Tag Archives: color

First Blush of Spring

Our landscape is finally coming back to life. Each day there is something new to see as the browns and grays of mud season recede, making room for the richer hues of spring.

Spring 1

I have been watching for a solid couple of months as people who live elsewhere in the country — and world — post images on Instagram of their neighborhoods as they green up.

Spring 3

We in the upper Northeast may be the last to arrive at the party, yet there is sweet reward in the feeling of having truly earned the colors that are re-emerging after a long, hard winter of visual restraint.

Spring 2

For those of us who relish the cycle of seasons, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Spring 4

For now, our days are fluctuating between cold & rainy and warm sun, so the garden is unfolding slowly, making it possible to mark changes daily. I watch those details closely and am rewarded with a world of color in each square inch.

❖

For a dose of pure chromatic eye candy, Carl Holty’s Flowering brings the garden to the canvas. Read about him and see more of his lush work in this article in Art & Antiques.

In Stitches

While there have been other things to write about in my last several posts, I’ve still been busy with the stitched portrait I began a month ago. It’s time to bring you up to speed with my progress so far.

The eyes ground everything else.

As predicted, seismic changes are taking place as I feel my way along in the proverbial dark. Most notably the initial white stitching has been/is being replaced with threads of color. In some ways, it’s much easier to make a “reverse” image of white on a dark ground than it is to work “positively” on a dark area. As I wrote in a recent Instagram post, there’s a reason why people often begin with a light background.

The depth brought out with color made it a no-brainer decision to remove the rest of the white stitching.

With each step forward, I can see how heavily I am leaning on lessons learned through drawing, especially from my weekly life-drawing sessions. Watching form and pattern work together as equals is incentive to see what will happen next. And color almost seems to have become its own dimension, nursing other important lessons.

Even though the colors aren’t what you might call “natural”, I think they are what breathe life into the figure.

I am making a conscious decision to leave some areas un-stitched, letting one’s eyes and brain fill in the blanks. Doing so calls attention to the piece’s “stitch-iness”, and serves my aim to direct your eye back and forth between the image and the surface. Right now I am mulling over how to treat the background — exactly how much I will work and how much will be left alone. It should support the subject without distracting from the lovely fluctuations in color created via the dye process.

This appears at a weird angle because of the way my frame was tilted when I took the picture. The shadow of the hand helps to better define the face. If you look closely, you can see how I changed that shadow from the previous image. Also, the lips have been reworked and toned down.

So, there is still plenty to do, but it’s coming along.

Each new section covered pulls out the image more.

When drawing from life, I find I’m most interested in composing my drawings so that they include more than just the bust of the model. A more complete figure set within its background offers additional opportunities to play off some of the formal considerations I enjoy so much, whereas working with just the head and shoulders presents an entirely different set of concerns. This piece is an interesting stretch for me.

Can you see the area where I removed some stitches? Only a dozen or so stitches taken out makes such a huge difference.

I’m curious about your thoughts. In general, what is your impression of portraits of people you don’t know? Is there enough to draw you in and hold your attention? Or do you find you’re more attracted to images of people who hold specific significance for you in one way or another?

❖

I’m always interested in etymological tidbits. When choosing the title for this post I couldn’t resist looking up the history of the idiom “in stitches”. So much invariably comes back to Shakespeare.

in stitches laughing uncontrollably. informal
Stitch, in the sense of ‘a sudden localized jabbing pain’, such as might be caused by a needle, is recorded in Old English. It is now generally used of a muscle spasm in the side caused especially by exertion. Shakespeare seems to have been the first to describe stitches brought on by laughter; in Twelfth Night (1601) Maria invites her fellow conspirators to observe the lovelorn Malvolio with the words: ‘If you…will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me’.

~ from thefreedictionary.com

❖

And, to underline the general theme of this post, check out this very silly link. It will leave you in stitches…

L’Arte di Firenze

This is a post of images, so get yourself a drink of choice and settle in.

When we last visited Italy a dozen years ago, our days revolved around its magnificent sights, its food, wine, and the camaraderie of our traveling companions. This time around included all of the same, yet with the distinct benefit of also being able to devote a large chunk of time on our own, immersed in the artistic treasure trove that is Florence.

Despite factors being such that we visited during peak tourist season, crowds never really seemed to be an issue — the only time we had to wait in line was to get into the Uffizi, and even then for only about 20 minutes. I mostly credit that ease to having the Firenze card which allows easy and swift access to most museums and sites. Keep it in mind if you’re planning a trip in the future.

Now for a bit of armchair travel…here is a taste of the art of Florence and Ravenna as I saw it, divided into digestible sections. As you can see, those divisions are somewhat arbitrary as they all seem to overlap in one way or another. Such is the beauty of art.

