Canna - Learning to Subjugate Color

Today's post is a Canna foliage portrait. You can see from the snapshot below of the Canna bed, that it would be easy to overlook this patch as completely unremarkable. Pursuing the back-lit foliage, I was up close and personal when I noticed the lovely texture of the palm trunk in the background. From then on, the goal was to find some arrangement of foliage that included interesting spaces.

You can see from the snapshot that the foliage is a luminous lime green edged in wine. I am a sucker for color, so naturally took the initial processing in the direction of purple. I was enamored of this version for quite a while (third image below.) and was preparing to paint it in watercolor, when I realized that the values were misplaced for a painting composition. The lightest areas were in the background, while the large shapes were colorful, but too dim to function as a subject.

I went back to Photoshop several times over a matter of months seeking an improvement in values and coloring and eventually arrived here, at this more neutralized version. It was a long journey because I had to fall out of love with purple before I could accept that what worked for this image was to subjugate color, brighten the canopy leaves, and allow the lines to carry the composition.

For the Love of Cabbage

Winter of 2011 I grew some ornamental cabbage on the patio. I love how the thick veins branch in ruffled leather and how beads of rain dance on the surface. It's very textural, but it's still just cabbage, right? I think of the digital production process as a puzzle and a journey. When I'm thrilled, I know I've found what I was seeking.
I see a good metaphor here as well. We are each simple cabbages,. but God sees so much more than that. God sees our spirit, our design, the life and the art flowing together. In God's eye, cabbages are so much more interesting than they think they are.

Dreamer

Brave Heart

Happiness

Golden Moment

"Golden Moment" Watercolor on 300lb Arches Cold Press

Oh my, it’s been so long since I posted last. Whatever have I been doing?
Well, I embarked on my study of watercolor. One needs paints. Which ones? That lead me to books on techniques that specialized in glazing, mixing, textures, and color theory for palette selection. 

Along the paint education path I found Hillary Page’s encyclopedic reference book, Guide to Watercolor Paints. I learned a great deal about pigments, light-fastness, why certain ones mix better than others according to their light refraction curve, paint names, and how paint handling varies by manufacturer. Wow. I love this stuff. I sadly dumped some Holbein favorites that were not light-fast, others that were opaque, and ordered some Winsor Newton and Daniel Smith paints to go with the remaining Holbein favorites.

I spent months mixing colors and creating charts to explore and document proportions between 2 mixed colors. In every chart was a surprising discovery. I could be a professional chart maker. (LOL)
Finally in June I felt ready to try putting the elements together into a painting. The first one worked out well enough, but I won’t publish it here, because it was soon eclipsed.

The second pass was with a very flawed photo of Alocasia leaves as seen in the Birmingham Botanical Gardens. Fortunately I had a good memory and my trusty Photoshop to help me find my way back to inspiration.

I used wet in wet to mingle complimentary colors into browns. I carved in veins while wet. I masked to save hard edges. I mixed and glazed and painted wet on dry. Finally, I used Pitt Pen to build in texture and contrast in passages.

**I have since darkened that pale stripe up the center leaf...but have not re-photographed because it is now framed.

The knowledge gem that this piece delivered was about the additive property of colors in glazing.

The background was giving me fits. Having removed it twice, this final pass produced results I could accept.

I began with a rich coat of Hooker green (which is PG7 and PY150-Nickel Azo). It was grass ‘green’ so I glazed it with a coat of Holbein Peacock Blue (PB15-Phthalo blue + PG7) which I had used in the large leaf already. I did not get blue green. I got a richer Hooker green. Why? The extra layer of PG7 and the fact that PB15 and PY150 make green, I had nothing BUT green on the paper! Note to self.

I wanted it to be earthier and much darker, so I mixed Hooker green with Quinacridone Burnt Orange (also already in the painting) until it was a perfectly balanced coffee brown. What I got was a rich forest green now with a granulated brown texture. Hooker does have a slight granulating tendency, but it doesn’t always show up. Another batch of rich coffee-colored glaze, and I had finally found the value and texture I had been seeking. Lucky me!

