Mixed Bag

Kelly in Black and White, detail,  oil & charcoal sketch,  12 x 16



Oblivion, iPad Photograph



Top book is a biography; bottom, a
collection of his paintings.

Diagnostic test in a little room off a cheerless corridor, short studio sessions tweaking this, signing off on that, reading Auerbach, Genghis Kahn, cycling the lush green hills inbetween scattered  showers and sunbeams, a mixed bag of apprehensions lightened with my fascination with art, history--what's new in the neighbors' gardens.  Suddenly free on, suddenly doubtful where to begin?  Moe Q. McGlutch you think too much! If Kelly lived here, she'd be my full time model.

 

What's The Point?  Oil, 9" x 12"

Defined his hands just enough and signed off, (as I said I would Rita).

Hot  Flash, Oil, 36" x 18"

 Maybe too colorful? Maybe too carried away? But flash references will distort color and form-- maybe that's what appealed? There was something spooky about the sick greens and obnoxious yellows.  Ellis hates it.  Asked me not to hang it. But I sort of like primitive gaudiness.  It's where I was  in 2011. Turned out, it's what I wanted in the end .  I signed it. It will hang in my office an ongoing wonder what I wanted from this.


 

Black and White Photography, A Painter's Best Tool

The Glory of  the Garden: Japanese Dogwood
A digital photograph taken with my Nikon Coolpix L120

While rain has dampened summer expectations, it has produced lush growth in the garden. The Japanese Dogwood, in particular, is enjoying the humidity and cool temperatures with a profusion of blooms. It isn't a big tree. It isn't showy. It is elegant.  Eventually,  the tree will form a roof shading the attrium entrance to my home. This is not a reference photograph. It stands on its own. In this case, nature's art surpasses any rendering I could produce.

Photographically, I do prefer black and white to color. Color distracts. With black and white, the range of the  gray scale reveals the quality of the picture.  There's a nice range of grays  in this photo.
A full range of grays in a photograph is the the mark of a good photograph.

Converting a photograph of a painting in progress to black and white is an excellent tool for artists.
To see how I was doing with If a Tree Falls, I checked it out in black and white.  I was happy to see it was coming along nicely and was nearly finished.

Check the painting against the black and white reference photograph I'm working from:

Before I got side tracked by the beauty of the Japanese Dogwood after a morning rain, I ransacked the studio again looking for Burnt Sienna oil paint and FOUND IT!  The find restored my opinion of myself.

Stay Out of Town Virginia!

Detroit Institute of Art (DIA)
I've been a member of the Founder Society since before I could vote.

The DIA's Great Hall. Our Thinker used to be in here. Now the copy welcomes
visitors outside of the main entrance to the museum on Woodward .  To the right of this great hall are the American Art
Galleries . To the left is the Medieval section where my young sons loved to play guessing games as to  who could be lying in that stone sarcophagus?

Rivera Court with its famous frescoes depicting  Detroit's Industrial Heritage. Every Friday night, there are freeconcerts
put on in this hall by local musicians.  The hall is packed. 

One of my favorite DIA paintings: John Henry Fuseli's The Nightmare. I wrote my term paper for
Art History on this painting.

The Kresge Building of The Center for Creative Studies (now known as The College of Creative Arts) where I studied sculpture, anatomy and design.
The campus is East of John R, the street that runs behind the DIA. We used to go to lunch
at the museum. The museum was home then as it is now.

College of Creative Studies Center Gallery. A place that makes my heart sing.

Satisfied with my initial drawing  done in pastel on a prepped canvas, I reached for the burnt sienna and there was none. I Gotta Crow was stopped cold. I ransacked the studio not believing I didn't have a tube of the staple color on all the paint palettes in the world, but came up with nothing. That session ended with disgust.

As did reading the newspaper and online articles this weekend.

