Off the Easel: original oil paintings

This poem was written by my beautiful mother. Due to my familiarity with Jewish customs, I have grown to embrace this possible scenario for the Nativity, rather than the traditional interpretations. Perhaps, some day I will paint the scene. Enjoy, and Merry Christmas.

Song of the Midwife
By Connie Rodgers

The night was cold and chill¬
With the dark came
The promise of yet more rain.
The streets of quiet Bethlehem still rang
With the jostling throng
That all day long
Kept coming,
Expanding the tiny town
Like a loaf of bread,
The staff of life it was named for.

The inn was never still.
Coming and going, shouting and ordering,
Bleating and braying and bartering
Blending into festival song.
I sat and watched my son, my eldest one,
Begin to turn them down.

He’d say there’s no room,
But try down the road,
I cannot take your group,
My grotto is too small to bear
Your load.
And then another and another
Was turned away.

The night grew late.
The steady flow of travelers
Did not abate.
The Roman curfew
Only slowed
The weary press
Of those who came to pay their taxes.

Then one man came and knocked,
A special plea in his tired voice
Caught my attention.
Of me I make no special mention,
But my wife is tired, and very young,
To bear the load she brings
On this long road,
Is there no room for just my wife?

No room, my son began,
And again made ready
To close the door.
Beloved, I called,
Wait now and call them back,
The girl is ready soon to bear a child,
The night is cold. With but one beast
If they are willing,
They can lodge in our stable
And flee the chilling air.

So it was done.

I stayed on my rug
Hugging to me
The memories of youthful healthy days
When I was not a burden to my kin,
But had so many ways to offer
Gifts.
My bones are old, and shift so slowly,
Our fields reduced,
The income growing scarce¬—
An old woman has no gifts to give,
No help to offer.

A knock,
A fervent plea
Interrupted my sad review.
The man returned, fatigue replaced by
Anxiety on his face.
My wife, her time is here,
There is no kindred woman near.
She bears alone.
She is so young. Is no one here who knows,
Who can offer the help needed
At this special time?

I’ll come.

Arising from my bed
I motioned aside, with the nodding of my head
My son’s sure disapproval.
It is work I can yet do,
And she is alone.

I hurried down the path
To the stalls nearby,
Watching the clear light
Of a rising star
Far larger than any other
In the now bright sky.
Peace to you, mother,
She said
As I entered the cave’s narrow entrance.
And to you, my child,
I returned, and asked
You suffer?
The Lord’s will be done
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
The ancient response
Sang on her tongue.
I saw around her, or so it seemed to me,
A glow of great serenity.

The travail soon ended.
With the birth, I was witness
To a wondrous sight ;
A virgin bringing forth.
In the hushed night I spoke,
You have a son.
My heart began to swell
As quietly she said
I know.
He shall be called
Emmanuel.
The Lord’s handmaiden is pleased
If she has served him well.
My trembling hands held close
That Holy Child,
His little arms stretched out
As I anointed him with that
That she already had in her pack.
I swaddled him and laid him
In her outstretched arms.
As He lay suckling
There was a peaceful, joyous air
I will remember till I lie down
For final rest.

I called to mind
My blessed father’s words
Of prophecy
For Israel’s redemption.
Many now are they that hope
For deliverance from our foreign yoke.
But as 1 looked upon that scene I knew
A different freedom was in view
With this sweet Child’s birth.
Hallelujahs
Filled the earth and sky
With praise.
The cavern was illuminated
With the star’s bright rays,
Yet only she and I
And the nursing babe
Seemed aware
Of what had come to pass.

Arising, I left the two alone
And hurried home.
I bore the sacred story to my bed,
I bowed my head
And asked forgiveness
For the time when age had seemed a burden.
I thanked my Lord, our nation’s King,
For the small part I played
In witnessing this wondrous birth.
The virgin’s quiet voice
Rings through my happy heart
The Lord’s handmaiden is well pleased
If she has done her part.