Fortunate Event Number 4

This fall stacked up to be a series of fortunate events that began when the printer head clogged beyond repair. Weeks of brain-draining research and assessment later, that decision was made which opened up art card printing right about the same time I was making concept break-throughs that needed a different media than Pastels. I just didn't want to even think about these using pastels.

That's where I was back in November when I discovered Joseph Raffael. He was featured in Watercolor Magazine. After a visit to his website I bought his book, (which I highly recommend). I fell in love with his process and especially his older work. In it I saw what floats around in my head: A mixture of abstraction, realism, and jewel-tone color. It combined neatly with what I was discovering about value, color inversion, and abstraction through Photoshop.

So in the first week of December we had a morning with pretty light. I went to the garden to see what could be found – Joseph Raffael abstraction+realism still strongly in mind. For an instant I was disappointed-what will I find in a garden of brown bushes and sticks? And then I kicked myself. “Think like an artist, look for the shapes of shadow and light, the edges, the movement of these shapes and spaces…color can come later.”

Here is 'Spirea Dreams 3' from that session. There were quite a few that worked out (7) and I had fun turning them into cards…which I’ll post on the card blog. I keep thinking they would make really cool watercolors if done much larger than life. It will be a while before my watercolor legs are strong enough to take on a project like that, so until then, the digital versions are really cool.

Wayah Creek - Rubies & Rhodies

I've noticed a thematic perspective recently. I love to be deep in the embrace of the forest, looking upwards. It's a natural perspective in the Blue Ridge mountains, where the vegetation is thick and rich, and the small, smooth mountainsides are steep. Rhododendron again clothe this dell. Columns of deciduous trees vault their canopy against the sky, sheltering the ruby dogwoods. From a scene along Wayah Creek in NC.

12x17.5" Soft Pastel on LaCarte Pastel card

Wayah Creek - Rubies & Rhodies

Hope Rises at Rufus Morgan Falls

This week's painting is a bit of glorious fall color from a trip last fall to the Rufus Morgan Falls trail area. That particular day netted a rich collection of references.

 "Hope Rises"

12x18 in. Soft Pastels on Wallis Museum Grade paper

The Goldenrain Tree

She just seems a bit shy to me, as though she would happily hide, but the harsh afternoon sun and her own exotic foliage conspire to make her a star.

'Reluctant'

5.5"x11.5" Pastels on Wallis Museum Grade

The challenge to myself was to take an utterly boring photo and do a painting using Richard McKinley’s watercolor under painting technique…and try to make the painting more interesting than the photo. You see the journal entry here with color sketch and photo.

The first time out I used a rather strongly colored under painting like I see so many artists use. My colors got too hot though and I couldn’t get harmony between a lemon-lime sky and hot orange leaf litter.

Version 1

So I tried again. Here is a series of snapshots as things progressed toward what was the final piece at the top of the post. This time I spent much more time on the sketch, trying to get the radial arms placed properly as shapes. When I wing it, my drawing mind gets lazy trying to keep up with my color hand (as we see in the first attempt). In the end I could see from the watercolor where the painting was supposed to go.  That’s much more than I could say for the first attempt.

So okay—it’s a tree in the woods and it’s not a riot of circus colors...it’s nearly normal looking, and yet I am pleased. 10 hours today from decision to the declaration of  ‘done for now.'

Moonfire

At last. After 25 hours of painting, she is presentable.
Early one spring morning I was out with the camera. It had rained the night before so everything was drenched and sparkling in the morning sunshine. I was standing inside the canopy of the Moonfire Japanese Maple just to see what could be seen from there. The  foliage  was ablaze with translucent fire and reflected violet. This is the sort of subject that I really enjoy painting...though I'd starve to death if I needed to make a living from it!

11x15" Wallis Professional Sanded Paper, Pastels

The challenge to this piece was it's complexity. I did have to simplify some, and to invent a couple hands of foliage to fill in where I omitted visual chaos. I knew that once all sketched onto the sand paper, it would be hard to keep up with what the lines 'meant' so I outlined with red, violet, or green pastel pencil as I went. This proved to be very helpful. I knew that 'value' was going to be a real challenge for this piece. #1 because the darkest and highest contrast objects were in the foreground and these were 'cool' colors #2 because behind them were flaming reds. It's just the nature of even a dark red to be brighter than any blue or blue green.