 I was enraged over the  talk in the papers and online of selling off Detroit's museum's very fine art collection to pay Detroit's debts.  Then there was  this snobby biatch from LA (who was born in nowheresvilleas far as any biography I could find),Virginia Postrel whose derogatory remarks about my city and our art churned my stomach and  me take the fight stance.  Read about it here.

My favorite contemporary painting by an
artist whose name escapes me. With me, it's never the
creator's name that sticks, it's his/her work. 

Yes, the city is in financial trouble.  Yes, our art collection is formidable and could pay off a lot of the city's debt. But I say let the past city councils who incurred those debts work them off as indentured servants to the city they plundered , (dressed in orange coveralls of course Virginia--I know how very important fashion is to you). Charge the suburbs more for their water. Charge toll fees for the use of our expressways-- a brilliant innovation and the first in the world. Tear down the decaying Joe Lewis Arena and the Manoogian Mansion and the burned out houses in neighborhoods deserted long ago and sell parcels of  land to developers to build independent townships closer in to the beautiful downtown epicenter with its best in the world accoustics opera house, museums, music halls, theaters  and restaurants, but keep your mits off our art!   'Backwater' Detroiters  earned  every piece  we have housed, bequethed, funded, maintained, looked after all of our lives.

I took my ire out on the blog. Deleted two previous posts. I hated that Olive tree even if it did give me a couple of afternoons of free association fun. I worried that publicly voicing my decision to forget about making money with my art upset those of you who actively pursue the business end, so I deleted that text too.   I still stand by my opinion, however. Money in my art equation has always been detrimental to my productivity; the idea of having to produce art that people like to live with and can afford  freezes me up--that's why I think agents and gallery representation is important for artists like myself, an admitedly selfish Expressionist who adores exploration. While I call myself a dabbler, my tongue is in my cheek. I am anything but. Art is a major part of life--both making it and preserving it--mine, yours and particularly the 650,000 world class works in Detroit's outstanding museum originally founded in 1885, 69 years before Getty opened the front doors of his home so kids like Virginia could  get their first look at  his collection!  I'm just a wee bit pissed  at this woman who traded honest journalism for notoriety--albeit fame and fortune--via controversial prattle unsubstantuated by any research. But don't do your homework now Virginia.  Don't come to town.  You're not welcome.

In progress, a strong design, and a very complicated composition  by an artist
from a 'backwater' community which happens to own an art collection other's envy.

Note the chalk markings as I am still working out the composition and the palette. This one is going to take a while.

White Knuckle Road Trip

Road Trip #1, Digital Photograph

What is it about Memorial Day that the heavens always weep upon our heads?  In spite of all the barbeque plans, all the home gardeners planning to plant their annuals to welcome the unofficial start of summer, the weather on Memorial Day is foul. Appropriately so.

Memorial Day is a day of mourning all the brave, beautiful young men and women who sacrificed their lives in service of our country. It's a solumn occassion--and from records I've kept, always a bad weather day. So Ellis and I drove to Lansing to visit our kids. By the time we were headed home, what was an easy hour ride became a white knuckle road trip that made us rethink the road trip we had been planning  earlier in the day to Jefferson's Monticello near Charlottsville, Virginia. We thought we'd go  in September, after Labor Day when kids are back in school and tourists are fewer in number.

Road Trip #2, Digital Photograph

After just an hour in the car however, we began rethinking our plan. We were doubting our bums were up to many more hours spent sitting behind the wheel in what could be just as adverse conditions as were beating against the windshield.

The rainy ride suggested  we needed some stamina training--a few small road trips around the state plus some glute work in the gym--plus short routes.  Pulling  into the safety of our garage, we sighed relief.  Warming ourselves in front of the fire, I reviewed  the loose itinerary we had put together. It was ambitious, the itinerary of middle aged people who can stand being strapped into bucket seats for long periods, not for youngsters and oldsters who are in a rush to get there and see the sights. Route times had to be considered.
Four hours seemed okay. But could that be done?

