My Truncated Dream

Last week I took some installation shots at the Art Aliance Gallery in Red Bank to support a grant I was writing. The early evening sun did not cooperate with my efforts to shoot the work in the window. I finally succeeded in getting at least one usable image. I couldn't use the one shown here because I caught my own reflection quite clearly superimposed over the rough-hewn wooden sculpture by Eric Von Arx called Truncated Dream. How apropos.

Composition in Primary Colors

It's been a while. I had to make a choice -- painting or blogging about not painting. Here is the fruit of my labor since February. It still needs tweaking but needed to have a little vacation from it to get some perspective.

Time Travel

Who says we can't go back in time? Artists do it all the time--we take inspiration from the work of those who have gone before us. We become retro artists. Some go back a decade while others go back centuries. Why do we look back? Because there's something missing in our own time? Because we missed something about what they did back then? Or because we miss what they did back then. There must be something to it--why else would any painter work in egg tempera? Why would photographer keep on working in film or, for that matter, use a pin-hole camera?

Sometimes, artists revisit their own work. I'm going back in time - again. My current portrait is based on a self-portrait in oil at about age 30. Why do that? For one thing, I looked a lot better then. The image was compelling--it features a really neat hat I bought in Florence--a straw boater with fruit. I've only ever worn it in paintings. This is turning out to be a composition in the primary colors--red, yellow, and blue.

The original painting depicted me sitting on our balcony in Cliffside Park, NJ. You can just make out in the background the New York City skyline--complete with Twin Towers. It was a great view. We had a clear view from the George Washington Bridge to the Verazano Bridge. Sorry for the somewhat blurry image of the early piece--its the best I can do now.


I didn't intend to revisit this painting but I had just completed Progress-Thomas and was mulling over what to do and one of the original source photos for the oil painting literally fell into my lap as I was sorting out some old files. Voila--I worked up a new head study, added in the hand and the rose by cutting and pasting images in charcoal on newsprint paper until I got the composition I wanted. After seaching through pages and pages of lace curtains in on-line catalogs, I found a challenging lace pattern for the top border and off I went. It took a few weeks to complete a finished drawing in colored pencil. While working on that, I ordered my gesso panel.


At this stage, I've put in about 45 hours in on the painting. The background is starting to fill in. I decided to lower the curtain so it slightly overlaps the hat. The head is still mostly in verdaccio--a grey-green underpainting that, when transparent layers of pinks, ochres and white are added, will approximate flesh tones. It worked in the original oil painting. It remains to be seen if I can accomplish this in egg tempera. Stay tuned.

In Between

What do painters do when they're not painting? Live. On Friday I took a day off from work and spent the day at the Morgan Library. The draw was an exhibition of an incredible illuminated manuscript--15th century Dutch--The Hours of Catherine of Cleves. More than 100 individual leaves from the unbound manuscript were on display in glass cases and in frames on the wall. The wall-mounted narrative that accompanied the miniatures and illuminations told the story of incredible contrasts--Catherine of Cleves was not a nice lady--yet she appears to have spent a lot of time praying--plus spent a lot of money on one of the most beautiful prayer aides I have ever seen.

Given my current role in the American Littoral Society, I was delighted to see the border on the suffrage to St. Ambrose illustrated with wonderfully lifelike images of mussels and crabs--a demonstration of the power of St. Ambrose's preaching to create harmony even between the worst of enemies--including the crab and the mussel upon which it preys. You can see the entire exhibit and commentary on line at the Morgan website.

An unexpected bonus was an exhibition of Renaissance drawings by Raphael, Michelangelo, and their contemporaries. How wonderful to spend time in such wonderful surroundings with no crowds. I ended the day on the 2nd floor in an exhbition about Jane Austen--her letters, handwritten manuscripts and even a brief film about her life.

The Morgan is a great place to spend a day--walking distance from Penn Station at Madison and 36th--unique and insightful changing exhibitions from its vast collections of books and drawings from all periods plus those on permanent display.


And the day was not over yet. A quick subway ride downtown and I was in MaGuire's Pub on Cliff Street. Great fish and chips, shepherds pie, and other hearty meals. Two of my sisters and my son Tom met to celebrate Tom's 23rd birthday--belatedly. Part of his present was something else I spent time working on when not painting--Back to the Future cookies--yes cookies in the shape of the famous Delorean Time Machine. I just can't seem to stop painting.

Afterward, we all took the ferry home to Atlantic Highlands and then back to Red Bank by car.

Until next time.