I found the man
Who first had summoned me,
To tell him
All was well
But saw him near the manger
With shepherds close behind
Who told of herald angels
In nearby hills.

I lie and watch
The morning sky
That glows
In jubilant harmony
With my soul.

© Connie Rodgers 1985. All Rights Reserved.

Filed Under: Life 4 Comments »

Please understand that the following are my own thoughts and perceptions and in no way represent nor are endorsed by Gerhartz Studio. All images and photos are copyrighted to their respected artists and may not be reproduced or distributed without the permission of the copyright holder. I have done my best to exclude any persons who did not give permission to have their photos taken, but if I am in error and you want a photo or image removed, please contact me at info@talyajohnson.com and I will be happy to oblige.

One of the first things that struck me when I attended Daniel Gerhartz’s workshop was the familiarity of the landscape. I’ve spent a considerable amount of time studying Dan’s paintings, and his love of nature, yet the orderliness of his works were evident within a five mile radius of his home and studio. I drank in the neat plots of farmland, picturesque brick red barns, livestock grazing, and an almost Scandinavian feel to the architecture.

The landscaping around the studio was filled with the flowers, herbs, and veggies tucked behind free standing rock walls and large boulders. Behind the studio there is a seemingly wild open meadow, and the light on it in the mornings and evenings is quite recognizable in many of Dan’s paintings.

The studio had a rustic feel to it, with many wood accents throughout-a spacious round-feeling room, with painted dark middle-value, gray-green. Large, high, north facing windows or sky lights were the primary source of light, with full spectrum fluorescent lights mounted just beneath them(to supplement the cool light source when needed), but still at least 9 feet above the floor. Even with all the cool lighting, the studio was a little darker and the reflected light a little warmer than what I was used to. This was the first of my darker/warmer encounters that would come up in due course of the workshop.

In the center of the studio was a model “stage” with a sitting area on opposing sides so that two different models and still life set-ups can be up as the same time. Sumptuous dark fabrics were used as backdrops, and two overhead clip-on lamps were positioned in front of chairs for the models. Antique chairs and various other props were neatly sitting on shelves around the perimeter of the studio. Most noticeable, were Dan’s beautiful paintings. These masterpieces have an energy and passion that is not easily seen in the reproductions. It was worth the trip just to see the paintings! Throughout the workshop it became apparent to me that Dan is able to achieve this, not only by talent, skill, and hard work, but by painting what he knows-what he loves. Daniel Gerhartz paints was he sees. Whether the vision is in his head or in front of him, he doesn’t paint to sell, to impress, or to improve. He paints to rejoice, to progress, but most of all, he paints to show his viewers how he sees-and Dan sees beauty.

I arrived for the first day late! Two hours late!! I suppose jet lag had taken a heavier toll than I anticipated. When I walked into the studio disheveled and embarrassed, I was greeted warmly by both students and instructor. He was in the middle of his first demo, painting a blonde, lovely, little thing that I recognized as a favorite model. Dan and my new friend Joan that I had met the night before quickly caught me up on what I’d missed.

Dan sets up his palette in the same way each time he paints. For the workshop he used a French companion looking palette with a middle gray tone in the center for his mixing. He puts large globs of paint on the top, and mixes in the center with sometimes three or more large pools of mixed skin tones which he progressively modifies as the painting progresses.  His palette color selection is basically a split-primary palette with the addition of a couple of earth pigments and orange.