Road Trip #3, Digital Phtograph

FORTS AND MANSIONS  ITINERARY AS IS:

Pittsburgh was the longest stretch, five hours and forty five minutes from our doorstep, but was worth the push. The city had history-- its downtown area was where the original fort the French had been two hundred and fifty nine years ago.

The Indians wanted a trading post where Fort Duquesne
 had been, but the colonists built a new Fort
next to the site and named it Pitt after Edward Pitt, the elder.
Chief Pontiac didn't take too kindly to that.

Pittsburgh, originally called Fort Duquesne by the French,  was the fort that General Braddock's British/Colonial troops went to capture in 1755, with George Washington riding along to show them the way to its location at the  Fork of the Ohio. The Fork of the Ohio is where the Alleghany river merges with the Monongahela river to form the Ohio. The British were of the opinion that the French fort was built on their territory. They wanted it gone. They didn't get their wish. The French won the confrontation. They won again in September of 1758 and tore it down, but then lost the settlement just two months later to Britian's General Forbes.  The Treaty of Easton of 1758 reduced  French alliances with the Indians.  With the Indians now siding with the British, the British took the fort.  I don't know yet if George was in on that battle or not?


From there, Gettysburg. Three hours and forty three minutes, Northeast.

Having just read  The Killing of Lincoln, I thought 'might as well.' I was curious to see this infamous, Civil War  battlefield where 51,000 Americans lost their lives in 1863 on what is now pastoral countryside.  (The total deaths in the American Civil War was 625,000, the most Americans lost in all the wars we've ever fought). I think this site is a two day visit PROVIDING I find comfortable lodgings, but that's my next task.
For now, I'm interested in the length of our routes.

Jefferson's Monticello  was just two hours and twenty six minutes South of Mount Vernon, an easy ride, but after that, I was amazed.  I couldn't find an easy way home--and I didn't want to go back the way we came.

Gettysburg Dead, actual photographic image, photographer unknown

From the look of the map, the lack of good highways between Charlottsville and Detroit, (Fort Pontchartrain du Detroit when it was a French settlement in George's time), looks like the Virginians are still a bit standoffish to Northerners. If we wanted to see new sights, Charleston, West Virginia, four hours and thirteen minutes across the Appalacian Mountain range, was our next stop.

Charlston is the capital of the only state that sededed from a Confederate State. It seceded from Virginia in 1861 to support the Union and became a state  in the Union in 1863--along with Nevada, but that's another story.

From Charlston, we'll head home through Aurora, Ohio--another four hour drive. From there, we're only three hours and thirty minutes from pulling in our driveway safe and sound and probably exhausted from the trek.

We've been to Aurora,  Ohio before. We stayed at a stable--not just any stable-- a five star stable where equestrians strut their stuff and keep their horses.  All  the rooms are suites. It's a resort sort of place where they  greet you with champagne, (by that time in this trip, well deserved), leave a basket of hot muffins on your door every morning and the turn-down service lights votive candles and scatters them about the room to delight you when you return from dinner at The Barn, which is not barnlike at all.  I think a massage maybe  available too, I hope, I hope? I have a feeling my legs will need it if we actually take this trip with 24 hours drive time. Now that we made it home from Lansing, Ellis is balking as I am dreaming.

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN IT RAINS AND RAINS AND RAINS?

Rain #2, Digital Photograph

STUDIO CLOSED!

Homespun Sunrise, digital photograph

My next charcoal? Could be.

Spring arrived this weekend and it was way too nice to spend any time indoors painting. It was deck time. It  was get out of the house into the garden and soak up the glorious rays time. It was pump up your tires and shove off  to tour the neighborhood time with hands high in the air welcoming the season.