Pattern

Basilica di San Lorenzo This cathedral’s relatively stark (certainly in comparison with the Duomo) facade is heightened by its stonework relief in tandem with the sun.

Baptistry of San Giovanni Marble flooring

Domus dei Tappeti di Pietra (Domus of the Stone Carpets) This important archeological project in Ravenna unearthed a complex of buildings dating back to the Roman Republic through Byzantine times, including a small palace where every floor was covered with marble mosaics. After being restored, the ‘carpets’ of stone were placed back to their original collocation in an underground room that can be entered from the Church of Sant’Eufemia.

Palazzo Vecchio ceiling

Color

Mauseleum Galla Placidia, Ravenna Low light made photographing these stunning glass mosaics incredibly challenging. I think my husband did an admirable job here. All “windows” were filled with alabaster, an example of which you can see on the left side of this picture, with the figure almost pointing to it à la Carol Merrill. A close-up below.

Alabaster window panel within Mauseleum Galla Placidia

On the more contemporary side, the colors inside this closed shop drew me like a magnet.

Street Art

I read about Clet Abraham before we left, so had my eyes peeled for his street art from the get-go. We weren’t disappointed. You can follow him on instagram @cletabraham

Another Abraham piece – photo courtesy of my husband

Even Michelangelo made street art … or at least that’s the legend about this carved portrait on the front wall of the Palazzo Vecchio. I read several stories about it: Popular urban legend has it that it was Michelangelo Buonarroti who created the portrait after taking on a bet that he would be able to do it with his back turned towards the wall, without looking at what he was doing. Another story tells how Michelangelo passed the Palazzo Vecchio one day and under the Loggia dei Lanzi he spotted a man in the pillory who owed him money. He asked the guard who was watching the unfortunate for how much longer the punishment would last and the guard answered: “Not long enough”. To make sure that the Florentine people would remember the criminal for a long time, he chiseled the man’s face on the wall of Palazzo Vecchio.

Once we began noticing them, these images of classical figures with swim masks cropped up all over, and not just in Florence. I was able to find this interview with the anonymous artist.

Humanity

Portrait of an Old Man, last quarter of the 15th century, Fresco on tile. Attribution swings between Filippino Lippi and Domenico Ghirlandaio. Despite his attire, this man looks so contemporary to me, the warmth of his skin tones and kindly eyes speak across the centuries.

Alexander Calder We came across two exhibits in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi that were a total surprise, and happily so. This wire sculpture of Alexander Calder’s, not unlike the facade of San Lorenzo, was dependent on shadow for full effect.

Self-Portrait of Sofonisba Anguissola, 1552-3. In light of Reclamation, the ongoing exhibit at the Helen Day Art Center, which I wrote about here, it was so lovely to see a female painter among the sea of male artists at the Uffizi. Anguissola’s father supported her passion for painting, as well as that of her four sisters who were also painters.

Pang Maokun, “Salotto di Diego Velasquez”, 2017 The other surprise exhibition at the Palazzo Medici Riccardi was a series of paintings by Chinese artist Pang Maokun. His sense of humor, weaving traditional references with a contemporary twist, is delightful.

Pang Maokun, “Dama con l’ermellino”, 2017. If this piece looks vaguely familiar, your memory isn’t fooling you. Here’s a link to da Vinci’s original.

Drawing

Pang Maokun. It was so interesting to see this series of drawings, copies of master works combined with contemporary portraits, set in pairs, and hung so that if you stood to the right only the contemporary portraits were visible, while standing to the left revealed only the copies.

Pang Maokun. Another wonderful drawing of facility and humor.

Alexander Calder This sketch outlines Calder’s idea for a poster announcing his sculptural gift “Teodelapio” to the city of Spoleto.

It’s humbling to include these, but a section on drawing wouldn’t be complete without the addition of several of my sketches, made along the way.

Plaza Santo Spirito ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 10 x 8 inches, Pen and colored pencil. Lunchtime at an osteria before heading to Capella Brancacci to see the famed frescoes by Masolino da Panacale, Masaccio, and Filippino Lippi

Kidnapping of the Sabine Women by Giambologna, Loggia dei Lanzi ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 8 x 5 inches, Pen and colored pencil. There aren’t words to express the experience of sketching one of the world’s most famous sculptures from an outdoor cafe, in one of the world’s most iconic places (Piazza della Signoria), while sipping a Campari soda.

