1/19/09

Homage to Velazquez: Copying the Juan de Pareja

Copy after Velazquez's Juan de Pareja
Oil on canvas, 22 x 28 inches

Many years ago, when I first discovered that I wanted to paint portraits, I began studying the works of the Great Masters. I obtained permission and then copied a Joaquin Sorolla painting from life, not reproduction, at the Hispanic Society in New York. I copied Frans Hals at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the same way. 

There is none greater than Velazquez when it comes to portraiture. I took my cue from John Singer Sargent, who also made studies from Velazquez's work,  as have countless others.  After obtaining permission from the Metropolitan, I began to copy the Juan de Pareja, set up just a few feet away from the original. It felt very much like having a cup of coffee with Velazquez!  I've never had so much fun painting as I did that morning. Though I worked on it twice, it was copied in about 3 hours. After all, Velazquez did all the heavy lifting.

Triumphantly happy, I made plans to copy Velazquez's Supper at Emmaus
This experience was quite different, however.  I suspect the major difference was the paint used for each. 

Before leaving New Orleans to copy at the Met, I casually told an artist friend of my plans. I  knew that he was very familiar with Mr. Maroger's philosophy and thought he might offer some insights.  After he told me a little bit about it, I went around the corner to a used book store and amazingly found an original  1948 edition of Mr. Maroger's book  "The Secret Formulas and Techniques of the Masters".  My friend Paolo was so excited that I had found the book, that he offered to make some "Velazquez Medium" for me, as mentioned in Mr. Maroger's writings. A few days before I left, he handed me a small jar with an amber colored gel/solid inside. Paolo told me that it contained copper and to keep the jar capped as much as possible to prevent oxidation. He volunteered that the medium would be good for a month or two, as I remember.  He also instructed me to bring small envelopes of ground pigment- cadmium red, gold ochre, naples yellow, burnt sienna, white lead  and black. I was told to mix a small amount of medium using a palette knife with each small pile of pigment, except the white, fresh on my palette before painting each day. He suggested that I tone the canvas with flake white and a dark earth red.

It is truly a miracle that no one at the Metropolitan stopped the experiment. Today, I think it might be more difficult to bring unlabeled jars and toxic powders into the Museums galleries. Thanks to Paolo, Velazquez,  and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a very fruitful painting session transpired.

As wonderful as the experience was, I decided to try the next copy using regular Winsor and Newton oils, the finest commercially available to me. Stubbornly, I simply could not believe that any medium could make such a difference.  

As hinted at earlier, the next copy did not go well. I felt at a disadvantage, as if one arm were tied behind my back or one eye was blinded.  No matter what I tried, the viscosity of the tube paint prevented me from obtaining the same silky texture and values that more closely approximated the original painting.

As part of my renewed interest in portraiture, I plan to try the medium again. I've been reticent in the past to cook lead or verdigris, but no source of commercially available real Velazquez Medium, as described in Mr. Maroger's book, has turned up.  I've found a source for verdisgris at Kremer Pigments. On a clear, sunny day in a month or two, I plan to cook the medium outside to avoid harmful vapors. Barring explosions, I 'll post about the results.

1/17/09

Sketch of Terry



oil sketch, 12 x 9 inches
In preparation for a portrait commission, I am working on a series of oil portrait sketches to "warm up".  
Years ago, I aspired to be an oil portrait painter, but things never seemed to work out.
I painted hundreds, maybe thousands, of pastel portraits, frequently from small photos of deceased loved ones. I painted pastel portraits in shopping malls at Christmas for 5 years. From the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve, the Southland Mall  in Houma, LA became my home for 12 hours a day, after which I would retire to the Sugar Motel [read as cheap & smoky] to rest up for the next day. Typically, I painted 6 or 7 pastels from small photos a day, with a few live sittings included, for nearly a month. 
The conditions were strenuous and adverse; no wonder I gave up the idea of painting portraits!
When my son was born, I happily left that era behind. I began painting watercolors, sculpting in clay, painting oil and pastel still life and landscape. 
I'm looking forward to the commission. 
In the meantime, I'll do some 'target practice'. 
The sketch of Terry was painted quickly, in @ an hour and one half. I used a black and white photo which I had taken of a friend ten years ago.

1/14/09

Third in a Series: Doorway at Mater Dolorosa


Watercolor, 14 x 11 inches

Third in a series, the more views I paint of this church, the more comfortable I become with the architecture.  To my eye, the better watercolors have some  "swing" in them, meaning that they are not just accurate, but have feeling and poetry.