• Titanium White or Titanium Zinc white
• Cadmium Lemon Yellow
• Cadmium Yellow Medium
• Raw Sienna
• Cadmium Orange
• Rembrandt Permanent Red Medium or Winsor Red (Winsor & Newton)
• Permanent Alizarin Crimson
• Rembrandt Transparent Oxide Brown or Burnt Sienna
• Prussian Blue and/or Ultramarine Blue
• Ivory Black

Most of the students seemed surprised by the use of Ivory black. Dan uses this almost blue black, often instead of blue-making his blues and greens very quiet and suitable for shadows and receding planes on the face and hair. My own surprise was in the Prussian Blue which is thought to be marginally lightfast, but during the workshop Dan didn’t use it, so neither did I. I asked Dan why he doesn’t use Phthalo’s blue instead, and he said that he finds that pigment too saturated, and it tends to take over his palette. If he does use it, he mixes it with black to tone it down (I only lasted two workshop days before I could no longer stand it, and added a phthalo green to my palette-I can’t seem to paint without the stuff, I don’t have problems controlling it, you just don’t need nearly as much of it as the other colors-I mixed the phthalo green with the crimson to make a super-dark warm-gray violet.) New to me, were the raw sienna, and the transparent brown oxide, both of which I liked very much. The raw sienna mixed with a little transparent white,  is almost exactly my own skin tone in light; and when added to crimson, the transparent oxide, or even ivory black makes beautiful luminous and surprisingly saturated (but not too saturated) shadows-it’s a keeper for me. The brown oxide is less orange than burnt sienna-very warm, and certainly convenient. I didn’t reach for it as often as the raw sienna though, so am not sure if I will adopt it or not.

Dan used mostly flat bristle brushes (he doesn’t like brights-I didn’t catch why) of various sizes leaving the softies for when the canvas was covered in paint and he needed to soften edges. He used Langnickel Royal Sables #5590 for his softies, and they are way too soft for use without a medium. I never heard him address what he used for a medium, except to say that it had a very small amount of Damar in it (which is one of the reasons, I assume, that he does not varnish with Damar). For the class, we were instructed not to use solvents, so most had a jar of walnut or safflower oil for medium and rinsing brushes. I used walnut oil and alkyd oil mixed together, so that the paint would stay open throughout the day, but tack up for the flight home (this worked great, BTW: one part alkyd to three parts oil. The mixture lasted all week and I used it both as the occasional medium and to rinse my brushes even more occasionally). I also had a pile of Rublev Impasto medium that I used to bulk up my paints and enable me to use less white. I noticed Dan did not rinse his brushed much while painting, preferring instead to simply wipe them on a paper towel.

Dan’s method or painting process (at least for the workshop) was pretty straight forward and consistent (very unlike my own that changes sometimes dramatically depending on my subject). It goes as follows:

• 1. He painted on oil primed linen
• 2. He toned his canvas on the spot with a thin wash of neutralized color that is often the opposite temperature than his light source and/or subject. After putting on the wash, he wiped it off with a paper towel leaving a beautiful transparent tone in the texture of the canvas.
• 3. Squinting down hard, he drew with vine charcoal using straight lines, the largest masses of the face and feature landmarks-very minimalistic and linear, but impressively accurate. While he did not discourage measuring, he never measured himself. For accuracy he stated that objectivity was of the utmost importance. He stepped way back from his drawing seemingly every 30 seconds, and glanced through a mirror behind him to keep his vision objective. Squinting down to assess and simplify values, dancing back and forth from the easel, and using a the mirror were concepts he drilled into us constantly, and by the last day of class, all the students were much more active in their painting than they had previously been.

Here’s Dan looking through a black mirror-by looking up into the mirror you see a reverse image of the model.

• 4. Daniel mixed and placed his lightest value and his darkest value on the canvas so that he could always use them for comparison. Both the light and the dark were significantly darker and warmer than I expected. Daniel often used opposing color temperatures to convey form or 3 dimensions, but he asserts that no matter the temperature of the light source, the deepest shadows will always be hot. While I can see colors more than most, temperature is more of a challenge for me, and I had to just go on faith in Dan’s ability and knowledge, when I painted my own shadows so much hotter than I saw them. By the end of the workshop, however, I too was able to see the intense heat in the deepest of shadows. What paints make hot shadows? This is where the transparent oxide and crimson came in really handy. Even blue and green are warmer than black, though not as warm as brown, the deepest crimson, and violet. The same applies to the lights. Any color is warmer than pure white. Black and white are the coldest colors on the palette-thinking of snow and space helped solidify that concept in my brain-brrrr
• 5. While Dan says he was blocking in his lights and darks, what he was really doing was “tiling” them in. Brush stroke by brush stroke, he filled the empty spaces grouping all his values into the light area or the shadow area. He grouped his halftones in the light category. He constantly compared the temperatures and values to his initial lightest light and darkest dark notes. If a mixed color wasn’t quite right, he wiped or scraped it off immediately. Continuously dancing back and forth, eyes looking as if they are practically closed from squinting so hard, and often holding his brush like a man wielding the sword, he continued to tile in the painting, a brushstroke at a time. In the first demo, he didn’t address edges very much, but by the last demo, it was mostly what he talked about.