Textiles

The Palazzo Medici Riccardi had rooms filled with tapestries. They were huge and so finely woven that it is hard to imagine their production. Most of their colors have faded away. I think of blue as being among the most fugitive of colors, but was very interested to see that it was one of the few that remained in many of these pieces. Do any of you have an explanation? This small corner of a much larger work displays a glimmer of its former brilliance.

As the following pictures show, the ecclesiastic textiles showcased at the Opera del Duomo Museum were sumptuous and beyond imagining. These are from the 18th century.

Thinking of the strong lighting and magnifying glasses I need for my own work, I couldn’t help but feel for the eyesight of the artists who made these extraordinary pieces.

Embroidered Iris

Gozzoli’s Procession of the Magi

I have saved the best for last. If there is one single work of art that stands out among all the many masterpieces and historical treasures we saw, it would be Benozzo Gozzoli’s Procession of the Magi in the tiny and spectacular Medici Chapel within the Palazzo Medici Riccardi. I can’t begin to do it justice with words, and am still awestruck by the fact that we had this little jewel box all to ourselves, left to marvel at its vibrant colors and striking details in peace and quiet.

Procession of the Magi, Benozzo Gozzoli, Medici Chapel 1459-61

This is one section that I could get close enough to for a detail shot. I have lightened this image hoping to make it clearer for you to see. I was amazed by the glazes and layers of color, and the ability to follow the ancient brushstrokes.

The glory of these paintings doesn’t begin to translate through my photos. The gold glimmers and the landscape seems to breathe with the life of its flora and fauna. Each person is an individual portrait with personality, cheeks glowing with life. There are no windows. Imagine the wonder of sitting in this room in flickering candlelight.

Please, take the time to read more and to see much better images (the frescos are so high up, there was no way to get a photo that isn’t distorted), through this information page on the Traveling in Tuscany website.

To sum it up, if there is one word to best describe the sights of our week, it would have to be “rich”. And I’ll just leave it at that.

❖

And I can’t let you go without mentioning that I just installed my exhibit “Being Home” at The Kendal Gallery of Kendal at Hanover, 80 Lyme Road, Hanover, NH. The show is open daily and will be up through the month of August. I hope you might consider stopping in should you be near there.

3 Pears

I have been waiting to share this piece until it was close to finished, figuring it might be more interesting to see its progression all at once, rather than bit by bit. This has required getting in the habit of taking a photo at the end of each work session but, in addition to not paying close attention to the quality of light for these shots, there were of course days when I forgot to take the picture. Apologies. Still, I think the following images will give you a general idea of how this piece has evolved.

As you may remember from this post, my goal is that the sketches I’ve been doing lately provide a jumping-off point for new work, rather than remaining an end-vision. But what is the point if the resulting work is just a direct translation of the drawing? My objective is to push the unique qualities of textiles and thread in such a way that they convey their own unique voice, leaving the viewer with a sense that they understand how continuing the idea in another medium propels the initial concept just that much further. Well, at least that’s my goal.

Pears-1

I began breaking up the image space by outlining areas with a washable marker. Afterward, I basted along those lines to give myself a permanent record, knowing the marker’s ink would disappear once moistened with a layer of paint.

Working on fabric is different from working on paper in that pigment will bleed into adjacent areas despite taking care not to cross any lines. But I discovered that painter’s tape can work just as well as it does on a wall to keep the textile paint from seeping into zones where I didn’t want it to go.

Once the background paint was set and the embroidery begun, I started to wonder if I could further break up the space by adding a layer of dyed silk organza over part of the piece. I like the general concept, but found that in this particular instance it faded the color behind it too much and somehow worked at cross-purposes against what I was trying to accomplish. I will have to figure out a way to investigate that idea in the future.

Areas of color were laid in with stitching to describe the pears, but my attempt to define their form simply through a change in stitch direction wasn’t as successful as I had wished. I began to layer stitches over stitches which, similar to crosshatching with pen and ink, created a more modeled effect.

What resulted was the happy discovery that the under-stitches, paired with different colored stitches on top, lend a depth of tone much the way an underpainting will affect the layers of paint above it.

The definition of the stems and the shadows beneath the pears begin to pull the image together. Meanwhile, I can also begin to see how the interaction between varying types of stitching starts to hit the sweet spot of finding a way to push textural effects beyond what I can achieve with a pen.

Working back and forth while trying to obscure the lines between image and framing, foreground and background, is where the color and pattern of the stitched marks begin to show the strength of their voice.

Ultimately, I had the nagging feeling that the vertical marks defining the surface the pears are sitting upon (see above), were too distracting — both visually and texturally. My critique group agreed.

I am much happier now that those stitches have been removed.

I am going to let this piece sit for a bit, just to see how it settles with me. It very well may be finished – or there may be a few minor tweaks left to make. Either way, I am definitely getting ready to move on with some good lessons under my belt.