With architecture, if the drawing is inaccurate, it's difficult to be convincing. If strict accuracy is the end goal, then "feeling" or poetry can go MIA.

Pretty soon, it'll be time to move on or wait a few months before attempting this facade again.

1/9/09

Mater Dolorosa 2

watercolor, 21 x 14 inches

The struggle here was with drawing; trying to make a painting, rather than an architectural rendering. The watercolor tightened up a bit more than I was aiming for, but if I'm lucky enough to paint 10 more, the issue of tightness should resolve.


1/8/09

A simple apology

I'd like to offer my sincere apologies to recent subscribers for several posts that were published by accident.
While I am a football fan- who wouldn't be very proud of Drew Brees, duh?- my football happiness posted to the wrong blog!

Ay, Scotty, cyberspace can be mean!

Rather than delete the blog, Loving New Orleans, which is a great exercise in letting off steam about my post-cataclysmic city, I'll try in the future to be much more careful. So much for blogging late at night....

Also, as I tried to clean up Postcards, fix labels, etc., a few of the "fixed" posts re-published, even though they were from 2 years ago! OMG!!
Well, if that isn't a lesson in humility- nothing is.....

So now, with a renewed sense of my own un-tech saavyness [?] , I apologize if the posts offended, made you feel like you were in a time warp, or otherwise contributed to the spam in your mailbox.

1/6/09

Lakeview House: Needs Work



watercolor, 14 x 21 inches
I painted this on location and then put it away for some months.
After time elapsed, with a fresh eye in the studio, it was easier to see what changes were necessary.

As I worked on this painting, a neighbor came over to thank me for painting this portrait. Unfortunately, this gorgeous house remains without a family to care for it. Since the storm, the grass has been cut, but not much else has changed.
I was drawn in by the roofline and dormer windows.

1/4/09

The Technical Side: Watercolor Brushes

In every painting, the materials that the artist uses are of great importance. A great artist can overcome inferior materials, as evidenced by masterpieces such as those of Toulouse Lautrec painted on cardboard. But genius is the exception.

Using poor quality brushes in watercolor sets up a huge hurdle for the artist. Bad or inferior paper is no picnic either, but a poor brush is nearly insurmountable. The very finest watercolor brushes are made from kolinsky sable, which are from the tail hairs of either a Kolinsky weasel or sable, which traditionally live in Northern Europe from the Ural Mountains of Russia to Siberia. Due to the rarity of the material and the craftsmanship required to manufacture such brushes, prices are usually very expensive. In order to perform well, a watercolor brush generally has a substantial "belly" to hold pigment, but also must have the ability to come to and hold a point so that the artist can draw with the brush while depositing pigment over a large area. A small brush is usable for minor details, but to really paint, a large brush/ large belly is essential.The classic watercolor brush is the Winsor & Newton Series 7, number 10, which can cost upwards of $160 or more. The #12 is currently available from Jerry's Artarama for $299.

Thankfully, there are some very good alternatives to the Series 7 brushes.

Cheap Joes offers their Golden Fleece synthetic watercolor rounds at a very inexpensive price. A huge brush, the number 32, is available online for $18.29. I have painted some of my favorite watercolors with that one brush. I used it exclusively for several years. It was recommended by Milford Zornes, a wonderful painter and a National Treasure, who passed away last February at age 99.

Luxartis also manufactures a terrific kolinsky sable brush at a reasonable price. I ordered both #14 and #12 and find myself constantly reaching for their brush. Currently, a #16, large and pointy, is listed for @ $36. Prices online are quoted in the British Pound, but are easy to translate. Shipping is extra, but seemed minimal.

The last brush that I can personally recommend as both inexpensive and a very good value is the Yarka Kolinsky sable watercolor brush. While I have bought other Yarka products in the past, and been genuinely underwhelmed, their watercolor brush is exceptional. Sadly, I just noticed that Richeson will be moving the production from Russia to India and will sell the Yarka brush under their own name. To buy any of the originals before they're gone, go to Aardvarkart.

If anyone has a great brush that I've missed, please let me know and I'll include the name in a future follow-up post.

1/3/09

The House Next Door


Watercolor, 5 x 6 inches

This was painted quickly, late on a gray day. I was experimenting with laying washes, basically toning the paper, before laying in the image. Happily, I stopped before overworking it. I like the simplicity of the image.
After seeing the show of David Cox's work in New Haven, as well as the Morandi still life show at the Met, less seems like more.