Silver Grey

This is the latest, an abstract composition of forms defined mostly by color; the colors mostly subtle grays. These trees, rather homely as trees go, have been transformed by the constant assault of nature, and have a runty survivor’s dignity.  The color scheme and I go back to childhood;  I like weathered, silver grey beach houses and driftwood fences, dried grasses, and sand peppered by violet shadows.  Not colorful?  Look again.

The small indication of the figure was added today, and she may or may not stay.   The composition may hold up  without her, but the warm tones of her figure  and the suggestion of scale thrown into this blender of lights and darks seemed helpful.

Light on Sand

untitled, oil on hand primed linen, 22 x 24″

The Light Staccato

I can finally put this into “sleep” mode  and let it dry for varnishing.  The whole experience of painting it has been a privilege, really, as well as a continuing part of my education.

When I look back at my intentions, and see the finished painting, it’s not unlike what a parent must feel when they suddenly see their child through detached eyes, see them grown,  mature and independent.   They’ve become something that is part of you, and yet become themselves as well.  This piece is like that. It’s only partly what I anticipated, but perhaps the part that is “itself”  is better than what I had planned, and it’s good that it works that way.  I wouldn’t want full control even if I could get it.

Kailua

untitled, 21 x 27 ” oil on linen

As far as intentions go, I can say that it has the breeziness and movement that I was after, I find that my eye moves through it pretty well, and the color and contrasts are true to the look and the spirit of the place.  It’s got the being-there feeling that I think is the whole point of, well, being there.

My personal sentiments remain the same…I wonder where this painting will be one day, if people will recognize the care that is behind it. Hopefully so.  It may end up anywhere in the world, because you never can tell about these things.  But I’ve had the experience of the work itself, the being-there part. Setting up in the early morning, fighting the wind and the light changes,  meeting the people you will always meet, and rethinking and scraping down difficult passages; the whole bit.  Always wondering, always debating my choices.  The foreground has been reworked four times, I’d guess.  But it works now.

I rebuilt the stretcher bars to a lighter weight, the 4″ ones were too much, and the frame is currently awaiting it’s final finish.  I look forward to seeing it varnished…that’s like the baptism.  That’s when the deal is sealed.

There’s more coming, trust me.  I worked on two studies this morning, which may remain as small pieces, within yards of this place.  I guess it just suits me.

Like chasing the wind

I’ve finished Erik’s portrait.  The sittings, about an hour each day over Spring break, were a wonderful shared experience, but frankly more so for myself than the subject!

Erik was a trooper, but at 14, being painted by your father is not a high priority when compared with all the other things that teenagers have to occupy themselves. And I can agree with that.  However, that being understood, at one point I reminded him of the investement he was making.  It’s not about today, my son. After I’m gone, this will remind you of a sliver of time that has truly passed like the wind.  In hindsight, the time spent sitting will seem like nothing, and that’s when you’ll be really glad we got together on this project.   Trust me.

Erik Portrait Erik at 14 Oil on linen               20 x 16″

Once or twice I thought that the sittings might actually cause him to explode somehow.  Boys aren’t psychically built for posing, not at 14, and I remained pretty sympathetic throughout.  12 minutes on the model stand, 5 minute break was the pattern  Next time, if I can get up to bat again, I’d like to get him playing guitar or something characteristic of his interests.

My goal, to directly create a simple and fresh likeness with as little fussing as possible, is largely realized.  It’ll get signed today, and then we’ll wait a couple months for varnish.  The frame is under construction, a fairly simple 2″ poplar moulding I designed.  I’ll post that when the time comes.

Spring Break portrait

My son Erik is on Spring Break for two weeks, and so we’ve been scheduling sittings each morning as part of an attempt to capture the look of him at 14, and the crazy rate of growth he’s experiencing.  I know that it’s hard to manage the sittings at his age, but he’s giving it a good shot, and for me the time spent together is precious because I can see how fast this is all going away.

We’ll have time for, perhaps, three more sittings before school and life reclaim him.  But the likeness is there, and it’s minor shifts and  background work at this point for the most part.  Wish us luck.

