Alan took a photo of our cat I/O a few years ago with this amazing yawn. I’ve wanted to paint this for a while, but couldn’t decide on the right ratio. Square? Rectangular? It looked odd to crop it any more closely. I got an extra 20″ x 16″ canvas from my friend Jenny and opted to use it here.
It had great details: the colors, the ridges of the roof of the mouth, the curl of the tongue, and especially the little barbs. It also had an interesting blueish color cast from the lighting. Though I usually use ultramarine blue for the cooler tones, I switched to cerulean blue deep since that was closer to those colors. I like how the colors look together, so I might stick with this in the future.
I/O is unfortunately missing one of her top fangs now, after it got knocked out after a fight. Otherwise, she is just as (unintentionally) fierce, and is observing this as I write it.
I’m starting a series of paintings to explore two things I’ve wanted to work at more: figures and fabric. I’m always drawn towards art that has people in it, especially people with a distinct mood. I also wanted to build up more technical skill in drawing/painting fabric with realistic weight and drape. I’ve been paying more attention to white walls/fabric in particular to get more attuned to subtle influences of light color and soft reflections.
After some thought I’m going with the name “Statement” for these. I’m looking for poses that communicate a point of view, and I’m challenging myself to not rely on facial expressions if at all possible. It’s also a nod to the role of fabric: not just a thing for comfort, but a thing that reacts to our shapes and reflects our stance.
This one is the result of a collaboration with a talented photographer friend, Jillian of Epoxy Studios. She recently took headshots for Alan, and they were good sports to try some artsy poses that I could paint. I really liked the balance of this image.
I’m also trying out a new surface: a smooth masonite-like board called “claybord“. I don’t particularly like the texture of canvas, so this is a nice change. It’s smoother than I’m used to, which is both good and bad. The paints seem to dry much faster on it too, which can be challenging. Overall, I like the size and how solid they are.
The fabric was particularly challenging. Two things in particular helped:
I’m looking forward to more paintings in this style, hopefully with a range of people.
This is the third repaint of a calendar: this time the story I ended up picking is the “Chinese Cinderella”, Ye Xian.
Every year House of Chu in SJ gives out these calendar scrolls for the (Roman) calendar year with descriptions from the Chinese zodiac. The calendars aren’t always correlated to the nearest Chinese zodiac year, but they always have some kind of interesting illustration on them. I use the illustration as the base for a painting of Chinese folktales and mythology: so far, the association between dragons and water gods, and the rabbit in the moon.
I wasn’t sure what to do with this one when I first started, so I painted over the calendar portions and filled in the overall color scheme. I have one more calendar to go (the one with horses) so I filled that one in at the same time too. I kept the other calendars nearby for reference about the overall feel, and after staring at the koi one for a while decided I should fill in more fish. While thinking about fish, I remembered the “Chinese Cinderella” story. I mimicked the style of the fish and painted in the large golden koi and a few others.
By this point I knew I’d make the lilypads the most prominent repeated elements, outlined in black like the clouds and river in the previous calendars. I also wanted to have a hint of Ye Xian here, reaching out to the fish. I couldn’t eyeball the right spots to put them in, so I needed to mock up what to do next. At this time Adobe announced a few new drawing apps, so I tried out Adobe Sketch on the iPad. It didn’t really suit the precision and duplication I needed for this style of mockup, but I made do with a very basic, very rough sketch.
While that was enough to get the lilypads in the right place, it was just looking off. I realized it was just looking way too busy. I took a fresh photo and reworked it in Photoshop to simplify it. The most confusing part ended up being the bushy plant at the top. Once I took that out, it was easy to fix it in Photoshop and pretty straightforward to paint it. When I actually repainted it, I left hints of it visible since it looked like an underwater plant.
I’m seeking out opportunities to do life drawing so I can get a bit more attuned to gesture and anatomy. I’d ultimately like to get better at representing facial expression and body language.
If you’ve never tried figure drawing before, it’s an interesting process no matter what you think of your artistic skills. In a few ways, it moves you into a space that is contrary to how you usually interact with the world. For that alone it’s quite a mind-clearing exercise.
We’re taught not to stare. It’s a behavior we intentionally adjust in ourselves because of the way it affects others, the many different ways it can be perceived…especially by strangers. Life drawing is a situation that is a direct challenge to this. The model is (usually) someone you don’t know that has given you permission to look as much as you need to, with no further relationship or obligation. It’s up to you what happens then, and what approach you take to understanding their particular truth.
In the first life drawing class I took, our teacher introduced the model, and after describing the structure of the class, said that we weren’t going to draw yet. For the first pose, we were simply going to look. The model disrobed and adopted the first pose, and we spend 5 minutes in near silence except for the occasional direction of our teacher about things to observe. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a very long time to just look. It’s long enough to get past the initial shock or titillation of seeing someone naked, past the self-conciousness of looking, past any fleeting feelings, judgments, or comparisons that could come up. It’s just not possible to hold onto them.
It’s similar to meditation, though instead of making the space for stillness or clarity, it makes a space for curiosity. I’ll try to figure out which muscles are tensed to support weight. I’ll wonder about the bumps revealed by highlights or shadows, and whether those are bones, or muscle, or skin. I’ll follow the curves and how they connect. I’ll look at the whorls and patterns of hair. I’ll think about what the pose itself seems to communicate.
