Variations on a Theme: Dance!

As I am getting ready to teach a class in collage, I am looking through old files and photos of collages created over the last few years. I came across the Dance series for which I had not only created 4 visual pieces, but also a text to go with each one. So....I decided to post it on my blog.

The Dance Series started with a pile of discarded sheet music found in a wastepaper basket at Cultural Resources Council, now known as CNY Arts. I was immediately intrigued by the endless possibilities presented by contrasting the music with all of its obvious implications, with abstractions; color, shapes, and patterns. Whether or not the abstractions related in any way to music was not important initially, however as my idea began to take shape, music again became important as the driving force behind each piece which represents a different style of Dance.

The series consists of four pieces White Ballet (Ballet), Nairobi Night (African Dance), Guts and Grace (NIA) and Steppin’ at the BB (Irish Step Dance).

White Ballet: The term for traditional ballet, graceful, flowing, uplifted and ethereal, all fluffy white and pink tutus.

Nairobi Night: African Dance, earthy and grounded, fiery colors, movements driven by the insistent drumbeat.

Guts and Grace NIA: or neuromuscular integrative action is a fusion of modern dance, martial arts and the healing arts and a study in contrasts. Complimentary colors, positive and negative shapes, linear and rounded, flowing and staccato all at once.

Steppin’ at the BB: Irish step dance. Linear, uplifted movement, the staccato beat of hardshoes on wooden floor all represented by the straight edge of the watercolor abstractions. The torn side, edged in gold, a representation of the soft side,ghillies and intricate patterns across the floor.

Keeping a Lookout

Keeping a Lookout was painted over two consecutive weekends at camp. I started out by lightly sketching the herons (mother and babies) and several of the sticks which make up the nest, then covering them with masking fluid. My plan was to use the poured method for applying background color and since this method can yield rather random results as colors blend I didn't want the birds and nest to be influenced by whatever color ended up underneath.

After pouring my some green, yellow, blue and red over various parts of the painting and letting the colors mix, I decided that what I really needed was more texture. I wanted to give a sense of the wilderness surrounding the nest without actually painting it. And I didn't want to detract from my focal point. So I placed a crumpled plastic bag over the wet colors and let the paint pool around the folds and wrinkles of the bag. After the paint dried I removed the bag to find a series of wonderful but subtle lines networking across the background.

I left the painting in progress and all art supplies for the following weekend. Throughout the week I gave some thought to how I was going to handle the colors for the birds and nest. Both would call for lots of grays and browns, colors I usually make from mixing complementary colors. When I returned to camp the next weekend my first order of business was to check on my painting. I had peeled off the masking fluid and was ready to paint!

Taking my cue from the very yellowy undertones in the green background, I selected yellow and its complement, purple to mix to create the various browns and grays. I used yellow ochre, cadmium yellow, purple and rose in various combinations to achieve what appears to be neutrals, but are actually full of color. A bit of Payne's Gray was mixed with purple to create some of the dark shaded areas in between the branches of the nest. I used a small pointed brush to paint the added sticks jutting out of the nest.

 The herons and nest were all painted in the wet on dry method. The background was painted in the wet on wet method; very runny color over very wet paper. I like the contrast in styles in this piece. I also like the branches arching out of the nest and into the wilderness, perhaps pointing the way for the baby herons when they eventually leave the nest.

