L.W. Roth, The Oldest

One morning with Henry, the next with Holbein, The Younger's painting of Erasmus, painted in 1523

Erasmus must have been the
model for Scrooge. He
has a very slight smile that
looks like he doesn't
smile much. 

Erasmus's eyes are too open in my sketch, but Ellis walked into the session with his second cup of coffee and I was distracted  by talk of what goes to the cleaner, bathing suits not fitting over our bellies and what's all this junk on the couch? I told him to shove over my too small discards and take a seat. I was enjoying the  banter.  --But while chatting about nothing important,  my artist's eye was noting Holbein's elegant skin tones--tones to aspire to later in the studio.  Holbein is,  as Schmid suggested, an old master to note.  There's a lot of linear edges in this portrait done in what looks like Burnt Sienna--or Transparent Red Oxide?  The guy had a real light touch and knew how to render a curve.  If you look closely at the painting, you can see Holbein's brush strokes; they follow form. I do suspect he used glazes, wheras Todd Burroughs, my instructor on the Venetian Tecnique, does not.    Holbein used very light lines in his drawings as well as his paintings and  then some color washes. Somewhere during my Holbein observation, I changed over from a General 370something to a Berol HB. I needed to lighten up my heavy hand.  HB wasn't light enough.  I got a 3H. 

My study of Holbein's portrait of Erasmus launched a new sketch book, but there were sketches in the old one that have painting potential--in 2015

Piggyback with Brittney and JD.  JD was fine, but I cropped Brittney out of the drawing. I made such a mess of her, she needed her own study.   I also did a separate drawing of JD's hands clasped around her neck.  For that sketch, I constructed a little grid within the free hand drawing.   You use whatever tools you have to get the measurements, right.

This gal has got hypnotic eyes. 

Then Henry and Alison.

A study of how these two heads fit together done after the sketch in my last post.

Sargent's Gabriel examined by LWR. 

As I was studying a Sargent drawing this morning and trying to mimic his elegant strokes, I started to wonder why am I doing this?  Holbein's skin tones noted will  be helpful, but copying Sargent's line/mass drawings may be inhibiting my own development?  Sargent is dead.  He had an elegant touch--as did Holbein.  My touch is bolder.   I stopped trying to reproduce Sargent and began looking at the subject--his glorious hair, the proud stance, the haughty look in his eyes--and making my own marks.  We all  have artists we admire, but when it comes to putting down a mark, it's our own that counts. 

NOW WHAT ABOUT THIS GIANT MONOCHROME THAT'S GOING ON AND ON?
 Everyday, I scumble a bit more, just a bit, for my  patience runs out quickly.  Eventually, however,  this elder will finish it--I'll just be an older elder-- I'll be L.W.Roth, The Oldest!  OMG!



I am down to working out  details--the drapes, the window casing,  the arms, the view out the window--all are a matter of balancing the values and treating the edges.   I decided to do a separate study in color of  the scene out the window  the other day, but it was an alla prima wipe out. That area has to be treated as carefully as the rest of the elements.  My failure tipped me off that I've had enough painting for a while.  I am pleased with how this one is going.  It's just going to have to get there next year.

If weather permits, I'm taking it  to class tomorrow for a critique.  After that,  I'm through for the Holidays. The next paintings you'll see posted will be watercolors. They will be colorful. They will be abstract.  They will be fun. They will be free.   Have a lovely holiday season. Drive safely, have that extra glass of hooch at home--otherwise, get a cab.  Don't overdo on the Christmas cookies. Too many cookies in December spoil June. Cherish your loved ones even if they have no sense of humor and hate the reindeer sweater or the polka dot socks.  Tis the season to be jolly. Laugh and make merry.  Hugs to all and to all a good night.   Linda

 

What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

Crystal Decanters, photographed with my Nikon Coolpix L120 set on default, transferred
to the computer picture program and enhanced in Jasc Photo Album.  I should think that
all these programs must be synchronized to get the best print.
This photo is a reject. It's too painterly and not
sharp enough, but it would be fun to paint blown up ala Chuck Close .
on a backdrop of Willem DeKooning.