Just as hard as it can be not to stare at something interesting, it can be equally hard to make yourself draw what you’re actually seeing. Your brain says “leg” and has an idea of what a leg should look like. If you’re drawing what you know a leg to look like, you’ll miss learning about the qualities of it that go beyond your current understanding.
Interesting things happen when you pretend you aren’t drawing a particular thing. You can bounce between different modes of seeing: seeing edges, seeing volume, seeing shapes, or the negative space around it, or just the highlights or the shadows, or just a color. You can imagine what would happen if the model shifts balance. You can see the whole pose as if the model were a stack of shapes, or just the skeleton.
So…lest you think it’s mostly about embracing nudity and waxing philosophic about ways to see, there’s a mechanical aspect to the progression of these drawing exercises too. These sessions usually start with extremely short poses – just a minute or two each – to get you capturing overall pose and gesture as quickly as possible. It loosens you up and gets you focusing on what matters most. Usually then it’ll progress to longer and longer poses. The ones I’ve been to lately have gone up to 20 minutes poses.
As I have more time to work, I’ve been trying out different methods of capturing both highlights and shadows. It’s probably a little too fussy as I’m running out of time for some of the details…so I’m still figuring out what level of detail I can get to. I am also finding it hard to do the right thing for heads/faces, probably because I’m starting with parts of the body first (usually shoulder area); somewhat the opposite of what happens when I’m drawing from a photo.
The latest painting in this style & size – these are my husband’s parents Manny and Lena, from (yet another) great photo by Alan. I painted this during a return visit to one of Wayne’s painting classes. This time I was able to pay attention to more detail about color and technique.
This is a nursery I painted for friends Virginia and Gabe, with a Care Bears theme. The starting point: many Care Bears-themed items, which varied quite a bit in colors and were stuffed full of bears, stars, clouds, and rainbows. To unify these extremely colorful items, I suggested going for a simple sky and clouds theme with lots of little white stars and a few happy yellow stars. (which stars get faces? Did they have names? I have no idea.) This simpler background would also be easy to change into other themes, like space, Super Mario Bros, or others if they want to change it up in the future.
Similar to the approach I used for Hannah and Amanda’s jungle-themed nursery, I took a few photos and made some mockups in Photoshop to get a sense of the scale of the design, and how the layout would work with their furniture. While doing this I started messing around with accent colors and came up with the pink and yellow frames for the windows. We took a look at these mockups together, and it was a go.
I learned a few things along the way.
A brief update: here are the rest of the sketches from my little Object Oriented sketchbook (the rest are here, here, and here). I’ve got another sketchbook going now that’s a different take on objects, so I’ll catch up to that soon.
This one’s going out into the wild! It will be auctioned, to be precise. I’ve donated it to the Triton Museum in Santa Clara for their upcoming “Mad About Art” Gala Auction. All proceeds benefit the Triton for their future exhibits and events. If you want to see it in person, it will be on display April 26 – May 2, 2014; the auction itself is on Friday May 2nd.
I wanted to create something to bridge some of the figure work I’ve been doing with some of the object explorations I’ve done in drawing: isolating objects, removing them, that kind of thing. I also wanted to explore some of the positions and expressions people fall into without thinking about it…hence this once, tapping on the phone that’s not there. Or perhaps making a point?
I modified my technique in a few ways on this one:
I painted this one straight from the photo reference – no manipulation here. I posed with my phone, which Alan extracted before he took the photo. And, the pixelated shirt (“The DaVinci Code”) is from San Jose’s own Halloway.
This one is a milestone to me because it’s the first time I’ve started a painting knowing I’d probably never see the original again in person, assuming it sells. That’s a distinctly different feeling than creating art for myself, friends, or family, and feels like it’s going to the next level after a long time dabbling in a lot of different stuff. If you’re reading this after seeing it at the Triton, kudos to you for looking up more info about it, and I hope you find a bit of the backstory interesting.
This one is for friends Ted and Claire who live in Colorado, land of extremely variable weather. They wanted a painting that reflected some of the color and variety they see on a daily basis. After consulting with them about what they liked, I went through a few rounds of Photoshop mockups of possibilities. The combination of these large clouds with a hint of reddish mountains won out.
I decided to make a triptych out of it rather than use one large canvas. Since these were considerably bigger canvases than I could paint on the table I usually use, I painted them propped against my closet.
The mountains came together right away. Probably helps that the tones mostly matched the base layers of yellow ochre and burnt sienna. They were so fast and natural to paint that it made me think of Bob Ross. He must have made some happy little mountains for all of those happy little trees to be around.
The clouds involved a lot of drybrushing. I end up mashing my brushes quite a bit with this, but I was pretty good about washing them immediately and they don’t seem too much worse for the wear. I skewed a little lighter on the overall look so I could focus on the subtleties in the pink and golden tones while keeping the weight of the big puffy cumulus clouds.
The progression on this one was a little odd in that it hit a stage where I was pretty happy with it early on. That’s good and bad: the good thing is that it’s motivating to see it come together right away, and the bad thing is that it can make me nervous about moving ahead and messing it up. Once I started adding in the pink tones, I could see more clearly how much more was needed. Also, on some paintings I just get a clear sense of when I’m done, like my recent tomato painting. On others, I see a point where it’s close to where I want it to be and I need to stop myself from overworking it. This was one of those.
It’s ready to go to its new home in Colorado.