On the One Year Anniversary

Today is the one year anniversary of my mother's death. After she passed I received many cards, email condolences, flowers and dish gardens from family, friends and co-workers. And one very unexpected gift, a small potted Rose of Sharon to plant in my garden in my mother's memory. In the days after the funeral the plant sat in its pot on my deck, showing off its beautiful purple flowers. I named it Betty in honor of my mom. But as days passed into weeks and the flowers died I began to wonder where in the world I was going to plant it. November was approaching, the weather turned cold and the plant needed a home, a place to put its roots down. Literally. Now my house is 23 years old; we had it built for us on a windy hill (hence the name of my studio) where there is absolutely no topsoil to speak of. For the first few years we had very little grass, no shrubs that would last through the cold windy winter. We were grateful for anything that was green and would grow. Over the years I have learned the hard way what will grow and what will not thrive in that poor soil. And when something did grow...I just let it go because at least it was green! So, 23 years later we have a yard full of some really nice plants and some things that we just let grow because at least they are green! The challenge was finding an empty space in our very overcrowded (and green!) yard. I finally found a place for Betty, next to a very aggressive Pussy Willow which we have been hacking away at for several years. I planted Betty in mid-November and hoped for the best. After the winter and spring passed, and summer rolled around we finally saw some life in Betty. (Rose of Sharons never really look too good till the end of July or early August). Betty bloomed in August with beautiful pinkish purple flowers. I hacked away at the pussy willow to give Betty some more light and space to grow. I'm happy to report that on the one year anniversary Betty looks wonderful and has held her own against that aggressive pussy willow. Well, my mom never did like cats anyway.

Daybreak........The Privilege of Waking up at the Lake.

I got the idea for using the poured watercolor technique after seeing a few posts and video tutorials on Facebook. The videos gave step by step instructions and it looked like a lot of fun, so I thought I would give it a try.

We have a very recognizable group of trees on one of the islands at the lake. They stand like sentinels guarding a small thin strip of an island that contains nothing more than the remains of a dock and a fire pit and of course the trees. The trees are the scraggly type of pitch pines that grow in the Indian River Lakes Region and the Thousand Islands. I love their silhouettes and thought they would look great against a soft ethereal background. The poured watercolor technique just about begged to be used to help achieve this effect.

 I lightly sketched in the silhouettes of the trees and the shape of the island. I didn't mask the trees or land because I planned on letting the poured color become part of the final color of those area. I was thinking of the colors of the morning sky, yellows, pinks, purples and dashes of blue. After mixing a few colors and lots of water in Dixie cups, then getting my paper nice and wet, I poured the colors onto the paper, and let them run, mix and form new colors. I blotted up excess color and then left the painting to dry.

A few hours later I came back to the studio to look at the painting. I was very pleased with the soft veils of color, pinks and purples layered over one another and the yellows shooting through like the morning sun just breaking over the horizon. The trees and land received a few more coats of paint to make them stand out against the background. A soft line of trees, more implied than actually seen stretch across the background adding to the illusion of depth.

Every time I look at this painting I think of what a privilege it is to wake up at the lake. Seeing the mist lifting slowly off the water, hearing the loon's call in the distance as a lone fisherman casts his line into water so still, barely making a ripple. We are so lucky to have this privilege. And with this privilege comes a responsibility to insure that it will be there for future generations. Does the lake belong to us or do we belong to the lake? When we first bought our camp, I felt that the lake belonged to us. Right now I feel that I belong to the lake. And each morning that I wake up at the lake the privilege is renewed.

Red, White and Beauties

I began this painting as a demonstration piece for an Acrylics Class I was teaching at the Thousand Islands Arts Center in Clayton. In this class I was teaching a method of creating radiant color by beginning with an under-painting of complementary colors. Although many people think of acrylic paints as thick and rather plasticky, and apply the paint in that same way, I prefer to use my colors a little thinner and use the under-painting to build up layers of transparent color. Allowing successive layers of color to build up lends a fuller, richer look to your acrylics.


The process can be a bit tricky especially when trying to find just the right complement for your under-painting. A color wheel is helpful if you have trouble remembering where the colors lie on the color wheel and how they are made. And of course which colors are complements: Red/Green, Blue/Orange, and Yellow/Purple. The red/green, blue/orange and yellow/purple relationships are pretty easy to figure out, but it's important to take into account the temperature of the colors. Red is considered a warm color, but reds like Alizarin Crimson can be cool in temperature, and Cadmium Red is a warm red. We can find these relationships in all of our colors. So when we are looking for just the right red to under-paint an area that will be ultimately green, we need to decide if we are looking at a warm green (toward yellow) or a cool green (toward blue)and use a corresponding red, warm or cool.


