After yesterday’s major migraine adding insult to a weeklong cold/flu bug, I’m grateful to be back among the living today, even if still less than 100%. It seemed like a good day to start doing some watercolor sketches of the collection of thingees I’ve saved from the summer, including pits from all my favorite stone fruits, shriveled and dried things from plants now gone, and stuff I’ve picked up on walks. These rosehips were the most recent and most colorful; all of the other stuff is in shades of brown and more about texture than color.
Since I’ve gotten used to oil painting alla prima*, it’s interesting to switch to watercolor and slow down to let sections/layers of watercolor dry before each next step. It makes for a nice rhythm and prevents that mindless paint paint paint I run into with oils. Waiting for the paint to dry gives time to step away and and then return to see what’s needed with fresh eyes and a chance to think a bit before putting down the paint.
*Alla Prima: A style of painting where the painting is done in one session while the paint is still wet. From the Italian word which literally means at all at once).
Joe Randazzo, Editor In Chief, The Onion. Ink in sketchbook, 8x6"
I’ve been sick with a doozy of a cold/flu all week and spent much of the time randomly channel surfing. When I saw the head writers from the satiric “Onion News Network” being interviewed by Charlie Rose I was struck by how each of them had such distinct and interesting characteristics that would be fun to draw.
Will Graham, Writer, The Onion. Ink in sketchbook, 8x6"
I set my TiVo to record so that I could draw them when I felt better. Finally tonight I felt well enough to sketch for a few minutes and replayed the show, setting it to pause when I found a pose I liked.
Carol Kolb, Writer, The Onion. Ink in sketchbook, 8x6"
Although initially I thought they all had such long faces, I have a feeling that the show might be recorded in a different format than my standard TV displays. They couldn’t all have such tall heads, could they?
Charlie Rose, Ink in sketchbook, 8x6
I’ve posted these in the order that I drew them. I was feeling pretty rusty with the first drawing at the top, after not holding a pen or brush all week. But I challenged myself to just start drawing with ink and let the sketches go where they would.
After a horrible week feeling really awful, it was such a pleasure to have a lull in the coughing and sneezing and enough mental bandwith to actually focus and draw.
Coffee & White Socks, 8x6", pencil sketch in sketchbook
Trying to recover from a caffeine hangover headache this morning, and completely out of coffee at home, I walked (slowly) to Peet’s for a latte and a bag of beans to replenish my supply. While I was sipping and sketching this lady, two clerks from the nearby Trader Joes sat at the table next to me and held a training session that provided an interesting behind-the-scenes look at the grocery business for the always curious (and eavesdropping) me.
They took turns reading aloud from a document contained in a bright blue cardboard folder. I learned that the average checker completes about 200 sales per day and that that number is used to compare the productivity of workers. I learned about when and why they have to declare goods unsellable and that they then donate them to food banks, including flowers.
They pondered that one for a while, trying to figure out who would actually want unsellable flowers and what they would do with them. They concluded that food banks probably don’t need flowers so they must go elsewhere. But I was thinking the flowers would be nice to brighten the homes of the needy people getting the food.
The pitcher in this painting is one of the few remaining pieces from my years as a potter, though not a favorite. I’d assumed I’d always be a potter and could always make more so didn’t worry when I sold nearly everything pre-Christmas one year. Then life changed.
I got married, had a baby (who I intended to just strap in a papoose on my back and continuing working at the wheel, up to my elbows in wet mud–Ha!) and we moved to a row house in San Francisco where I could no longer have a kiln. So that was the end of pottery, but the beginning of drawing and painting.
Below you can see the steps I took in making this painting. Although I was working live from my own still life set up, I was also following along with an excellent painting video by Don Sahli. I tried to set up a still life similar to the one he paints in the video but ate the second orange so substituted a lemon.
I’d already watched the video and had many “Aha!” moments with it and wanted to practice what I’d learned from it. This weekend I stayed in the studio instead of going out to paint plein air. I played a chapter of the video, doing that step on my canvas then played the next section. It took Don an hour to do the entire painting but it took me the whole weekend.
