The discipline of drawing with pen and ink every day is good--any activity that builds a habit of "making" promotes advancing skill and allows testing of pens, ink and methods. These two are both done with technical pen, but I still plan on doing some old fashioned dip pen drawings.
Years ago a teacher told me that many of his works, which were primarily for illustrating book covers and advertising, were done in quite small sizes--as small as 6x8 inches--before being photographed and used in larger formats. For a long time that approach didn't make sense to me, painting small and showing large, but it began to make sense as I did a quantity of small oil sketches.
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| "Mountain Sketch," oil on panel, 6x8 |
This week I return to Whiterock Conservancy, where I spent a few weeks last year. This time the weather will be more crisp and there ought to be fall colors in the grasses and trees. During my stay these next couple of weeks my main goal will be to work outdoors as much as possible. Winter is over the horizon, after all.
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| "Whiterock Bluff," oil on panel, 9x12 |
This is a view of the bluff that is the namesake of the conservancy, along the Middle Raccoon River.
So far this month of Inktober I've manage to keep up with the daily regimen of pen and ink drawings. Given an established habit of drawing most every day it's been reasonably simple to keep up by just substituting digital drawing time for time with a pen and paper.
This second drawing was an interesting exercise in shading with random scribbles to establish values and render shapes. Although this one isn't entirely successful it was fun.
Several years ago after hearing about Inktober, a worldwide October event to promote pen and ink drawing, I decided to give it a whirl. The idea, which originated nearly 15 years ago, was to provide a daily structure to hone skills with a pen. The originator, a fellow named Jake Parker, told others who told others, and so on. The first plan was to make and post an ink drawing online every day. On the website linked above, you can find a list of prompts for a daily drawing, but participants often use their own subject material. And some now participate by doing a drawing a week for an entire year. Regardless of schedule, the idea is to form a regular habit of drawing with ink.
My own art practice has included pen and ink drawing since I began, but not as a primary medium. Instead ink drawing for me is a way to train the eye and hand. Drawing with liquid ink is demanding because ink stays wet, for one thing. And inked work can't be erased, of course. The limitations of drawing with an old-fashioned metal nib are also forbidding. Metal nibs can leak, release ink in blobs, bend out of shape, and more and so are often avoided these days. Technical pens are more favored, but unlike dip pens, tech pens don't permit much variation in line weight. Most I use technical pens in various sizes but occasionally I'll fall back on an old crow quill, a kind of metal nib that's been in use for at least two centuries.
So I'm giving this Inktober another go. Here are the first two. Each is on the same tan paper, though the colors are different in these photos. The first is an ink drawing after a marble Roman portrait bust dating to about 100 CE. The second is a landscape of a mountain path, from an online reference. In each case I made an initial pencil drawing using relatively hard graphite, then completed an ink drawing using technical pen. I like Pigma Micron pens for their opacity and archival qualities.). Later this month I'm going to try some dip pen works.
This new oil painting is a view of one of the corners in the Better Homes test garden that I've written about before not long ago This particular spot is a place in the garden that gets many hours of sun. There is a small lawn surrounded by plantings, mature trees in the far (southeast) corner, and a small rock-walled water feature in the foreground. A number of the watercolor sketches posted earlier here were studies for later studio works like this one.
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| "In the Garden,"oil on panel. private collection |
For the last five years or so most of my drawings have been digital, using a Wacom display tablet. Until then (like most) my drawings were graphite, charcoal, and sometimes metalpoint. Further, my daily drawing (see my companion blog Daily Digitalia) wasn't really habitual; more sporadic. But the ease and simplicity of drawing digitally is seductive, hence the hundreds of digital drawings over on the other blog.
But lately technical issues have kept me from doing digital drawings at my main studio, so I've reverted to graphite when I need a quick sketch or impression.
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| By the Window, graphite on toned paper |
Drawing is basic. For me, a painting begins with a drawing, usually a very sketchy one indicating major masses and color shapes. Sometimes a more detailed rendering is needful, but usually I only do a very rough one.
My evolving experience with traditional drawing is intriguing. Next month is the worldwide Inktober drawing challenge. Perhaps I'll try pen and ink again.
About a year ago I spent three weeks at Whiterock Conservancy, a land conservancy here in central Iowa that encompasses a fascinating range of landscapes. There are wetlands, river, rolling prairie, and oak savanna. Some of the land there has not been farmed, or disturbed. During my time there I painted a number of works in the small studio and a number outdoors. From those studies and photographs, I did a number of studio works over the winter. This one, "Savanna," is featured on my website.
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| "Savanna," oil on canvas, 24x30 |
Some know that Des Moines has been a publishing hub for more than a century. The Meredith Publishing company (now DotDash Meredith) began in the early 20th century with Successful Farming magazine, eventually expanding to include the venerable Better Homes and Gardens, among many more. The company has had test kitchens and a demonstration garden for a long while. I wrote about it in June. The BHG demonstration garden is open to the public from noon to 2pm every Friday, May to October.
I've gotten into a habit of visiting the garden at least once or twice a month this year. The horticulturists do a fine job of keeping everything thriving. It's a real favorite for lunch and sketching.
