information and practice.

This drawing was completed in graphite on a toned sheet. This dog was one of the Army's canine partners but has been retired and lives with it's previous master. I was taken by the dignity--real or only perceived--in the animal. It's about 5x6. As it is in drawing humans, understanding the skeletal underpinning of an animal, from skull to tail, is critical, so studies of all sorts of animals is useful. Happily, many animals share similar limb structures and so on. Dogs, horses, tigers, and even elephants share very similar bony arrangements. The same goes for the axial skeleton--the spinal column and skull. So studying one animal is in effect a way to study almost all.

In this drawing there's a narrative (as indicated by the title--"Moving Day"). For whatever reason, the mother cat is moving one of her kittens. The size of the kitten suggest it may only be a few days old. I did this from a reference photo but placed the cat descending a staircase. The actual reference was different. Again this was done in graphite on a toned sketchbook sheet, about 5.5x8.5 Here it's critical to draw the limb and axial anatomy solidly, so knowledge of the limbs is indispensable.

The final drawing in this group is a digital sketch of an imagined cat, based on a photo of a truly annoyed feline waiting to be let indoors. I added the rain and wet fur plus dripping and so on. Anyone who has ever lived with a cat knows this expression.



For a book that provides a tremendous amount of information about drawing animals in an inexpensive volume, try "How To Draw Animals," by Jack Hamm. Originally published almost 50 years ago, it remains an important reference in my studio library.

Sketching and Flow

Posts about the value of sketching get repetitive, but what that really means to me is how important regular sketching can be.

Sketching means doing quick but well-observed and considered drawing(s) whatever qualifier might be added. For example, some people want to define "quick" more precisely. Some people sketch with very limited tools--something to mark on and something to make marks. Sketching is something you can do with almost any medium, from oil paint to pastel to graphite. It isn't the medium that is important. The repeated activity itself, the mental and aesthetic gymnastics coupled with careful observation, is the secret. Humans learn best by repetition. Sketches are often more lively than studio works, too.

"La Rambla," 3x5 watercolor sketch done on the spot

Daily sketching, for me, has provided opportunities for "flow," that state of concentration and creation that focuses the artist or writer or athlete as they progress. The flow state excludes external stimuli somehow, so that the entire consciousness is involved in the immediate task. In that state, making images becomes nearly reflexive. That is, the images are not the result of conscious thought. In that state, each stroke of a brush or pen is not thought out, not reasoned, so much as felt. Since sketches aren't commonly even shown to others, the result, if pleasing, can be kept. If the image isn't what I want, it's only a sketch and out it goes. This little view of La Rambla, the famous pedestrian street in Barcelona, was done outdoors and quickly. While having some liquid refreshment at a sidewalk cafe I drew a view along broad, tree-lined street in my pocket sketchbook.

"La Rambla," 8x10 studio watercolor

Later on I made a larger watercolor painting using the ink and wash technique. It was important to make the trees and buildings lining La Rambla believable, but I wanted to show the people more coherently too and also to give a sense of place. Using the reference above plus other sketches and photos helped a great deal, but the experience of drawing the same motif earlier allowed modification of various elements plus a change in vanishing point and perspective.

"Be always drawing," is a quote I've seen attributed to da Vinci, but regardless it's excellent advice. The more you draw, the more accomplished you can become.

Memory Selfie

Not long ago, a friend mentioned an art challenge she had seen online. The challenge was to produce a self-portrait in 20 minutes, from memory. That is, without so much as resorting to a mirror. Although I didn't see the original post, nor any of the results, the idea of a memory self-portrait was intriguing, akin to the concept that we can't really see ourselves as others do.

In any event, here is my memory self-portrait. I did this drawing using Sketchbook and a Wacom Cintiq tablet. That meant saving considerable time--no materials preparations, etc.--and it felt more spontaneous as a result. And it was faster, too. This took less than 10 minutes, start to finish. Luckily, my beard and mustache make the mouth much simpler to draw.

In a previous entry about self portraits I posted an oil self portrait that you can use for comparison.

Drawing Aids and "Cheating"

Camera obscura, London Science Museum

Years ago, David Hockney caused quite a stir with his book Secret Knowledge, dealing with the idea that certain of the masters of centuries past must have used an optical aid (camera obscura) in order to produce their realistic drawings and paintings. Hockney argues that Hans Holbein, for example, could not have produced the anamorphic skull in his famous work The Ambassadors 

Hans Holbein the Younger, "The Ambassadors," 1533

without resorting such an aid. Perhaps so, but then again, maybe he used a different aid. Or none at all. The question is, "does it matter?" The answer is it matters to some people, though whether or not it should is a separate question.