I've gotten myself into weeks of something totally foreign to my aesthics!  The Venetian Technique is Photographic Realism. After one class,  I know one semester will not yield one finished painting.  The Venetian Technique--translated to this week, in this decade, in this century-- is highly dependent on  photographic skills--which I have a few, but not on the level required to get a high definition reference photograph suitable for the course.  I do not own extensive Photoshop software. My camera is nice, but not over-the-top.  I'm sitting here the day after class one, hovered over my owner's manual and surfing digital photographic information online--like What's ISO? What's" White Balance?  How many pixels in high definition resolution? My homework is to come up with a subject I won't mind spending weeks or months painting and a reference photo of it that's as sharp and clear as they come.



What better reference for a monochromatic
underpainting than a black and white?
Why struggle?

Driving home yesterday, I decided a definite prerequisite for this class is a class on digital photography. The instructor offered his photographic services--he has a Minolta D7 or something; it's in my notes--and he also owns Photoshop and all of its software.  But, being the stubborn, self reliant person that I am,  I prefer to rely on myself and what I can do with what I have.  What's the sense in learning a technique that I would have to depend on others for the reference or buy a lot of fancy equipment?   

Having not taken Digital Photography and barely understanding my camera's menu.  All I can do is fool around with various simple subjects till I get a photo that will allow me to take it through the steps of the Venetian Technique.  They are very easy--actually the Venetian technique strickes me as more of a method or just a way to start a highly realistic painting. 

1. Take a high definition photograph of a subject you love so much, you will be glad to spend months painting it.  I do love my shoes, but I think that's too complicated.  I need a subject that I can set up to photograph with a dark background and one light source.

 Last night, I thought my crystal decanters might be interesting to work on for a period of time.  So I washed them (it's been ages since the last time), put together a still life set, mounted the camera to a tripod and clicked away. Then...

2. transferred the photos to computer, cropped, enhanced  and blew up in proportion to the canvas I bought--24 x 26" (small compared to my classmates'). Then rejected it. it was too complicated, as you can see. If it hadn't been,  I could have proceeded:

3. Draw a grid over the photograph.  When I've done this before, I put the photo in a cellophane sleeve and drew the grid on that--that is if I cared about the photo--if I didn't, I drew the grid directly on the photograph.  Incidently, while Richard Schmid favors alla prima or the direct method, the Venetian Technique is an indirect method. These are two techniques are total opposites. (I'm hoping I will find a way to combine the two.  The decanters would be that kind of subject).

4.  Using a 2 or 3H sharp pencil, draw a proportionate grid on the canvas. 

5.  Carefully do detailed contour drawing on the canvas. It's important to be accurate and light handed with the pencil--says me who is heavy handed and impatient.

6. When the pencil contour is finished, go over the lines with a fluid oil paint in a dark color with a number 1 sable pointer. Burnt Umbra and Ultramarine are the darkest paints on the required palette.

7.  When the drawing is completely dry, tone the canvas in preparation for the monochromatic underpainting.

8. Totally finish the underpainting so it could stand on its own if you didn't care to go further--which I may not. 

White Fountain, oil, Todd Burroughs

I see class being over sometime during the painting of the underpainting--or at best the next step when local color is laid in.  There were clues.  There were previous students who were taking the class again who had paintings in various stages of progress.  Over-sized still lifes seemed to be a favorite subject. One woman was painting a bouquet of flowers.  Dark backgrounds were the norm.
I saw one portrait, but the artist was a real beginner.  I don't understand why the canvases have to be so large. Having a practical nature, I think 16 x 20, 18 x 24 would be fine for people new to this method, but Todd said working larger makes it easier.  Could be?  But not after class and having to tote the large wet painting through the building and the parking lot.  I was surprised the association didn't have the drying facilities that the colleges do. 

So on with my quest for a simple, sharp photographic composition for my first endeavor.  The crystal decanters are way too involved. They look to be a full years work.  Todd's beautiful White Fountain took him eight months--and he knew what he was doing. 

ALSO OF INTEREST:  the return students had Kinko blowups of their photographs the size of architectural plans.  Then they also had sections blown up so they could see every detail down to the  twig on a tree.   They all seemed sane, but I'll need some proof before bringing anyone home. What have I gotten myself into?