 But what about brown, tan, beige, gray, black or white? I usually think of the browns, tans etc. as a darker version of orange and under-paint with very subtle, smoky blues. Orange over blue under-painting makes a fabulous brown and you can lighten the color a bit with white or an off-white paint.


When I need to create grays I usually rely on mixing a few complementary color combinations (red and green work well). I also try to find the underlying color in the gray...is it rather like a cool blue? or a warm purple? and add bits of that color in too. Again you can use white to lighten.


And as far as black goes: I never use it. I prefer to mix a combination of Alizarin Crimson, dark green...usually Hooker's Green or Pthalo Green and Ultramarine Blue. So, how do I under-paint that? I look for the underlying color or temperature, paint that layer first, then add my red/blue/green combination. You can vary the amounts of each of those colors to create warm or cool "blacks". Lots of Red will give you a warmer "black", lots of blue a cooler "black".


One of the challenges in painting Red, White and Beauties was finding the color for the background wall. The building itself was a beige tone, but had an almost bluish cast in the photograph. The shadows were a darker blue. I was attracted to the shadows on the wall and the reflected colors on the window, as well as the colorful floral arrangement and flag spilling out of the basket. I wanted the wall and window to be as colorful and lively as the flowers in the foreground, but a bit more subdued so that they didn't fight with the focal point. So I under-painted the wall in vivid shades of orange, then later added a layer of blue applied in a thin scratchy manner to let plenty of the warm orange tones show through. The shadows were painted a darker blue, especially the one underneath the basket.


All of the colors used in the treatment of the flowers and flag were mixed together later in various combinations to make the more neutral dark tones used in the basket. In fact even the less neutral tones in the background window reflections and wall were made with the reds, blues, greens and yellows used to paint the flowers. Using the same colors to mix new neutrals adds to the cohesiveness of the composition.


Throughout the composition I distributed touches of bright red, especially in the basket, to counterbalance the red in the flowers and in the flag. I did the same with the white paint to balance the white stars and stripes. I had to subdue the white of the stars and the stripes because the stark white was drawing immediate attention to the flag and not allowing the viewer's eyes to travel around the painting. So I glazed blue and purple over most of the white to de-emphasize the color. After the painting was finished I applied a coat of gloss medium to add extra depth and shine to the painting.

 

Every Painting is a Journey

Every painting is a journey for the artist and the viewer. Never the same journey though.

As I was working on this painting I was dealing with the imminent death of my dear friend Yolanda. The painting didn't start out to be about Yolanda. In fact the painting was started as a demo piece for my Monday night painting students at the Y. I was initially drawn to the imagery. The play of light and shadows across the empty bench, surrounded by Fall blossoms begged to be painted. And the fact that I would need to subdue the overly busy background in the photograph would provide me with some really good teaching points.

So I began the painting with one intent and ended with something entirely different. As I painted I found my mind wandering often to Yolanda, to her family and the pain they were going through. But I thought often too of all of the good times I had shared with Yolanda. We were involved in a number of art organizations and spent numerous hours involved in planning events and solving problems. And after we were done with all of the "art issues", we always talked about our families and especially the kids. Great memories, usually accompanied by a good cup of coffee or a nice glass of wine, depending on the time of day.

I realized at one point as I blended colors, working wet on wet on my canvas that I was painting away my anger at the loss of my friend. I was painting from the heart. Later, I urged my students to do the same "don't be so concerned with getting a color just right, just paint!" And of course I immediately realized that painting from the heart doesn't usually happen in an Intro to Painting class. I hoped they would store that thought away for future reference.

