I’m taking a bit of a respite this week to recharge and reinvigorate. But first, an update.
The portrait that I shared briefly at the end of my last post is now in its last phase. The paint work is finished and the embroidery is well underway.
First pass
I’m loving the variety of processes involved in these works – first, because there’s a certain challenge to pulling everything together, and secondly, because it’s so satisfying to see the piece materialize as each stage builds upon the one before.
In many respects this whole process is parallel to my my previous stitched-then-dyed-then-stitched work, it’s just that the scales are tipped more toward drawing/painting with much less stitching. The up side is that since these latest pieces move along so much more quickly, I can learn from, and then move on to the next piece to respond to, my mistakes – and my successes – without the huge lag time inherent in the textile works.
Happy accidents lead to fortuitous discoveries. Working on a dry run practice sheet for this section, I stumbled upon the fact that carelessly letting the paint extended outside the masked lines resulted in a flavor of batik. Hmmm, that opens the door to lots of possibilities. This is exactly the kind of discovery referred to above, which I can act on and explore more quickly because this piece is almost done.
And now my request:
I need of models for this series honoring the strength, wisdom and resilience of women of a certain age. If you (or someone you know) fit the bill, live in the central Vermont area and wouldn’t mind giving me 15-20 minutes of your time to take a quick series of head and shoulder photos of you to use as inspiration, please contact me. ehwfram@gmail.com
If you’re shy about having your picture taken, it may help to know that my painted results never turn out to be exact representations of my models – so it won’t be a portrait of you. Rather, your image would be a jumping off point. I’ve come to think of this process as something akin to literary historical fiction … based on fact, but with plenty of artistic license.
I would really like to continue with this series so thanks for considering, and I hope you’ll be in touch.
Oh – and be sure to come back next time for the full reveal of the finished piece!
I’m not sure I could ever quite do justice to the dramatic blue of the sky and circus tent stripes in Montreal a couple of weeks ago, but Winsor Newton’s Cobalt Blue Deep gave me a fighting chance.
One of the joys of living where we do is being surrounded by woodland neighbors. For the most part they are shy, so we only hear them or see evidence of their presence. It’s a lucky day when we actually catch a fleeting glimpse of one of them going about their business.
4:37 AM, 05.05.2021 My husband has a game camera that he moves from place to place in our woods. In the wee hours of an early May morning a couple of years ago, he captured video of a bear, fox, raccoon, fisher cat and porcupine, all making their rounds at different times during the same night. We loved that they all chose to cross one of his bridges, rather than keeping their feet on the ground. Owls and pileated woodpeckers are less quiet and less elusive, but no less thrilling to see.
It was hard not to think of the animals who share their homes with us while visiting master carver Dempsey Bob’s retrospective “Wolves”, at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. The beauty and skill of his work is beyond spectacular. His poetic use of line interweaves forms with deceptive simplicity, conveying both depth of character and a seamless alliance between the conjoined animals.
Each wooden surface is burnished to the sleekness of glass, its smoothness amplified by the textural attributes of the other natural materials he incorporates.
Eagle Transformation Mask As one moves around to the left of the above mask, a transformation appears.
Wolf, Frog, Bear, Eagle, Hawk, Raven, Shark, Killer Whale, Salmon and Beaver are all central characters in the cultural stories Bob’s pieces relay. The incorporation of sea lion whiskers, fur, hair, abalone and operculum shells — gifts from the animals themselves — add to the stunning beauty of these pieces while underscoring the native stories they reference.
As a viewer, I couldn’t help but feel reverence — for the work as well as for the creatures depicted. Intentional or not, Dempsey Bob’s art is a reminder of the essential role all creatures play in our collective histories and futures, and of the respect we owe them.
For more depth, this hour-long interview is filled with humor and history. Plus, in a segment that particularly resonated with me, Bob talks about the importance of drawing as a foundation for seeing and for making any type of art. To my mind, that’s the secret that says it all.
The learning continues, thanks to Summer’s slower pace. This month I’ve found myself taking a bit of a detour to focus on composition and value.
My impetus was a Substack entry from Urban Sketcher Suhita Shirodkar, linking to an Ian Roberts’ video about working outside your comfort zone. Watching it reminded me that I have a terrific book Roberts wrote called Mastering Composition. I pulled it out to flip through again and decided to take a stab at his “composition a day” exercise. Refreshers never hurt.
My sole tool has been an HB graphite pencil, making value an integral part of each composition. Repetitively sketching this way for a couple of weeks has made it glaringly obvious the degree to which I gravitate toward, and get caught within, a middle range of values. It’s clear I need to concentrate on pushing for darker darks and blacker blacks.
As an experiment, I converted images of my latest life paintings to black & white in Photoshop. It confirmed, as you can see below, that I need to pay closer attention to my values.
On the bright side, even if this is the only thing I learn this summer, I will consider the season a success.
