Working Quick, Working Small

It's been so long since my last posting!  I just took on a new position and have been wrapped up in learning a new environment, a new staff and new communities. But today on a quiet, chilly gray Sunday, I decided I needed to do some catching up --

Is this my "Blue" phase? Not sure but this winter seemed to bring out blues in a variety of hues and values. For Wassily Kandinsky, blue was the color of spirituality: the darker the blue, the more it awakened human desire for the eternal (On the Spiritual in Art).  Kandinsky also developed a theory of geometric figures and their relationships, claiming that the circle was the most peaceful shape and represented the human soul.

Circular Thinking

acrylic on paper, 6" x 8" 

 mat opening of 3.5" x 5.5"; 8"x10"

Perhaps that helps explain the prevalence of blue -- the need to keep calm, to focus on serenity amidst a chaotic period of life.  I found I had to work quickly, sometimes just on a smaller scale; otherwise, I'd never had done anything. When going through interviews and waiting to hear the results, it was hard to concentrate on anything else. The creative life was shoved off to the side; not a good thing, but I had no choice. So these mini-works were about all I could handle.

Racing the Storms

oil pastel on bristol paper

3" x 5"

And I find that as I look back over these paintings and sketches, I like what came through -- nothing belabored, heavy and dull -- at least, in my opinion. The funny thing is that I have so many more that I unearthed from the piles stacked on the shelves or in portfolio bags -- pieces of larger paintings that just didn't make the grade, that I salvaged by cutting up and matting.

Ghost Barn

watercolor and pastel on Cartiera Magnani paper

6" x  6"

Why do larger paintings sometimes not work while the smaller bits do?   I'm not sure -- perhaps the brain can only take in and register pieces of a whole. Or is it that the artist is truly working on several paintings within the larger one?  Is it the push-pull between the right-brain and left-brain processes that seem to create this phenomenon?

Waterfall

6" x 8", acrylic on Yupo paper

matted to 8"x10" with 3.5"x5.5" opening

And then there is the color, again pushing through, insisting on a presence whether you want it there or not. Working quickly, working smaller -- spontaneity, process over detail -- swift movements that evoke a kinetic energy that inevitably calms . . .

Chihuly, Sunflowers and Damp New England

Chihuly Drawing Wall

Sunflowers
9 x 12
acrylic, oil pastel and pastel

After seven weeks of (almost) continuous rain and damp, I require a BIG dose of color! Lots of color! In going over some of my photos from a trip to San Francisco last autumn to visit my brother, I found some he had taken at the Chihuly exhibit at the DeYoung Museum. This is one I located on the web, very similar. These works (most on paper, I believe) are his preliminary drawings done in acrylics as studies for his glass sculptures, and it was an amazing experience to stand in front of this wall that probably measured 35' long and about 18' high -- an artist's Wailing Wall!

A couple of months later, in the dead of winter, I painted my sunflowers, my soul craving bright hot colors. I began with acrylics and then added layers and staccato touches of oil pastel and pastels. It was one of the first times I really let loose, just trying to get to that point where the colors were alive, almost edible.

Well, after floods here where I work, slopping mops and throwing out drowned materials, I did this blog entry to share another bright spot at the end of a very damp and dreary week -- enjoy!!!

Evoking the Intangible in Art

Curve of the Wind
8.5" x 11"
watercolor, wax, oil pastel & pastel

How do we evoke the intangible in art, in painting or drawing, in oils or watercolor? How do we capture an emotion, such as yearning or despair? Art is such a silent language. It seems simpler in writing or poetry, even in music. I realize I'm simplifying drastically, but still . . .

With this watercolor/mixed media painting, I was consciously going for that free-spirited thing -- outside the window early summer had erupted and I believe the season persuaded my choice of colors and of the large, scrawled curving lines and marks. How could it not?

I was experimenting with the use of wax crayons and oil pastels, as well as soft pastels in combination with the watecolors, beforehand and while wet.

It was difficult to "control" what was occuring, but that was my intent -- to allow the materials and mediums to show me the way, to guide me and surprise me.

This painting is truly a celebration of the season:

Warm summer breezes
whip my hair
the colors of birdsong spin
through the trees

Rainy Art Day

"Burst of Sunflowers"

11" x 9"
watercolor, oil pastel and pastel

I thought this watercolor painting of sunflowers would brighten things up a bit here in blogland -- so much energy and color! It's been raining here in New England, on and off, for weeks now. 2 or 3 days of sun and warmth, then a week of clouds, wet and cold. Everyone is wondering where summer is. Hard to believe Summer Solstice is only 2 weeks away.

This painting, also a watercolor with oil pastel marks, is probably more indicative of our current weather situation, although I envisioned it as a night scene in the dunes --

"Moon Walk in the Dunes"

10.75" x 10.75"
watercolor, oil pastel

It's interesting how the use of color can either be reflective of our mood, the environment/weather or can convey, without a word, these sensibilities.

Art is truly the silent language among peoples and across time. I liken it to poetry and especially haiku. Laden with potency in such a small space on a blank paper or canvas. Nuances must be traced and interpreted slowly, with care.