Thought it might be interesting to show the reference work. First is the original snapshot. Second is the crop from that original that I used as the inspiration.

Back to the Sycamore with Bill James

I’ve been stalled, art-wise.  I got to a point where I didn’t know what to do next that would keep me growing. I felt like something energetic and emotive was beating on the walls from deep inside, but what I was doing was just not giving it expression. Did I need to move into abstracts? Did I need another couple media under my belt to have some choices in times like these? Did I need to scrap all my reference work and strive to collect only images shot in the dark with a slice of light piercing the gloom?

I bemoaned to my friend that I couldn’t believe established artists weren’t using the internet and Photoshop to reach and teach students coast to coast in a personal way that didn’t require expensive travel, or limit the student to local teachers. Then I discovered Bill James, master of three media, who offered just that.
I submitted my 4 best recent pieces for an overall review. The upshot was that I lacked dramatic lighting and attendant value changes, which would not only add focus and energy, but would also allow 3-dimensional form to be emphasized, adding depth. What I thought was bright light was just too dim.  What Bill did was SHOW me how to envision the life back into my own work. He digitally re-tooled one of my jpgs to show me what HE saw that was missing. This is even better than having a teacher ‘show’ you on your own canvas.

So, here are the Sycamore Branches from November 2009, re-polished.


One thing I confirmed from this exercise is that my Rembrandt pastels just aren’t cutting it. The brightest brights are just plain flat and true darks outside of pure black are non-existent. I was able to get the pop only after finding that a few of my Sennelier were applicable.

This has set me on the great search for better quality pastels. This is going to be a considerable investment, as you know. And I’ve never ever been okay with the 16 color crayon box. SO, I have ordered a few selected super-darks from Diane Townsend Soft Form and Terry Ludwig and some mid tones from Great American ArtWorks to see how these compare to Rembrandt and how they layer.

If I like them, the long term plan is to cover all the bases with a couple sets of Great American, selected Ludwigs, and mostly Unison. This also forces me into a ‘big box’ storage system for all the brands. I’ve spent many hours comparing every pastel storage system I can find….It’s looking like a Heilman box (gulp).

Candlelight Mass

 11.5 x 10.5" Soft Pastels on Wallis professional grade sanded paper

This painting began with a photo of Japanese Maple leaves back-lit by the bright November sun. I imagined I would paint a sunny salute to the winter blues. But I studied the reference, squinting and glancing for quite some time. I wanted to be sure I knew what this painting was about before I began. Christmas music played soothingly in the background. Soon I saw that the leaves looked like little red-robed fairy-angels hovering over a candle lit service in a large cathedral. The blue sky became the cathedral window, soft with the blue of an early evening sky. The little halos of light became distant candles. When I finally finished, I saw the Virgin Mary in silhouette with babe in arms, an entirely unintended likeness.

I liked the process for this painting. Figuring out the background was a trick, but after that I was not plagued by fears that I was toiling over a disaster. I love layering rich color with pastels.

Have a blessed holiday season, everyone!

Ladies of the Court

7.5x13” on Wallis museum grade sanded paper


Rex Begonias sport some of nature's most beautiful foliage. Their leaves, like fancy court skirts are quilted, blistered, crimped, and ruffled. Their fiber optic-like stems can light the interior spaces with an appropriately sultry and spicy glow.

At first I felt that this subject was a bit ambitious for me, especially since I just spent a week working on an utterly lackluster piece that I buried with the other junk. But, this is where I want to go, sharing the intimate spaces of nature that have always seemed to be my secret treasures. I figured I had better start reaching for the hard stuff. With each of the many times I was ready to throw it away, something would go right and I would keep working. I was surprised at the end by the contribution of the final lower left leaf. Its strong design really suggested the 'courtliness' of this scene in a way entirely absent from the photo reference. I was finally able to describe the sense of whimsy that accompanied my admiration of these leaves and their interior spaces.

(I don't yet understand it, even years after this was painted. Whenever someone (so far that means 'anyone') see this painting for the first time, they have an instinctual and physical revulsion to it, as though they have been punched in the gut. I've seen a lot of ho-hum paintings in my life and none made me groan out loud. Very curious indeed.)