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| "In the Garden," ink and wc |
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| "A Shady Corner," wc with ink touches |
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| "Looking South," wc and ink |
The leaves have faint touches of yellow, here and there, but the fall change hasn't happened yet. This painting is from an outing last weekend in Madison County, famous for its bridges that inspired a book and movie. The Chamber of Commerce sponsored a paint out at several locations in and around Winterset, the county seat.
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| "Madison County Valley," oil on panel, 9x12 |
The valley I painted is home to a local winery, the vineyard just visible in the extreme foreground. The sheds and garage across the road are actually another farm.
Last weekend the Saturday sketchers went to a private garden in one of the old neighborhoods. The owner has landscaped his garden in a number of interesting and sometimes quirky ways. For example, he used a top of a salvaged column as a centerpiece in one flower bed, making it look like an old ruin. The terraced garden features a large patio dominated by a gurgling fountain. We sketched there for a couple of hours in various locations.
Sycamores are one of the quintessential American trees. There are similar trees in Europe (plane trees), but ours seem more majestic as they soar over other species with their grey-green bark and broad palmate leaves. For me, sycamores are among the most reward trees to paint.
Last month while visiting friends I had the opportunity to paint outdoors for several days along the bank of a small river. From where I stood, there were mature trees in all directions, many of the sycamores. This one was started outdoors and detailed in the studio. The subject was massive, leaning over the water with many trailing branches. Afternoon light gave an ochre glow to the water, a reflection of the rocky bottom.
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| "Sycamore," oil on panel, 9x12 |
Last Wednesday a half dozen of the Saturday group made the drive to a farm near Prairie City, maybe 30 miles from Des Moines. Our hosts, Lisa and David Burns, have been farming there for decades though they live in town. David has cattle and grows what Iowans call "row crops,' meaning mostly corn and soybeans. The farm is nearly a half-section of rolling Iowa countryside. They have huge grain bins, four tractors and other farm implements, and a century-old Model T farm truck.
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| "Cententarian," oil on panel, 0x12 |
Located less than a mile downstream from my studio, along Druid Hill Creek, this image is from many personal observations and photos. Druid Hill Creek rises on a golf course south of us, running mostly north and into Grays Lake. The creek is probably only a couple of miles long and must be fed by artesian springs. Its flow never stops, even during significant drought.
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| "The Ford," oil on panel, 14x11, private collection |
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| "Eternal City," oil on panel, private collection |
Rome is perhaps one of the most important destinations for artists of all kinds. The treasures in public and private museums there are simply staggering. If you want to see works by the masters, Italy is obviously one of the places to visit. And the Eternal City is on the short list of cities where one should spend time lavishly.
This particular painting is an imaginary view inside an osteria, or tavern, somewhere in Rome. Much of this scene is imagined, including the colors and the fountain across the narrow street. Sold long ago.
Once in a while, just for fun and a challenge I draw things I don't normally tackle. Last week a news photo of the Iowa governor's residence, Terrace Hill, struck me as interesting. Terrace Hill is more than 150 years old, built by an early Iowa land baron and eventually sold to a prominent family who in turn donated it to the state. It's a big Victorian house with all of the requisite gingerbread that came with this style.
This particular drawing was made on a Wacom display tablet using a program called Sketchbook. Like most digital drawing and painting programs Sketchbook allows the artist to pick tools using varioius parameters like size, darkness, soft/hard emulations and so on. For this one I used no perspective tools or other digital crutches and instead just drew it "free hand."
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| "Terrace Hill," digital |
For some years one of my primary genres in painting was portraits. Most of the works from those days were head and shoulders views though I did a few half-length works too. In the supposed hierarchy of painting genres, portraits are one rung from the top, after history painting, although the latter has fallen far out of favor. For that matter, so have personal portraits. The reasons are complicated but in part photography has clearly supplanted much. And for that matter, we're a less formal people than our ancestors seem to have been.
Regardless,
portraits remain a challenging and engaging task. Achieving a
serviceable likeness is sometimes the best an artist can hope for, but
the very best manage to convey expressions, moods, and even subtle cues
of character. It's said, for example, that when Velazquez' portrait of
him was shown to Pope Innocent X he cried, "Take it away! It's too
real!" Presumably he felt the painter had seen something of his true and
rather vicious character.
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| Diego Velazquez, "Pope Innocent X," 1640 |
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| "Linda," oil on canvas, 2007, private collection |
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| "Brad," oil on canvas, 2009 |
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| "David," oil on canvas, 2007, private collection |
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| "Bill," oil on canvas, 2010, collection of the painter |
A little over four years back I participated in a workshop with my friend Garin Baker in upstate New York. Garin's studio is in New Windsor, about 60 miles north of New York City. The Hudson is a wide, estuarial body, which means it has tides that extend as far as Newburgh, where we painted, that reverse its flow. That is, the water flows either north or south depending on the ocean.
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| "5-19-19 (The Hudson)," oil on panel, 9x12 |
When a fellow painter saw this one online she commented on the flock of birds in the sky, but the truth was those "birds" are gnats, caught in the wet oil paint as I went along. When that happens it's a simple matter to wait for the paint to dry before brushing off the intruders. I took this photo before I cleaned the surface. My initials are scratched into the painted surface, one of the indications that the work was completed outdoors.