At least sometimes -- when viewing the Sunflowers above, I'm sure the response time is much quicker and immediate, mainly because of the color. It's bodacious and bold. It must be because a sunflower's life is short but potent, filled with hundreds of seeds soaking up that sunlight.

While sand dunes are quiet. They slumber by the sea, inviting slow walks and soft caresses behind sea grass, especially if those walks are taken with a partner at night! So these colors are muted with open spaces interspersed throughout the painting, places for the eye to rest, just like those lovers.

Ah, I wax poetic! I wonder if I could write an haiku about these two artworks? I'll be back . . . !

A New Slant in Artwork

"Observers"

11" x 9.75" on paper
mixed media

Sometimes we just need to move away from the familiar and explore another path, use another medium, a different tool just to shake things up a bit.

I've tried working abstractly in the past but mainly in oils on canvas. Somehow it never truly seemed to work, to feel good.

So this time I pulled out the acrylics, oil pastels and pastels and watercolor papers in the hopes that I could move past that sense of holding back, of trying to be "a serious painter."

I worked on about 6 or 7 paintings that day, all on paper and all some form of mixed media. I found myself losing my sense of time. Before I knew it, it was late afternoon. I went upstairs and had some coffee on the deck, then went back to look at what I had scattered throughout the studio space.

I liked it. Some were funky pieces of just java mugs and teapots with attitudes; some were bursts of summer flowers from shots of my garden last year. This particular one stood out as different and where it came from, I couldn't tell you.

I've always been fascinated by works of the abstracted figure or nude, from Matisse's odalisques to David Hockney's earlier paintings. But if I tried to do a portrait, I usually ended up frustrated.

Maybe I've turned a corner here . . . who knows? But I know one thing: that working freely with the acrylics, watercolors and pastels on large and lovely pieces of paper seemed to allow me the freedom to loosen up, to throw caution to the wind.

I liked that feeling. I must remember that.

Miniature Art continued . . .

"Garden Window"
3" x 4.5"
oil pastel

Another diminutive piece to add -- of course, there are others but my time to scan is a bit strapped these days! Working with these smaller pieces has made me see things a bit differently. Now when I'm looking at a large artwork, my eye tends to drift around the image seeking out, almost wrestling out sections that create their own pictorial plane.

This weekend I was painting with watermedia on heavy weight paper -- Nujabi -- which is a coarse, handmade Japanese watercolor paper, about 200 lbs. I was trying to paint a still life. After about 4 tries and 3 hours later, I gave up in total frustration.

Why? After pondering the mess I had created, I realized that I do not like still life. I don't have still life works in the house, I just do not like that static, lifeless image staring back at me. Also, the light was rigged and the flowers were "sad" to say the least. Everything seemed to be working against me.

On Sunday I sat on the deck, soaking up the sunshine after this long winter and didn't go back inside until about 4:00pm. I dragged the dining room table up to a north window, brought out the paints again and decided to paint what I like, what I continually seek when driving, etc. -- a horizon line with a distant perspective. Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote that "a healthy eye demands a horizon" and I think he was right!

Several hours later when the light had faded, I had several small(ish) pieces done, mainly in acrylics treated as watercolor. I might go back into some with oil pastels or pastels and continue working the surface. One of my favorite artists is Helen Frankenthaler -- actually she is the best -- and was re-reading about her works on paper, many of which are acrylic with oil pastel or pastel markings, which is what sparked the re-negotiation of acrylic on Sunday.

Then, oddly enough, to come back to my point about seeking out these miniscule "paintings within paintings," I took a mat with a 2" x 3.5" opening and began moving it around the picture plane. Amazing! Within the larger paintings I could find several hidden gems, some landscapes, some more abstract. So there may be one or two larger pieces I will "trash" so as to rescue the smaller pieces that lay within.

never, ever give up . . . the paint, the surface, the marks -- all will tell (eventually) . . .

Mini Art and Close Scrutiny

Substrata
oil pastel on bristol paper
2.25" x 3.5"

It's been awhile since I last posted. Going through budget hearings and waiting for cuts, etc. at work. Not a happy time for my non-profit organization, as is so with many others.

The other night I was so tired but knew I wanted desperately to work with color, something positive, something creative, but too tired to go downstairs to my studio especially as I had a fire going in the fireplace. So I reached for a box of oil pastels, a charcoal pencil, some heavyweight bristol paper and a clipboard and sat down on the couch to scribble, sketch and scratch.

I did about 3 or 4 of these "miniworks" -- they measure no more than 2.5' x 3.5" and I envision a whole wall of minis, framed in simple 8x10 black frames. I think this small scale works on several levels: their size forces one to pause, they invite close scrutiny, a sense of intimacy with the viewer.

Also, if I screw up, no great loss -- just start another one. They also allow one to react on a more visceral level, not intellectualizing too much. I'm also liking the richness and impasto-like quality of the oil pastels. They are immediate and easy to use. I have oil sticks, too, but have not really played with those yet, so must try that. I think that, mixed with Liquin, the oil sticks would be good for outdoor painting this summer, as well as the oil pastels.

If you'd like to see the others, go to my "Mini Artworks" gallery at ArtID, and I'll continue to post more as I work through this series of petite art!