The weekend was joyous from sunrise to sunset three days in a row.  All our lives I told Ellis the time to enjoy the weekend is whenever the weather was spectacular-- it could happen on a Tuesday, a Wednesday, a Thursday and even a Monday.  This weekend the dreariness lifted  Friday, so we made the weekend a long one and set up the patio furniture, bought the ferns and listed the new plants needed for our entrance garden. While I didn't make it out to photograph the daffs up close, I photographed a Michigan sunrise and a  colorful, wooded painting reference. I found a fine specimen of a walking stick, cut it to size, sawed off the knotches and crudely carved my name. With my sturdy staff in hand, I'm ready to explore.

A reference photo with great painting potential--minus a tree or two.

A Dawn to Jump Out of Bed, digital photograph

The glowing yellow, pink and blue of the sky is what got me running for my camera at six thirty AM to catch the sunrise. I played around  a bit digitally to bring out the details and deep colors in the lower portion. Ellis, just pouring his coffee, thought I was nuts. I knew I was energized.

HISTORY NOTE ON THIS FIFTH OF MAY:

Felice Cinco de Mayo!  The significance of this Mexcian/American holiday to the US is it is the celebration of Mexico's defeat of the French in the Battle of Puebla in 1862; the holiday is not a celebration of Mexico's independence.  By miraculously defeating the French forces, Mexico stopped the French from aiding the southern confederacy in our Civil War.  The battle also ended any further European invasions of the Americas. Viva Mexico! Check it out on Wikipedia. History is fascinating.

Saturday Afternoon

Saturday Spring, photograph by Linda W. Roth

Saturday afternoon, Spring arrived at our house.The sun stole into our yard and coaxed us out to garden. We cut back the Spirea to insure a glorious hedge of large magenta blooms come June. We cut down dead Chrysanthemum twigs and laid them atop the young plants pushing up through the ground cover. With temperatures still unpredictable, they still needed protection.  The dirt under my nails looked glamorous. The sun on my back felt wonderfully warm. Sweeping the walk beat the hell out of walking the treadmill.

I took this photograph  with my Nikon Coolpix L125, as the sun was starting to go down later in the day. I zoomed out towards the lake from a second floor window. The burgundy buds on the trees, the blue of the melting ice on the lake and the apricot strip of the far shore caught my fancy--the burgeoning of Spring energized . This will not be a reference photograph. It stands on its own. It is not color enhanced. It is cropped.

Drafting Pains

The tools that buy art supplies and employ tradesmen.

Rotring Rapidograph pens, the best for drafting fine lines, the hardest tool to keep operable, a real drafting pain.

Every time I passed, I added more paint;
the darks weren't dark enough. 

While you all have been happily painting, I've been scurrying around the house rounding up drafting equipment. A year ago t-squares, angles, templates, compasses, protractors, leads and leadholders had all been stashed or relocated.  I eventually found them all. But the worst off were my Rotring Rapidograph pens. I found them lying on their side in a drawer, horror or horrors.

They are so clogged with ink, I think they're dead. Somewhere down in the studio there's an electronic, vibrating washing machine for the pen points, but I don't care to go find it and the solution that's needed to revive my once favorite drafting tools. Tomorrow will do. Right now, wine and whining.

I did manage to paint a little--very little--in between building a swell shower in a master bath and rounding up my stuff. Every time I passed that watercolor I did the other day, I thought why can't I get it dark enough? So I would stop and add another layer of paint. Then there was Zac just lying on the breakfast room table staring at me with that hair.I noticed the blue needs cleaning up, but he'll wait. Drafting pains aside, I've settled down. This is the stuff that buys art supplies.

Dinner In Polished Stone

SOME DAYS DINNER IS MY MOST CREATIVE VENTURE

Yesterday was one of them. I did crack open the studio. I did a charcoal of JD. I did wipe it out, shut the doors and climb the stairs to the kitchen where perhaps I would be more successful?

When I have days in the studio where nothing happens, I'm thrilled to have dinner to get my mind off whatever didn't work. But on days where everything is going great and you don't want to put down your brush for fear of losing the magic, I wish I had a dinner that was made in polished stone and all I had to do was run it under water for an hour and serve.