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My latest art-related treat has been watching videos by artists Sandi Hester and Frances Ives who cover various aspects of their practices on YouTube and Patreon. One of the aspects I most enjoy is they each spend a fair amount of time talking about, experimenting with and swatching new materials, taking a deep dive into the differences between brands and applications.
A screenshot of Sandi Hester’s video “Favorite Color Pencils & Markers”
Regular hauls from Blick and Jackson’s (the UK equivalent to Blick) include all sorts of goodies. I fully acknowledge that for most, watching someone swatch a couple of fistfuls of colored pencils while elaborating on their minute differences might feel akin to joining Edmond Dantès at Chateau d’If (can you tell I’m reading The Count of Monte Cristo this summer?). But for this art nerd, it’s indescribably entertaining. I’m all for learning about the specific details and layering possibilities of unfamiliar materials before buying.
Needless to say, I just placed an order with Blick last weekend.
5-6 months out of the year our yard looks like some version of this.
So is it any wonder that when June rolls around, I can’t get enough of it looking like this?!
I am drunk with color these days.
It’s been a fun exercise this week to create color mixes that mimic what’s in bloom right now. This type of sampling helps me to understand color more generally, and my chosen palette more specifically.
For those who, pardon the pun, like to get into the weeds of such things, I was a bit surprised at how many colors I used: 27 separate colors in making 28 samples of flowers, leaves and paving stones. To some degree, that feels very over the top and, considering 8 of those colors were only used in one color mix, there is definitely room to fine-tune if I were so inclined.
Overall though, most of the colors I used got a pretty good workout, recurring in many of the mixes – most of which were made up of two and very occasionally three paints. The exception was the paving stones. They all required various combinations of three primaries to achieve their neutral tones.
These colors are the backbone of my mixes. The biggest surprise for me is how versatile (and “popular”) the Cobalt Blue Deep turned out to be.
I find it really handy to have color-mix samples like this for reference, so I keep a book full of them that I refer to regularly. I try to make time when I buy a new paint color to play around with it to see how it interacts old favorites.
Without question, if you live in Northern New England life is better if you actually enjoy the subtle hues of late November into deepest winter. But let’s face it, it’ll be nice to return to these samples when the garden is asleep again, as a reminder of the eye-popping abundance of June.
Since we’re talking color… Have you been to the Vermont Arts Council Sculpture Garden in Montpelier to see the collaborative installation Elements of Shelter: Water, Fire, Wood, Earth, Metal? Spearheaded by Thea Alvin and Meg Reinhold, it’s a beautiful meditation on two of Vermont’s most immediate challenges: climate change and the housing crisis. The combination of paint with glass is particularly effective; the work absolutely glows in the sunshine. Plus, the craftsmanship of the pieces, including their timber frames, is gorgeous.
Read further about the installation and its creators in Seven Days. You can follow more of the creation process on Instagram: @theasunshine and @trilliumhandcrafts
First, check out artist Denise Gasser on the April 18th episode of the Art Juice podcast. Even better, if you know a creative young mom who’s at a stage where she feels like she can’t keep her head above her parenting duties long enough to create the work she wants & needs to make, share it with her. Then go one step further and include the link to Gasser’s blog post “A Love Letter to Every Busy, Tired, Creative Mom“.
While the gist of the podcast discussion surrounded social media and ways that it may be impacting and influencing our art, it wasn’t that aspect that caught my attention so much as when Gasser talked about her work as a facilitator. She mentors and inspires artist/mothers to continue with their art after motherhood despite feeling like there is no time (let alone an extra ounce of energy) for anything beyond being a parent.
In the video above, Denise shares how she worked through that issue herself with her series “Art After: Reconciling Art and Motherhood”. As a mother of four boys, the series was begun as a way to bring together, acknowledge and honor her dual roles as artist and as mom. Leaning into reality, she began making 5″ x 7″ paintings, working on each only until she was interrupted by her kids. On the back of each piece she documents the time spent on the painting and what interrupted her, as well as the number of the painting in the series.
More than 200 works later, she had the makings of a solo show. It’s such a great example of the empowering wisdom that taking even just one step a day will get you a lot farther after a week, a month, a year than not taking any steps at all.
And then, looking at the other end of the age spectrum, I happened upon the Legendary Grannie Gang on Instagram last week and was absolutely smitten. Lovers of knitting, superheroes and fearless grannies: you too will find photographer Susanne Krauss‘ irrepressibly joyful portraits irresistible. I think we could all benefit from a bit of Granny Power these days.
Our dog Quinn has the art of post-nap stretching down to a science.
We can’t help but admire and laugh at the languorous ease with which she lowers herself to the floor from her bed on the sofa, slowly and purposefully trailing her hind legs in order to fully stretch out her spine.
I spent our first morning exploring pattern, with the background of future portraits in mind.
Considering it’s beyond mid-May and I’m well out of my winter cocoon, I’ve been thinking about ways to figuratively emulate Quinn’s example in my practice this summer. It would be nice to shake out the cricks of habit and routine that have settled into place after months of being cozied-up inside.