Unexpected Gifts

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas can be a bit of a scramble. However, two things brought me an extra measure of cheer this week, lifting me above my to-do lists.

First, this interview with Joy Spontak in the December issue of the Across Roads Center for the Arts newsletter (conducted and transcribed by my multi-talented friend, Adrianna Benson). The following quote from the interview resonated with the way I like to work too, and I love the notion that Joy consciously uses this approach outside her studio as well:

“One of the things I’ve learned about my own process is that it is a conversation between you and whatever (piece) you are doing. You do something to it, it suggests something to you, and you have to think about it to move on with the piece/process. Thinking about how you’ll work this process; feeling, changing, working it past how you originally intended it, because things change. I’ve tried to apply this process to my life.”

Her point coincides nicely with one of the books I’m reading now: Breaking the Rules of Watercolor by Shirley Trevena. Trevena stresses that she prefers to leave her options open while she paints. To paraphrase, she found that “by only half-painting objects or leaving white space” she could postpone decisions, often finding that she is rewarded by holding back. What she leaves out can end up becoming as interesting as the areas she has painted, in essence making the finished work greater than the sum of its parts.

The other completely unexpected treat this week is that my ‘Tres Chic’ amaryllis is blooming… again. When bringing my houseplants inside for the winter in early October, I discovered a bonus: two of my amaryllises had formed new flower buds while they were still out on the porch. They bloomed in mid-October so I figured they were finished. But now they are both going for a second showing, an unexpected and welcome gift during a dark and wet November week.

Do any of you know how these plants managed to get in their dormant time without an extended period of darkness? (I have 3 others that seem to be following a more normal schedule). I guess the cooler temps must have done the trick, but whatever the explanation, I’m grateful for the burst of color.

A Salute to November

There are many reasons I’m happy we live in Vermont, but a big one is that I’m grateful to have landed where each month is distinct from all the others. Asserted through our weather, the colors that surround us, and the resulting way we move through our days, this reliable sense of change within each year makes me feel grounded.

In a nod to yesterday’s celebration, I think the monthly diversity that makes up a calendar year could be likened to the mixed bag of personalities that surround any family’s Thanksgiving table. Each 30-day period possesses its own strengths and weaknesses but, due to its individuality, occupies a place that no other could fill and would be sorely missed if absent.

Bittersweet ©2015 Elizabeth Fram Bittersweet from my brother and sister-in-law’s garden is a fall treat. It adds a welcome visual spark via color, shape, and shadows — both inside and outside of the house.

That said, I have become very fond of the month of November. Pared down to essentials, it provides a crisp beauty and a sense of quiet following the exuberance of October’s visual fire and summer’s lushness. With the leaves now down, one can fully appreciate the beautiful structure of the trees and shrubs, which remains hidden for so much of the year and is now highlighted by the dramatic light and stark shadows cast by a sun sitting lower in the sky. Looking up through a screen of silhouetted tree branches to see twilight’s Prussian blue sky with a blush of rose, often accented with an evening star, takes my breath away.

Although literature tends to paint it as bleak, I think November has a lot to offer us visually and internally as we bundle up in preparation for winter. I find this time of year particularly inspiring artistically. Influenced by what I see outside, my brain feels less cluttered and more open. The garden has finally been put to bed and inclement weather makes being in the studio a welcome refuge.

I hope, now that the Thanksgiving cooking is behind you, you can put your feet up and relax this weekend. If possible, treat yourself to the visual inspiration of Geninne Zlatkis’ Instagram site. The farther you scroll, the more caught up you will become. A new Mexico painter, she takes stunning photographs of her surroundings, elevating the everyday to a new level of color, arrangement & detail — elements near and dear to my own heart. Enjoy!

❖

This week marks the 52nd post to this blog; a full year of weekly ideas and conversation. I’ve learned more from this endeavor than I ever would have guessed, and am grateful to you for your comments, encouragement, insight and most of all for continuing to read. Here’s to moving forward…

Moving Right Along

The “ice pieces” are finished and stretched; I’m still deciding about framing.

It somehow seems fitting to get these two sewn up for good (pun intended) in tandem with the disappearance of the last patches of snow and ice that I see on my daily walks with Lola in our woods. I’m more than ready to leave the restraint of February behind, and to dive into the color of Spring and the coming months.

But looking out my studio window, you can see we’ve still got a way to go. In fact, it’s been very soggy & gray this week, so it seemed like the perfect time to make an exercise out of my craving for color.

