Thursday, December 23, 2010
My male friends can go back to alphabetizing their Beatles collection. My middle-aged women pals will recognize this as a bottle angel—what we were making while they were building forts and playing that ugly Danelectro guitar in the family room.
She was made in 1968 or thereabouts, which is why she is wearing a chic turquoise burlap gown with cotton batting for trim. She’s bedraggled and filthy and her dress is unraveling, but she has been on our Christmas tree ever since my mom decided I was finally old enough to take care of her (I was 35 or thereabouts). This year my mom gave me her own tree angel, a delicate porcelain doll with batiste skirts that glow in the tree lights. My own bedraggled angel moves over to join the psychedelic reindeer and the blonde German Santa in the niche.
My friend Kristin Zimmermann paints portraits of sentimental things that must move along—her Kitchen-Aid mixer, her Christmas ornaments, and her Singer Featherweight sewing machine, among other things. They are delightful paintings. I’m trying to paint a small still life every day before moving on to more important things—6X8, not to take more than an hour. I think I’m going to borrow her idea for a while.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
I love October in the High Tor wildlife management area south of Canandaigua Lake. This area is full of deep ravines with waterfalls, such as this one:
You can get some unusual fall colors there, such as these pink trees:
But it is the muckland at the bottom of the lake, with its tawny reeds, that most fascinates me, and today I painted it from above.
About a decade ago, M. and I braved a driving October rain to work down among the reeds. Perched on the footings of a collapsed bridge, we tried to ignore the driving rain and wind until our paintings were literally washed off our boards. Since then, we’ve painted in a lot of stupid settings, but that remains the epitome of cold to both of us. Even painting in deep snow in a hilltop vineyard didn’t seem as cold (although M’s paint froze; a real inconvenience).
Today, we were both prepared for cold and wet. Waterproof boots, thermal underwear, rain gear, mittens. And we still couldn’t handle the 42º F driving rain. Especially when it again threatened to wash the paint off our boards.
Tomorrow is another day. Unfortunately, there’s rain on the forecast.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
(Oil, pastel, acrylic, watercolor)
This class focuses on still life as a fundamental tool for developing drawing and painting technique. It is appropriate for both beginning and advanced students. Instruction emphasizes direct painting, where paint is applied solidly rather than through glazing. For watercolor and acrylic, the emphasis is on alla prima techniques.
Uninstructed Figure Workshop—starting October 8, 2010
Friday, 1-4 PM
Model fee. Please contact me if you’re interested.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
This is a site that's intrigued me for several years. It's a creek that releases into the harbor. Nothing exotic about it, but I love the sense of mystery about what lies behind that bridge.
Boats in a tidal harbor present a dilemma: either you’re on a floating dock moving up and down with the boats, or you’re on land watching them go up and down (and compensating for the constant changes). I prefer to be on the dock. But it makes for an impressionistic painting, since floating docks are constantly rocking and rolling.
There are about a hundred paintings I could do in this location, including this wonderful stone wall.
This is at the end of my first day, about twelve hours into the painting. Frankly, the lighting scheme was more coherent at this point than in my final painting… something that happens when you paint in the same site for two days.
End of my first day painting.
And here is Bruce Bundock with his fine painting of Rye Nature Center—by a fluke hung right above my painting.
Bruce Bundock with his lovely painting of Rye Nature Center.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
30x40 inches - Oil
The Sentinel Tree (Keuka Lake)
30x40 inches - Oil
Here are my two submissions to the silent auction at Rye, NY this month. They can be bid upon long distance: contact Emilia Del Peschio at firstname.lastname@example.org or at (914) 967-0700 x33.
Both are 30X40, framed in gilt hardwood. The first is a sentimental painting for me; that’s where I spent the better part of my childhood and the years after my oldest kids were born, and that’s my (now adult) Julia on her bike in the painting. The vineyard near Keuka is one of those magical places—they grow vines on rock shingle that one can’t imagine supporting anything.
To see other work from this fine show, go here. And if you’re in the Long Island Sound region on September 24 th and 25th, come watch the artists at work.
Apple tree at Irondequoit Inn, 8X10.
Piseco Outlet in a spitting rain, 14X18.
Reed beds at Irondequoit Inn, 16X20.