• 6. Dan finished the painting by addressing edge handling, and final correction in values and temperature. He proof-read the painting by reviewing the edges and temperatures, making adjustments accordingly. Sometimes adding a sharp edge, other times softening. He made it look so easy. On one of the following days he also mentioned that the common repeated “rule” regarding edges closest to us on the picture plane needing to be the sharpest; as opposed to edges farthest needing be the softest. He said that he did not agree with this formula, since it was not consistent with his observations. He just painted the edges softness and hardness as he saw them. He would squint down hard, and see which edges remained-those were his hardest edges. The edges that dissolved the first were his softest. [* A Tali epiphany! This particular insight was the most powerful for my own progression. I saw what he meant immediately. Early in my painting journey and earlier in my graphic design education, I gobbled up and embraced the "rules" as if they were living waters. But the longer I progress in painting, the more formulas, rules and methodologies seem to becoming more of a hindrance and in conflict to what I see before me, than a means to progression. "Paint what you see" has now taken on a whole new meaning. Being able to understand what I see, is an added bonus, but really not imperative to representational painting. Being able to see, see correctly, and trust my vision is far more important! BTW, I'm pretty sure that edge variety is the result of both where the edge lies in the picture plane AND value contrast AND intensity of the light source (light when an object "glows" if it is very strongly lit, yet has a dark background). But I may end up being wrong-it is only for my own educational pursuits that I want to know the "why"-brain food and such, it might come in handy some day. ] Back to the demo, Dan’s values, drawing, and proportions on the painting were spot on. He ended up adjusting hardly perceptible temperature differences. In a matter of two to three brush strokes, the model’s shirt and the backdrop’s floral texture appeared as if by magic!

After a break for lunch we eager students had a chance to try our own hand. It didn’t take long to see that it was not easy at all. While this particular group of students seemed more experienced or skilled than a previous workshop I’ve attended, the task of painting a portrait with a reasonable likeness in 3 hours proved daunting most (there were a few artists that thought it was too much time-I’m one of the slow ones, sigh). The class had fourteen students total, which were split seven to each side-each getting their own model.  I must admit that my only dissatisfaction was that I felt rather crowded, with little elbow room to mimic Dan’s painting dance, let alone be able to see well. But my poor eyesight has always been an obstacle, and my phobia of crowds a personal issue as well, so perhaps I was unreasonable in my disappointment-especially since the ratio would be considered quite favorable in most workshop or classroom scenarios. Both models were pretty young things, with rather soft proportional facial features-more difficult to paint than people with strong features that make them easily recognizable even if the proportions are not in perfect likeness. Dan went from person to person, giving personal advice and observations, all the while reminding the class to step back, squint, and keep values and shapes simple. He spoke of the common mistake of not making the head large enough in comparison to the placement of the eyes, reminding us of the mass of the skull that often gets overlooked. He also collectively reminded us that it was ok to tell the model if she has moved and to help her get back in her position. Throughout the workshop I found this bit of instruction a little difficult, since every student remembered the model in a slightly different position, and only the most assertive got their way. Still, the changes were minimal enough that I didn’t find that it interfered with my painting, and the students were amiable enough (what a relief) that there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings regarding the matter. It did become a bit of a problem on the very last day when we had a full composition with model and still life props-this is where my camera came in quite handy, so I kept my mouth shut as a few students moved the model to match their paintings rather than move their paintings to match the model. As we progressed, Dan often would show what he meant by painting on the students canvas, but with me, he only mixed a color (adding orange with is a color I rarely use out of the tube for portraits) he thought better representing the area I was working on. He was always good about pointing out what he liked, as well as areas he felt needed work. He was positive, kind and encouraging, treating all the students with equal respect, and answering all questions with the same patience and interest as if it was the first time he’s heard them.