It can be quite a challenge (or perhaps foolhardy) to forge ahead without much forethought, and you can see that I am doing just that — with a vengeance. I mixed a dye-bath of Goldenrod and Pumpkin, with the finished result coming pretty close to Naples Yellow, Cadmium Yellow Deep and Cadmium Orange.

That was the easy part. So much yellow…where do I go from here? I have to figure out a way to balance color and the various means of applying it (paint, thread, & more dye) to offset and harmonize with this rather bold beginning. Oh, and also to pull it all together within a cohesive image/composition.

I have some ideas, but the first step is to consult this wonderful little book, The Colour Mixing Handbook which I have come to consider one of my most trusty guides. It suggests in its introduction that you use it “as a handy reference when you want to know how to mix a specific colour, or as a catalogue of inspiration when seeking ideas to try in your work”.

I’ll be doing just that.

PS: I’ll also be keeping two of my favorite quotes in mind:

“Don’t wait for inspiration. It comes while one is working.” – Henri Matisse

“Inspiration is for amateurs–the rest of us just show up and get to work.” – Chuck Close

The Essence of Spring

Color is returning to our landscape as the snow slowly melts and evaporates. It’s a lift for my spirit to see the vibrant shades of green and red that quickly reappear after having been buried for such a long time. There is much to see and absorb as the season changes.

Red-barked dogwood, moss and lichen

Contrasted with the earthy shades of stones that have just emerged from under the snow, the vivid moss that survived through months of subzero temps is a wonder in both its color and its resilient softness.

Stones and moss

With the remaining snow as a backdrop, textures become more noticeable and appreciated.

White Pine

The shadows plants cast against the smooth surface of rocks create interesting abstract patterns. I can’t help but think of arashi shibori (wrapped resist).

Shadows on Stone

Arashi Shibori

Wide swaths of white still cover large portions of the garden, offering a counterpoint and an opportunity to look at individual features differently than during the rest of the year. It’s easier to frame interesting compositions because everything is still pared down to essentials. Variations of tone carry new weight in their subtlety.

The areas of “empty” space created by the remaining snow, offer a compelling contrast to these characteristics, simultaneously creating both weight and breathing room. And because color is just reemerging, there is a sense of promise that is missing during late fall and winter.

Courtyard Garden

Seeing my yard and garden in this way reminds me of the visual elements of Japanese gardens that I find so irresistible. Spring calls attention to the essence of the garden. It provides a chance to appreciate the intrinsic nature of plants through their inherent structure and their understated textural variations that aren’t as easy to see once their leaves and the grass have filled in. Irregularities that will become hidden once the beds are back in full bloom, are now their pride.

All of these elements carry strong suggestions for new work. I don’t think of myself as a landscape artist, but there’s no denying that my surroundings have a strong effect and influence on my thought process. The ice pieces I began in February are mostly finished and it’s high time to leave the winter months behind and to begin to concentrate on what’s to come.

❖

PS: The photos above were taken yesterday, the post written right afterward. This is what we awoke to this morning.

It looks like I will have more chances to enjoy the essence of spring…proving once again the Power of Persistence.

February’s Self-Restraint

Last week I began the first stages of a couple of smaller pieces, looking forward to the learning curve that seems to come more rapidly when working in series and the pieces aren’t (hopefully) as time consuming to complete.

Winter Palette

I have been thinking about ice and snow – big surprise! – and the gentle depth of tones to be found in each. I love the pared down beauty at this time of year and watching for the subtle changes of color that take place in the landscape.

The winds were fierce on our hill earlier this week, leaving behind sculpted piles of snow that remind me of Isamu Noguchi’s work. The rounded forms seem proudly self-possessed, nestled comfortably within their environment. They have carved edges that are clearly defined but smooth enough to convey very subtle value changes. The effect is lovely.

So — how do I transcribe this idea surrounding winter’s visual restraint without being literal? These studies will not be landscapes, but I hope that they will tell part of that greater story. My thoughts revolve around the dissection of the landscape into basic elements; a process of subtraction that distills an image into its essence, with the idea of evoking memory and mood rather than portraying an actual place.

I recently came across this quote by painter Gerhard Richter which seems to cut to the core of the way I think about existing within my surroundings and the search for a way to express the emotional connection that results.

“Our connectedness to nature and our wish to commemorate life and our place in the universe compels us to describe our physical surroundings and, in doing so, ourselves. Landscape’s compositional and spiritual cues also contain the vital seeds of abstraction and beyond.”

Here’s to the hope that these seeds can be planted and will take root despite our frigid temps.

…

And to continue with the idea of subtlety and understatement: let me share with you the beautiful photographs of Scott Peterman – a master of the restrained palette. Don’t miss this slideshow of his photographs of ice houses!