The following photographs are what we had for dinner yesterday. Of course, aside from being sauteed, boiled, steamed, baked and photographed,  they've been enhanced and piqued in Photoshop Pro where I really have no expertise at all. I just like to fool around and hope I pick up some know-how on the way. After auto correcting, underexposing, enhancing  the colors a number of times and whatnot, I played around with special effects and liked how dinner would look in polished stone best. 

Sauteed Mushrooms

Rainbow Trout with Sauteed Mushrooms

Asparagus with Parmesan Cheese

Corn on the Cob

Rain, Rain Go Away

Afternoon Showers

Evening Downpours

Sunday I'll have a Full House And I'm Not Talking Poker

L.W.R'S PRIMER FOR PREPARING FOR HOUSE GUESTS
Wait till the last minute, then run around like crazy making the house look like nobody lives there.

No pancake pillows for my babies. Only the best from Bed Bath and Beyond.

Empty the dryer. Three days is long enough.

Empty guestroom drawers . Those jeans won't
 fit ever again . The drawers aren't magic.

Find wood glue and repair overzealous vacuum damage.

  Get rid of all the books you thought you would read while The Borgia's were on,
but stashed on top of all the others. Put Kleenex in the box for the next soppy movie.

.Kelly wants to bake her strawberry pizza.
Wash out the seasoning cabinet. Put
the Basil where she can find it.

MORE BEER!  MORE KOOL-AID!  MORE SODAS!

Tarragon mat looks better with pencil  than whatever that green was.
Glad  it came in time. Glad I'm a perfectionist who can't leave well enough alone. Kelly's gift is a go.

No knock offs here. This and that will have to wait.  But the abstract is too
busy. Tough rocks. Small stuff  for the next two weeks.

CLEAN THE STUDIO SINK!

 Figure where to hide the bar clutter then

FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE: GET A PERICURE!  


No. Wait for Erin. Young ladies love their toenails painted and nanas like their toenails painted too sitting next to young granddaugters.

Rain

Not as good as the hard copy I found after touching every photo in several Possible Reference Photo Files, but you get the picture. With the loss, I got not only the photograph, but also some tidied up storage cabinets. The photo I'm holding in my hand has more grays and very washed out violets that I could not get to come out with either camera. I think I'm going to have to do some small sketches on a section or two to work out my idea. The canvas is too large to not know exactly where I'm going.. I expect I'll be spending some time with this one too--I have a feeling it's going to be an inch by inch painting.

Photo Hunt Nil. Patrick Swayzy Thumbs Up

Churning,
Worrying,
Wondering what's next?
I couldn't find the rain.
Damn!

All I found was my Jamaica Beach. What a waste of a day! I've been through all my photo files and can't find "Rain." I wanted to start a large canvas. I've had "rain" on my mind for quite some time. The photo has got to be stuffed into a file with a different name? That's what I get for sloppiness. One more place to look, here online. I posted it once...but it's gone, gone, gone, whoa woe woe.

With  the melody playing in my head and "whoa whoa whoa" on the brain, I sidestepped to YouTube to find the Righteous Brothers singing the song I loved to dance to and sing along with on Saturday nights before designated drivers. It still makes me laugh  babe. Whoa whoa whoa .





Which lead me to: Patrick Swayzy in Dirty Dancing, an absolute bad boy hunk of a guy, and another song I loved to dance dirty to myself and still do.  Turn your volume down for this one, but do do big screen. That man was a dream to look at and watch. Talented too. Love those hips.



While my photo hunt came up nil, my walk back to the  sixties and seventies (Mad Men--where do those people live)--was quite delightful. While I twisted and shouted, the oven repair guy stopped by and silently gave me my clock and one oven  back. He'll see me next week with the new motherboard.  I guess we're dating? I guess again this evening, I'll be watching a pot.