For some unknown reason I was a little edgy the first day. Perhaps it was jetlag, nerves, or insecurity (most likely). It could have also been on the account of being late, using a palette of unfamiliar colors, feeling hemmed in, or not having sufficient light for my feeble eyes nor the nerve to ask for more light to compensate (which I worked up the nerve to do on the third day). Whatever the reason, I was rather relieved when it was time to go home. Here’s Kate, the first of my painting studies for the workshop. I wasn’t too unhappy with the result-though she certainly was nowhere near finished. She looked rather crowded and annoyed, however-which I think is a little funny, since it reflects more my own feelings than the models. Emoting is something that seems to be the natural result of trying to paint. I did not mean to put any feelings in the painting-I saw it strictly as a study, and had no feelings for the model either way, and yet, because my lack of regard or distaste for the model, my own feelings of for the moment took shape in the paint. How does that happen?

I will address the rest of the workshop in less detail, since the following days were mostly repeats of the first, only each day, a new concept took root. Dan covered all the fundamentals the first day, using the following days to emphasize a particular point or demo a different light source.

Filed Under: Resources 3 Comments »

I hope you can all come to this display! It will be my last show for the year, and a great opportunity to socialize and get ahead on holiday shopping. Enjoy delicious refreshments, great company and beautiful live music while you browse my latest paintings–what could better? Kimberly has agreed to display some of her work as well. Many of the paintings displayed are very recent and this will be your opportunity to be among the first to see them. You really don’t want to miss this!

Filed Under: Exhibits 1 Comment »

Full image of Welcome Home, oil painting © Talya Johnson 2009

I am always amazed at all the colors that are present on a seemingly “white” surface. As I gazed out my window this spring, I let my eyes relax and lose a distinct focus. The colors that suddenly danced before me were dazzling. Nothing could stand in my way as I quickly sketched the welcome spring light embracing the new foliage and beautiful bark of these sentinels. Since the light was fading fast, I decided to write a description of the colors rather than to use the limited availability of pre-set colors of my pastels. I took some quick snapshots as well, and in the following weeks commenced the work of creating a painting that matched my vision. I tried to incorporate more soft edges than I normally do when painting trees, in order to bring added focus to the light itself. Many symbols appeared as the painting took life, and the resulting image gave me comfort and joy. Click on the above image or any of the following images for a larger view.

Close-up detail (left) of Welcome Home © Talya Johnson 2009

Close-up detail (center) from Welcome Home © Talya Johnson

Close-up detail (right) of Welcome Home © Talya Johnson 2009

Filed Under: Commissions 3 Comments »

Isn’t it funny how we imprint on a certain time in our lives, and every time we think of a person, we think of them as they were during this time? My own children see their grandfather as the cheerful, white haired, “sugar Daddy” that he has been to them. They envision him is his business attire. They note his quick, sharp mathematical calculations. They feel and enjoy his love of the outdoors. They enjoy hearing his flute playing. They listen to his thoughts and ideas regarding humanity. They love their grandfather. But they just about dropped dead when I told them that this successful business man, was the energetic dairy farming protector of my youth.

How I loved running down to the refet (dairy farm) to watch my Abba (Daddy) work! I watched as he milked the full cows, hooking them up to the funny machines that extracted the white milk.

“Tali!” He would call as he noticed me watching and motion for me to follow outside when he was finished. The machines were very loud.