Is using a visual aid, whether it's a camera obscura, camera lucida, film or digital camera, or a computer "cheating"? The idea of course is that if you don't make good drawing without aids then you're little more than someone who can trace an image. Or if you use a computer instead of putting down real paint on a real surface, you're not really an artist. Opinions like those do seem less common these days as the older generation of artists ages but they're certainly still around. My generation was taught all sorts of methods for drawing, perhaps the most accurate being the sight-size method, wherein the artist makes an accurately measured and drawn representation of what he sees. But we were also taught how to use visual grids, film references, and even a camera lucida. But most learned to draw without those things, too.

Whether or not Hockney is right about the camera obscura use by masters like Vermeer and Hals (and numerous others), their mastery of light and form and paint and all manner of the painter's art make the argument irrelevant, in my opinion. Masters of the past left us the beautiful and compelling images, regardless of how they were actually made. Their materials, methods and aids, work processes and a myriad of other information are interesting and even potentially useful today, of course. But regardless, they didn't "cheat" when making their art.

Albrecht Durer, Pictures for Geometry, 1532

A professional (in any field) uses any tool needed to produce the end result. Painters of great skill and renown through history always employed visual aids. As Hockney postulated, as scientific inquiry and lens technology advanced, aids like the camera obscura may have been used. The use of a camera obscura makes perfect sense, however frequently or infrequently the device may have actually been employed, given the intellectual ferment of the time and the exploration of optics that was taking hold in natural philosophy. Even without more sophisticated gear, though, artists used visual grids (e.g. Durer) to assist them in composition and perspective. A grid provides an artist with a way to visualize a possible final image, correct proportions, deal with perspective, and so on. Vincent van Gogh discovered how much such a simple device improved his awkward drawings, they remain in common use today.

Norman Rockwell, "The Runaway," 1958 (Norman Rockwell Museum)

Another example of course is film photography. Although it wasn't widely available until the late 19th century, once photography took hold, artists began to use it. Masters of that time--Edgar Degas, Winslow Homer, Alphonse Mucha, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, even Pablo Picasso--began to either actively employ film photography or use found photographs. Certain illustrators and painters in the early and mid-20th century (e.g. Norman Rockwell) made extensive use of photographs but were careful to hide the fact from the public. Rockwell was an excellent draftsman yet knew full well that the public wouldn't respond well to his use of photos. The Rockwell Museum holds a large collection of his reference photos, including those for famous works like The Runaway. As one can see from comparing the two images, Rockwell made substantial modifications and additions to each of his referenced cover paintings.

Photo reference for "The Runaway" (Rockwell Museum)

Regardless, visual aids of all kinds are pervasive in visual realism. Grids, frames, mirrors, cameras, and computers are simply tools to be used.

Sketching Druid Hill Creek 6

The month of April was a dichotomy of weather. The first couple of weeks were wet, grey, and cold while the last two weeks of this month have been balmy and perhaps as close to a traditional Spring as you could get. Those dreary days during the first couple of weeks became so similar to one another that sketching them seemed a waste of time. By April 17, even a tint of green along Druid Hill Creek was unbelievably welcome. I ran a sketch of that day a while back (right), when the coming season still seemed remote, even as the morning light began to turn more yellow. The faint green was hardly striking, but at least it was encouraging. But the weather refused to cooperate. In fact, if anything the world remained shrouded in shades of grey.

During the third week of April, when the days began to warm,  seasonal changes began in earnest. The undergrowth is wild honeysuckle, always the first to leaf out. In those last days of April the brushy understory of plants simply exploded into leaf--from a mere hint to nearly fully clad--in less than a week. The woods along Druid Hill Creek are mostly willows with a sprinkling of black walnuts, mulberries and other species, and they remained bare. Much of the mature sun emerged at last and grasses and other vegetation peeped out here and there along the creek. The faintest hint of honeysuckle was visible on April 23, and by the 27th most of them were going green, their light grey branches overarching the creekbed.

By the end of the month I was able to move outside to draw and paint without worrying about snow, rain, or aching cold. Green seemed to hover over everything as narcissi began to flower. The creek often flows dark as raw umber paint but with areas that glow like amber. My vantage point was considerably closer to the bank, allowing me to

render a fallen log I'd been omitting for weeks. The greening honeysuckle cheered me even though the air was still a little cold. The rocky bank at few yards farther upstream is starting to turn green too as vegetation and undergrowth begin to awaken. One of the fascinating things about our woods is how secluded the creek becomes once the undergrowth and trees are leafed-out. When looking in certain directions during summer, you could be someplace far from an urban setting, yet we're only five minutes from downtown Des Moines.

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Previously in this series
Druid Hill Creek Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5