Temoku Pitcher & Fruit, Oil on canvas, 16×20″
Don Sahli is a wonderful teacher and painter who was the last apprentice of Russian painter Sergei Bongart. He breaks painting down to these 4 stages and I photographed those stages (above) as I went along:
Drawing;
Abstract stage (where you do 80% of the work, starting with the darkest dark and then continually ask yourself what color, value, temperature and you paint in one color shape after another);
Modeling (where you finish giving the objects a 3-dimensional appearance, delineating the planes using value, and color temperature.
Final details (adding highlights, caligraphic strokes, dark accents).
After watching the video and doing this exercise, I finally understand so many concepts that I’d read about, been taught, but had still been struggling with, especially the one illustrated below that starts the 3-dimensional appearance of the objects by finding and focusing on the dark/light, warm/cool color shapes.
*P.S. I have no financial or other interest in Don Sahli’s videos. Just wanted to share a good resource.
Who am I as an artist? What really interests me enough to spend hours painting it? Do I really like painting landscapes? Do I really like painting plein air? Do I even like looking at plein air landscape paintings?
After making 100 plein air landscape studies and only liking 2 of them, it seemed like a good time to reevaluate and those are the questions I’ve been asking myself.
Before I took up oils a year or so ago I was fascinated by details and enjoyed seeing and painting the reflections in glass, faces that told stories (human and non-human animals), the world inside a flower, urban scenes from around my quirky home town.
Then I started painting mostly plein air landscapes in oils and was told I needed to lose the details; simplify; just paint the big shapes; soften the edges, go for design and composition rather than content. But the more I simplified the less I enjoyed painting. I started to question whether I wanted to continue with oil painting and plein air painting.
Then I serendipitously discovered a book of Charles Sheeler‘s paintings at a used book store. I’d never been much interested in his work before, but when I looked at the images and started reading I was led to the answers I’d been looking for. I saw in his landscapes (mostly urban/industrial), still lifes and interior scenes a specificity, strong point of view, personality, AND great design. I saw a way I could translate what gave me joy in watercolor into my oil painting.
I realized that what interests me is the PARTICULAR, not the general; the close up, personal view that tells a story; a portrait of an object, a person or a place; not the general widescreen view as I’ve been doing.
In trying to better define my thoughts, while waiting for my train at the at the El Cerrito Plaza BART station I sketched the thumbnails at the top and bottom of this post (which can be enlarged by clicking either image). Below is a photo of the scene, though a slightly different point of view:
Photo of similar view from BART minus foreground
And here is what I discovered and wrote in my sketchbook, thumbnail by thumbnail:
1: No focus, BORING. What I’ve been doing: including every single detail from the window frame in the foreground to the cars, parking lot, city, bay, hills across the bay, and the sky.
2. A little more interesting. Focus on the Cerrito Theatre marquis sticking up with foreground and background being less important.
3. A close up view but no focal point, still boring. 3 trees. Who cares?
4. BORING. Sky mountain water. Big Fat So What!
5. Maybe… a portrait of specific trees and lamp post but still not interesting enough to bother painting.
6. Now this interests me! A person waiting, a bench, a sign, a particular tree.
Thumbnails of BART view
Now I just hope I can find a way to implement this new way of viewing and painting with oil paints. I wrote several more pages about these ideas in my sketchbook, but I’ve probably bored you enough for today. Now off to paint!
October Roses in Annie's Vinaigrette Bottle, Ink & Watercolor 8x6"
It seems like fall is a time of last chances. These might be my last roses of the year and the last chance to paint them so I couldn’t resist, even though they’re a bit stunted and scrawny. The lovely Indian summer we’re having in California has that feel of Last Chance too. Under the warm gusts of Santa Ana winds I can detect the hint of coming chill. Each peach I’ve eaten in the past month has come with the thought, “This is probably the last peach I’ll have this year.”
There’s a feeling of sweet longing and sadness that fall brings. Artist Dee Farnsworth painted the Last of the Summer Corn last month and I saw that same sense of loneliness and loss in her painting. I’m trying not to grasp after summer, resist fall or regret the coming winter. I know acceptance of what IS allows me to live in the present moment and enjoy it. I try to remember that each day is the last chance to experience that day. It will never come again.
Sorry to sound melancholic. I’m actually happy (despite the changing of the season, the terrible news in the world, a tweaked back, and losing every cent I’ve saved this year in the stock market) because my dear neighbor fixed the light over my easel today and now I can paint in good light again. Yippee!