Outside he would point to the cows that he named after my sisters and me.

“There! Avigile, the new one. Oh look! There is Tali. Did you know I named you after her?” He would tease me. I always knew I was the first. I knew where my name came from. But I always went along with the joke.

A few times he put Yael and I to work watching the cows to see which one was in heat. We watched which jumped on the other and told on the suspects. If I recall correctly, we had to write down the cow’s number. I think he had those numbers memorized—Dad was always so good with numbers! As a reward, we were allowed to watch while Dad artificially inseminated the cows. While this may not sound appealing to most, I found it an absolute thrill. There was nothing Dad could not do!  When birthing time came, we got to watch as he labored to deliver a breach calf—all the pulling and tugging, and then a perfect baby born. I was sure it was all Dad’s doing. I remember him coming home in the evenings, tired, sweaty, smelling of the refet. There was never a better scent to my young nose. At night I would kiss his prickly cheeks and loved how rough and manly they felt, though I would tease him that he needed to shave again.

When we lived in Shfeya, my sisters and I had a tree house. Some of the neighboring boys would come by and threaten to invade our little haven, and we had regular wars with them trying to maintain our territory. But once, the boys said that they would come and wreck our tree house. I was so worried. I told Dad. I’ll never forget his response, though he himself probably has forgotten the incident. He said, “If they try, I will break their bones.”  Anyone who knows Dad, knows he is not the combative type. For instance, at one time, he would carry candy bars in his pockets during his military service, instead of the required grenades. So this was an unusual response from him, but one that I found so utterly comforting, that I was rarely ever afraid again in my own home. Oh sure, it’s not something that’s “correct” to say these days. I can just hear the lecture I would give my own husband were he ever to say such a thing to our children, LOL! And of course, I know now, that there is no way Dad would have hurt the boys, after all, they too were just children. But the statement was what an insecure girl needed to hear. I knew he was strong, I knew that he loved me, I knew he would protect and provide for me. Indeed he always has.

I love you Daddy, you are my hero!

Filed Under: Life 1 Comment »

I really enjoyed working with everyone at the Color Relations class this last Saturday. I hope everyone is starting to see color even during this drab season! Many of you asked about how I set up my palette and exactly which colors and pigments I use. I will start with my bare-bones, limited palette. While I do enjoy experimenting with new pigments and higher quality artist paints, the Winsor & Newton Artisan water mixable paints are my work-, and for most of the time I stick with the following limited palette. The paints have a high pigment load, and excellent working properties for knife painting. Best of all they are permanent, inexpensive (comparatively), easy to wash off, and non-toxic (I do not use the cads this brand offers) in case the boys decide to try their hand at finger-painting. Click on the chart below to see it full size.

Filed Under: Paintings, Resources 2 Comments »

I suppose that to many, my loose and often colorful style would lead viewers to believe that my paintings are completely spontaneous; with colors randomly chosen from a wide array of paint straight out of the tube. And if that is the ease which I convey, I am quite happy, since it is an illusion that I work very hard at conveying!  In reality, though, most of my paintings are very planned out, with weeks of work before I ever make a mark on my board. While the ideas pour in readily and bombard my thoughts, the execution takes weeks to months of preparation and planning. In the next few posts, I will let all have a peek into my process. Keep in mind, of course, that every painting (like children) usually takes a slightly different approach in the making and raising.

This particular piece, which is yet unnamed will be loosely based on a snapshot that I took several years ago. The first basic step I take is to develop a concept. For me, the concept has mostly to do with the light flow direction of the painting. In order to show my concept, I do many little “thumbnail” sketches or my idea, breaking separating the light from the dark. These thumbnails are quite simple and abstract. At this point I’m not worried about the subject of the painting, only the concept and composition. I make sure that there is unequal balance in my lights and darks. I liken the light to the setting in a literary work, though it isn’t an exact parallel. But the light sets the whole tone or mood of the painting. My thumbnails can be done with any medium; pencil, pen, marker, paint, computer–whatever’s handy and suits my purpose. Once the thumbnails are completed, I lay them all out and choose my three favorites. Then from those, I choose the one I like the best. This can either happen immediately or take a few days for me to decide. I was surprised at my final choice since my reference photo is rather dark, but it seems that here I am more drawn to the lighter division.