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Erik at Fourteen, oil on canvas, 20 x 16″

Step down, then back

Today, Monday,  kicked off with winter weather that changed dramatically about every twenty minutes.  Since my friend Roger and I had already determined to paint something this morning, we set up in the local beach park and I dashed  out the beginnings of this little piece, about 4 x 5″.

Long filbert brushes and three part medium, a combination I haven’t used in years. It felt very good to paint solely for personal satisfaction and let the hour go where it may. It’s as good a start to a very busy week as any I can imagine, and though this painting is not much in itself, it does reflect recent inner rumblings I’ve noticed about doing some pieces that are more in the line of  personal, painterly notes. Subjects of little grandeur or consequence that matter only to myself.  I might give it a little studio work on a rainy day from memory…

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Nine o’clock shadows…

Quick posting here.

I was out  just after sunup with major winds and overcast conditions.  The canvas was bouncing around like crazy, which only added to the pleasure I took in spending about two more hours carving away at this.  Kept me from getting fussy on the second day.

untitledI should be using my old Anderson easel, but the half-box is (unbelievably) holding it’s own just fine. Wore me out, fighting the wind for that long. The sunlight arrived, giving me a chance to study the greens more closely, along with everything else. I love paint without a medium…it’s harder work, but it’s a solid underpinning, no glare or stickiness.  Big bristle brushes, a Raphael size 22 was one I noticed I used a lot. I want an exciting, developed surface quality, and the canvas seems perfect for what I’m intending.

One newish thing ( it seems new but I’ve been doing it a couple years) is the mixing of all my greens from blues, reds, and yellows.   I think the one and only place outdoors where I still use Viridian is in the ocean.

There’s nothing like it!

Just back from tilting at my windmills this morning at Kailua beach, and it was unbelievably good.

The 22 x 28″ canvas managed to stay planted on the French easel, perhaps not the  optimum choice for such a windy morning.  But I’d scouted a protected position when I did the pencil sketches, and was pretty confident that I’d be okay.

There’s nothing like a lay-in that goes well. It’s like that great date with your spouse- to-be, where you foresee all the great things that are going to happen, and everything seems fresh and clear and possible.  Painterly optimism can soar in this first stage, as it did for me this morning.

The setup was perfect because I like to lay-in a significant painting on an overcast day. Everything is reduced to midtones and nicely flattened, and since lay-in time can be one of the longest of my recurring sessions, an overcast day is good. And I got what I wanted, a cool morning with a smart breeze. After getting in the major preliminary tones, the sun broke through.  Everything lit up, the proverbial scales fell from my eyes, and I could see the path before me, much as I’d  experienced when I selected this spot a week ago. Shadows intensified, colors emerged, people began milling about in the trees in brightly colored beachwear as if they’d risen out of the sand.

Kailuauntitled,  oil on linen  22 x 28″

So, this is now a complete go, and I look forward to tackling it.  I have great hopes, but also enough experience to recognize that in the hours and days to come, that optimism will be tested by disappointments and shortcomings yet to be revealed.

I’ll probably reach a point of  disillusionment where I’ll ask ” What did I see in this place? What am I after?”  (That’s what the pencil sketch helps with).  I’m already skittish about the centrality of those canoes in the painting, but my hope is that, since they aren’t the central subject but merely an incidental shape-part of the whole, I can be forgiven.  In order to get the tree mass on the left where I needed it, something had to give.

I’m hopeful!

Konahua’nui progress…

It’s probably about my sixth outdoor session on this piece, which is not so much considering that it’s a subject that is right in my  neighborhood.  If you can even say that, I suppose, because it’s more like I’m in it’s neighborhood.

It’s going pretty well.  The building process, solid color strokes woven over one another, is working as I hoped it would, and though the going is rather slow, I think it’s a good approach.  Some knife work in the shadows and lights gives a nice variety to the surface, which I’d like to see become richer as I progress.  The foreground area will be getting more attention from here…there’s a beautiful pale green of Cerulean and Cad Lemon that I want to observe when the light is just breaking across the  foreground, and build it in the right value.  There is so much wealth in that area of the painting, I want to make it as interesting as I can.

I’m also very pleased that the linen canvas, one which I primed myself, is performing just as I had hoped.  The frame for this is in production, along with the frame for “Sunlit Surf-Lanai Lookout”,  which should be assembled next week.

Konahua'nui