Going Public

You can see Progress Thomas live at the Monmouth Museum beginning Saturday, January 16. This painting has been juried into the Museum's 31st Annual Exhibition, co-sponsored by the Monmouth County Arts Council. The show runs from Jan. 16 - February 21. The opening reception is Saturday, Jan. 16 from 4 - 6 PM. All other times, there is a $7 admission fee. Check out the museum web site for times - www.monmouthmuseum.org. There are about 70 artists in the show. It was juried by Maura Lynch, Curatorial Assistant at MOMA's Department of Drawing. Hope to see you there.

Completion

So, I added the last stroke of paint to Progress Thomas just in time for the new year. The last stroke was the 9 in 09 on my signature. I haven't signed a work in a long time--just wasn't done in the 70s when I was educated.

This piece has been a struggle and a significant learning experience--not only about how to manage the egg tempera medium but about patience and faith in my ability to hang in until the end and other character building experiences. Of course, I'm totally dissatisfied with this piece. The flesh tones really annoy me and I couldn't quite get the hair to gel; however, it's time to move on.

Moving on--when to do it--has always been a big issue for me in painting. When drawing (as in a life drawing session), it's a lot easier to just get another piece of paper and start over. Any reluctance to let go of a drawing was finally cured by Mr. Graham Nickson when I attended the famed Drawing Marathon at the New York Studio School. Just erase it. Cut it up and glue another piece of paper onto it. Turn it over and start again. No problem.

A painting like this takes a bigger toll of blood, sweat, and even tears. Like the pundits have told us about health care, waiting for perfect will ensure no progress (or words to that effect). I realized that I just had to get over it and move on. I am.

You veiwers (all 2 of you) may not notice much of a difference between this final state and the last photos posted nearly a month ago. Since then I've probably put in another 60 hours--what else are weekends and vacations for? That is partly the result of the inherently slow nature of egg tempera. The other issue is that the photos aren't picking up the level of detail because I've never really mastered the digital camera. And since I chose to frame this piece with architectural elements, parallax issues still plague me. Will continue to work on that. Suggestions would be welcome.

One major change is the addition of the blind pull on the left side of the panel, something I've toyed with since very early on in the process. I even cut out a paper silhouette to see how it would look. It needed some complexity to balance the vegetation on the right side of the panel. It works.

I need to deliver this painting to an exhibition on Thursday--surprised that I made it past the juror, who was from MOMA, although she is from the drawing area so perhaps she has an affinity for this technique.

On to the next project. Happy 2010 to one and all.

Takeaways from the Met

There are only three things demanded of a painter: to see things, to feel them and to dope them out for the public. George Bellows, July 1917

These words were my major takeaway from a day spent at the Metropolitan Museum last Friday. They were posted in large type on the wall of one of the galleries housing the amazing exhibition, American Stories: Paintings of Everyday Life 1765-1915. I made a point of remembering Bellows' words because I knew a colleague of mine would have really appreciated them. I could hardly wait to find a way to share them with him--he's been in ill and not recieving visitors. That is not to be though--D. W. Bennett passed away this evening. That has left a hole in my and a lot of other people's souls. Dery was at once larger than life but humble and retiring. I think of him as the father of the environmental movement in New Jersey (and beyond). He was the heart and soul of the American Littoral Society for nearly 50 years. My feet will be leaden as I climb the stairs to the office tomorrow.

That was not the only takeaway that day. My son Tom joined me and we wandered around the galleries, checked out the baroque Christmas tree in the Medieval sculpture hall (where I usually go to draw because when the tree isn't there, neither are the crowds), and had lunch in the cafeteria. We rounded out our time together with a visit to the Vermeers and some painters of the Hudson River School in the Lehman wing.

After Tom left (he lives all the way east on 82nd Street), I spent an hour with amazing paintings of Luo Ping, an eccentric Chinese painter from the 18th century. I was delighted by his work, particularly by the album called Insects, Birds, and Beasts. These simple but elegant depictions of nature's creatures are paired with poetry written by a contemporary of Luo Ping who happened to be a well-known playwright. According to the instructive narrative provided, Luo Ping painted the images first, leaving large amounts of space for his friend to add his poems, which used nature's images to point out human foibles. Despite the space left by his artist friend, "Jiang Shiquan squeezes the inscriptions into tight blocks or improbable corners, or dangles characters like a string, or marches them at an angle like ants. The unusual placement of his inscriptions greatly enhances the album's visual appeal." (Eccentric Visions: The Worlds of Luo Ping (1733–1799)


Then it was back out into the cold--the coldest day so far this season--and back to Red Bank via two subways and the North Jersey Coast Line from Penn Station.