Now with concept concretely identified, I need to firm up the composition. The composition is the layout or design of the painting-it’s how the artist has arrangement of the shapes and values (value are how light or dark the area or subject is) of the painting. I sometimes use the armature of the rectangle, to check and tighten up my compositions. The armature is one of the methods used by Renaissance artists.  It “structures” the rectangle using diagonal lines. The two main diagonals divide the area in half, both vertically and horizontally. Likewise the diagonals of those halves will give divisions of fourths and thirds. It all goes back to the universal phi or golden mean or even harmony. There seem to be certain universal proportions that are visible in nature that mathematicians, philosophers, and scientists have identified. Putting them in their simplest terms they are halves, thirds, and quarters. You’ll note later that I use similar proportions to divide my values later on as well. Musical harmony is divided similarly, as are dance steps. Thirds also apply to the pleasing solidarity of the triangle that da Vinci was so fond of. Refer to the notes at the end of this post for additional reference on the armature of the rectangle. So I used Photoshop to re-draw my concept, but this time I used the armature’s divisions and diagonals to align my shapes. You can see, it is still very close to my initial thumbnail. The red lines are the armature of the rectangle.

I didn’t choose to follow ALL the lines, only the ones the suited my concept. I highlighted my chosen divisions in yellow/green. Think of the intersecting lines like a child’s dot-to-dot. The large circle is my focal point. I feel that all successful paintings must have a focal point, a little like the leading actor in a play. I am not terribly faithful to the armature, mostly because I enjoy bringing a little discord or tension into my paintings. Otherwise, my use of bright, happy colors may translate to the viewer as being a little too contrived.

Next I concentrate on breaking up my values. This is often referred to by artists as a value study.  I first separate the lights into two values. Normally I would stop there, but in this case, I wanted to break up the light further, to really bring the eyes toward the focus.

Looking at these from a distance, I’ve also decided to decrease the size of the orb just a smidge. Notice how I lean groupings of threes. There are three trees to the left. Many of the positive (subject) and negative (background) shapes are triangular as well. Then to the right there is the boy, the tree he is leaning on, and the light (looks like the sun?) behind him. The boy represents us, human kind. The light or sun represents our purpose, home, or creation. And the tree is the mediator or facilitator, giving us access to reach the light.  There will be small “sky holes” in the canopy above as well leading our eyes upward as well. A friend of mine has said, “Trees have a majesty and time all their own and represent the tie between heaven and earth. ” How right she is! I did not have this symbolism in mind when I first chose my concept. I was simply attracted to the idea and flow of light. The symbols emerged as I was working out the details. I feel that the value study supports my concept, composition, and focal point beautifully. Working all this out before touching the canvas, and finding the symbols hidden in my mind, really frees me to be more creative and expressive when I start diving into the paint. I am setting up the stage, introducing my characters and conflict so the story can start to unfold. Well, almost…I have to prep my board first and draw out my composition-certainly not my favorite part of the process, but necessary, all the same.

More information on the armature of the rectangle can be found in the following books:

The Science of Art: Optical Themes in Western Art from Brunelleschi to Seurat by Martin Kemp
This one is for the serious scholar-it will take me years to understand it all, but it’s fascinating and well written. The author has other books that look to be a yummy read.

Classical Painting Atelier: A Contemporary Guide to Traditional Studio Practice by Juliette Aristides
This one is easier to understand and more instructively oriented. The composition segment is only a small portion of what the book covers, and is fairly straight forward. IMO a must have for any serious student.

The Painter’s Secret Geometry, By C. Bouleau
 I haven’t read this one but plan on acquiring it one of these days.