I had nearly completed the painting, when I thought of one thing that I wanted to add; something to let the viewer know that there had been someone in the picture earlier and had perhaps just stepped away. On the bench I painted a copy of The Healing Muse. For many years Yolanda and I had been strong supporters of this literary and visual journal from Upstate Medical. We had both contributed artwork and Yolanda had also written an eloquent piece about her struggle with cancer. It seemed fitting that the Muse be part of the painting.

The piece was finished in time for the Central New York Branch of the National League of American Pen Women show. And although I felt that Yolanda was the inspiration behind the piece, I mentioned it to no one, preferring to keep that thought to myself.

We hung the show and had a wonderful reception the next evening. At the reception I noticed a gentleman looking intently at the painting, and I wondered if he could sense the emotions I felt as I painted. I remember thinking "gosh I hope not! I would like him to see a peaceful garden, not the emotional turmoil of an artist coming to terms with a friend's illness and death." I later learned that he had purchased the painting as a surprise for his wife; an anniversary gift. So evidently he saw the peaceful garden.

Every painting is a journey for the artist and the viewer. Never the same journey though.

Back to Pencil, Back to Basics

This post is meant for my Monday night Learn to Draw class at the Y. At our last class, (which seems like ages ago, due to the Memorial Day Holiday), I brought in a partially completed drawing based on a still life which I had set up in my home studio. I had chosen a few objects specifically for their color, or should I say, lack of color. The two eggs and the plate are both white, but each has a different value (comparative lightness or darkness of color). The spoon, salt shaker and hour glass were all chosen for their reflective qualities.

Those of you who attended the last class might remember that I had shown a series of thumbnail sketches which I used in helping me to determine the best composition. I had made about 3 sketches and chosen the one which I felt worked best: a close-up view of the eggs, spoon and plate. The salt shaker and hourglass have been cropped.

I had also had a partially visible "rule of thirds" grid on the paper to help me with my composition. The grid was also used in my thumbnail sketches. I completed the drawing this week and would like to share some thoughts and observations with you.

In working with very light colored or white objects we often leave them without color/shading. But when several of the objects in the composition are white, we need to decide how to treat the white areas. When we work in graphite we translate color into various shades of gray and black and white. We decide on how dark or light a shade of gray might be by comparing the values of colors to each other. Even colors that are the same, like identical reds, will have variations due to how the light might be hitting it.

So, in a still life which contains a few white objects we need to look at the value of the color. Usually one is slightly darker than the other. In this case the plate was a bit darker and due to the way the light was hitting it a nice shadow had cast itself over the surface. The rim of the plate was catching the light, so that remained an untouched surface or pure white, which was the color of the paper. The eggs have a very soft shadow on them created by smudging the pencil shading and picking out highlights with the kneaded eraser. The shadow on the eggs reinforces the illusion of volume. The pencil strokes used to create the shadow on the eggs were curved, which reinforces the shape of the eggs.

The still life is sitting on a place mat which I have elected to treat in a more abstract way, as a contrast to the realism of the rest of the composition. The place mat has a floral pattern which emphasizes stylized flowers. I left the flowers white, with just a bit of stylized detail. The white of the flowers echoes the white in the eggs and in the highlights on the metallic objects. The spoon is a hard metal object, so the reflections are made with hard solid lines. It is quite a bit darker than the eggs in value, so it is nearly black in some areas.

The salt shaker is very old and in need of some TLC. It does not have much of a luster, so the reflections are softer and more diffused.

The hourglass is plastic, so not quite as reflective as glass would be. Smudging the shading and using the kneaded eraser to pick out highlights created the illusion of a reflective object.

After I had finished shading and detailing the picture, I checked to see which areas might need to be a bit lighter or darker and adjusted them accordingly. I darkened the grains of sand in the hourglass to balance the darkness of the spoon. I also darkened the shadow at the bottom of the salt shaker and in a few places on the place mat like under the plate to distribute the very dark values around the composition. If there was only one area with a very dark value, then our eyes would go directly to it and not move around the composition.

And when I was done with the picture, I ate the eggs...of course.