About the painting:
I drew with my long neglected Lami Safari pen, forgetting that the Noodlers Ink isn’t completely waterproof. It seemed even less so on Arches hot press paper, smudging like crazy and then melting and bleeding into the watercolor. I do like the effect here though, the way it creates a softer line than my usual Micron Pigma pens.
I had a wonderful evening at my son Cody’s house, painting and drawing with his stepdaughter Mariah, and enjoying the delicious food his partner Jessica, cooked for us. They just moved into their first house, and did an amazing job at remodeling in a very short time, replacing floors, painting walls, completely remodeling a bathroom, and making their house a lovely home.
I brought over a set of watercolors, a set of acrylics and a sketchbook for Mariah and she couldn’t wait to get started. I wish I’d thought to take photos of the drawing she did of me and the one I did of her while Jessica cooked.
Mariah is an incredibly talented artist, with an innate sense of design and skill at drawing way beyond her young age (she’s a 4th grader). She manages to capture so much personality in her drawings. I have one she did of my sister and me on my bulletin board at work and I love to look at it.
We decided after dinner that that she should call me “Granny Jannie” — which made us all laugh and made me quite happy.
Jana by Susie Gallagher (with imagined beach embellishments) watercolor, 1/4 sheet
When my painting group met tonight we took turns modeling for each other. I put on an old bikini that I hadn’t worn in at least 15 years (and even then only to sun bathe in my own backyard).
I loved the paintings everyone did of me (above and below). It was so relaxing to pretend that I was lying on the beach (though I was really on my comfy studio window seat with a light shining on me).
From top left, clockwise, watercolors of Jana by Sharon, Judith and Lea
We set a timer for 20 minutes for each pose and listened to podcasts of PRI’s Selected Shorts. The short stories were well written and amusing and made the time pass quickly for the models. We listened to David Mean’s “The Secret Goldfish” read by Charles Keating, and “In Vino, Veritas” by Roald Dahl.
Since the other two members who modeled tonight got partially naked, I won’t say who painted or posed for the following except to say I did the pencil sketch in the middle (the rest of mine were rubbish).
If you click any of the pics below to enlarge them, you can click the title of the post to return here. You can also scroll through large versions of the pics below by clicking one and then clicking the little thumbnail image on the bottom right of the enlarged image.
When I was a young mother with a newborn babe, the house where we lived had a huge, old fig tree in the backyard. I didn’t know I liked figs then, butI loved the fig tree and so did all the birds and squirrels in the neighborhood.
My infant son and I spent many days that first summer after his birth resting, playing or crying (yes both of us) on the grass beside the tree. The tree’s sheltering, quiet grace and the broad reach of it’s branches lent me strength and helped me feel grounded during those very difficult sleepless weeks and months.
A few weeks ago I ate my first figs and fell in love with them. I was always a little scared to try them; something about their soft squishiness bothered me. But once I took that first delicious bite I realized what I’d been missing.
Now I think of figs as the oysters of the fruit family, just as I think of oysters as the peaches of the fish family. When I slide a succulent raw oyster into my mouth and bite into it, I’m immediately brought back to the happy days spent in the warm salty sea growing up in Southern California.
And now that I’ve painted these little beauties, I’m gonna go eat ’em!
Pardee Home Museum Out-Building, Ink & watercolor 8x6"
Driving by Preservation Park in downtown Oakland today I noticed this odd little structure on the grounds of the Pardee Home Museum and pulled over to sketch. I have no idea what this little building was for, but it’s in between the carriage house and the main building.
The museum is available for tours by appointment but had the nicest “Closed” sign I’ve ever seen. It says something like, “If you find yourself on our doorstep without an appointment, try phoning our office as we may be able to assist you with a tour on short notice.”
Their office must be located in the neighboring Preservation Park collection of Victorians, now homes to non-profit organizations. The Pardee Museum offers a full house tour for $5, a “Tour and Tea” for $10 (tea and scones), and more elaborate teas, with as many as eight dishes, can be combined with tours for $25 per person.
The tour and tea sounds like fun and I’m trying to think of an excuse to schedule one. There are four parlors, four bedrooms, the billiard room, the curio room, and the hallway lined with cabinets of Mrs. Pardee’s antiquities and the cupola, or tower, to admire the views.
Jana Bouc, Artist 