Filed Under: Paintings 5 Comments »

Color Blocks, Incandescent Light

 

 

Saturday, April 11, 10am to 2 pm at the Palmer Museum

Tuition is $50 for members ($55 nonmembers) • Beginning-advance artists & students welcome

Ages 12 years old and up

Call early to reserve your spot! Call 746-7668

Local artist Talya Johnson will be guiding participants in color exploration through this hands-on workshop. The group will be painting a still life of primary colored blocks.

Invented by the late Henry Hensche, color block studies are an excellent tool in learning to see the relationships between colors.

What to bring: Different brands name their paints differently, so pigment numbers are also listed. Bring single pigment paints if at all possible. Acrylics and oils will be available for those who can’t find certain colors. Please do not bring any solvents to class. Canvas/painting surface will be provided. Because of the nature of painting with the palette knife, this class is geared toward acrylic and oil painters.

Required materials

• Acrylics, water soluble oils, or oil paints in the following colors: Magenta or primary red (PR 122), Yellow, primary yellow, or cad yellow pale hue (PY 74 or similar), Cyan, primary blue, or phthalo blue (PB15.3 or PB15), any kind of White
• Small palette knife
• Palette or disposable palette paper (Stay-wet palette if using acrylics)
• Paper towels or shop towels
• Pastel or charcoal pencil

Optional materials/items

• Additional paints: phthalo green (either shade), cad red light (or similar), permanent green light, lemon yellow (PY3) ultramarine blue (PB29), violet, orange, yellow ochre, burnt sienna
• Portable easel or paint box
• Camera
• Snack and drink

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With snow falling almost daily now, I don’t think I’m the only one around here longing for spring! This particular painting reminds me that spring will eventually come. I was entranced by the simple beauty of these particular potato flowers a few years back, and figured it was high time I painted them.

Buried Treasure, 16 by 20 inches, oil on RayMar Canvas board

Fellow artists have encouraged me to start saving my palette scrapings (left over paint after a painting session). When mixed together, this paint makes beautiful,  neutral “mud”. The paint that I used for “Almost Ready” is quite expensive, and since I hate waste, but also hate running out of paint on my palette, I figured this particular brand would make a good candidate for mud. I scraped the paint, mixed similar colors and faithfully put them in the freezer for a rainy day.  ”Almost Ready” took a loooooong time to complete, so I accumulated a nice amount of mud. My potato blooms made the perfect subject for this high-end mud. Obviously, I had to dive for some pure pigment in the lemon yellows, but all else came from my mud pile.

Have you even dug up potatoes? There is very little in this world more rewarding than digging them up! Every year my boys gather around me and help as I sit in the dirt with a hand trowel, looking for this buried treasure.  The sweet smell of the soil, and its soft texture is intoxicating. The possibility of finding just one more is addicting. We only have two hand trowels but this doesn’t stop anyone from digging. No potato can be left behind and happy is the one who found the potato that got away from the first treasure seeker.

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artic-rose-flyer

Click on the above image and/or link to view and print this flyer. The link is a higher resolution pdf file.

Paint is flying around here as I get ready for my First Friday show in Anchorage. Please share the above flyer with anyone who you think might be interested. Since homeschooling is taking up more of my time these days, this will be my last solo exhibit for a little while (I will continue to paint, but at a more leisurely pace). My new Tali’s Pocket Prints are adorable and affordable. They will make wonderful Christmas presents. My new “When We were Young” original painting series is well under way, and you’ll have the opportunity of seeing (and purchasing, is you are so inclined) the first fruits of this new endeavor. Some of my larger works that you’ve seen before will also be on display as well as signed prints. If you haven’t attended the First Friday exhibits in Anchorage, this is a great opportunity to view some wonderful original art. I’ll be there to answer questions and might even attempt a “live” painting. If you can’t attend, the paintings will be up for most of the month. As always, feel free to contact me if there a particular subject you’d like to see painted, would like to pre-order prints, have questions, or just want to say hi. Hope to see you there!

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