Layers of color add complexity
A hopeful first step was jumping – no leaping – on-board at a friend’s suggestion that several of us take a long weekend for an artist’s retreat at her place on Martha’s Vineyard. In hindsight, there is a certain poetry in the parallel that runs between being situated on a physical island while simultaneously experiencing a metaphorical remove through focused making, discussion and inspiration.
Final spots of red could just as easily been added with thread
As with so many things, the benefits undoubtedly won’t fully surface for a while. No question, it can be quite fruitful to release some of the ideas that bang around within the confines of one’s own head, and then see how those thoughts reflect back in the light of others’ insights and responses. I have a lot to think about now that I’m home, and I know that it will take longer than the actual retreat to get to the nut of what I gleaned.
Later that same day we walked a trail that, in places, ran alongside beautiful old stone walls that are riddled with holes. They are unlike any I’ve ever seen in Vermont or Maine. Later, reading a book about the Vineyard, I learned that these walls, which snake all across this part of the island, are referred to as “lace walls” because of their unusual holes. Although my sample painting above was finished before seeing the walls up close, I can’t help but think of it now as an abstraction and reminder of Chilmark’s unique and ubiquitous boundary markers.
I’m feeling like I got a satisfying stretch for my brain and my practice, and am ready to move forward.
Trimming down what I brought with me took some thought because there is the very real temptation to bring everything. Bottom line: it doesn’t take much to create and settle into a transitory studio.
This summer I am planning to balance stitched studio portraits with more spontaneous versions that are painted from life in a group setting. The difference between the two is obvious, but I feel like each approach feeds the other in a way that ultimately benefits both, as well as my own learning arc.
Ready for a quick trip to the South?
Last week we visited Charleston, SC and Savannah, GA and, as on most travels, there was plenty of art to enjoy in the moment and to think about after coming home. Here are a few highlights from The Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston, my favorite of the various art venues we visited.
These are still shots from a video within one of Filsoofi’s boxes. The viewer becomes participant in that the video subjects appear to be checking us out as closely as we are observing them.
What attracted me to The Gibbes Museum in the first place was their collection of miniature portraits. According to the museum’s literature, the first-ever American miniatures were painted in Charleston and the Gibbes collection holds over 600 works spanning from early colonial examples of the 18th century to the Revival Period of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
They are remarkable!
H.F. Plowden Weston, by Charles Fraser, 1824
Miss Reynolds of Fenwick Hall, by Charles Fraser, 1835
Christopher Gustavus Memminger, by Charles Fraser, 1823 This gentleman looks so familiar to me! I think I’ve watched way too many Masterpiece period dramas.
Actor Jack Farthing
How wonderful to see Joseph Jackson’s sketchbook which held preliminary portraits that he may have used to impress perspective clients.
Moving on, there’s nothing quite like an independent bookstore for providing a sense of grounding when visiting a new locale. Curated shelves that reflect local pride in the history, authors and artists of a place reveal the rich undercurrent of a city in a way that generic travel books can’t begin to match.
If you’re willing to snoop around a bit, you never know what you might discover. A visit to Buxton Books in Charleston opened a couple of interesting doors for me.
I loved the art on the cover of this book of poetry by South Carolinian Marlanda Dekine, and had to find out more about Fletcher Williams III, the artist who created it. The piece is named “Westward”.
It turns out that Williams has a resume that extends far beyond book cover illustration. He is a multi-media artist living and working in Charleston, making identity-based art and is a rising star. With an academic foundation in psychology and anthropology, his artwork speaks to the history of Charleston and the culture of the Lowcountry, but not in the way one might expect.
Taking time to follow the interview links on Williams’ website gave me a much deeper understanding of both his artistic aims and the challenges he confronts. He is incredibly thoughtful and articulate. His discussion regarding having to navigate the complexities of feeling pressured to speak to the Black experience, while coping with narratives thrust upon him and his artwork that are not his own, was enlightening. While I don’t think one can ever fully grasp the underlying dynamics of a specific place unless one is a native, I found it fascinating (and important) to get a glimpse, via his interviews, beyond the usual tropes and assumptions.
And for those more interested in textiles, the other book that caught my attention was Embroidery: Threads and Stories from Alabama Chanin and the School of Making by Natalie Chanin. It was way too fat and heavy to bring home in my carry-on, but I snagged a Kindle edition and am looking forward to reading, rather than just flipping through this part autobiography, part “exploration into how sewing and embroidery relate to wider concerns of sustainability, community and women’s empowerment”.
The Museum of Craft and Design in San Francisco is currently exhibiting 100 of Anne Hicks Siberell’s Concrete Journals. A bookmaker and writer, Siberell has been a visual diarist for decades. Initially inspired by the permanence of ancient clay cuneiform tablets, she has made several hundred collaged “entries” marking personal and world events by embedding collected ephemera within concrete that she then carves and paints once it has dried.
Too bad the show isn’t a little more convenient to see in person, but in lieu of that, don’t miss Siberell’s website for examples of her journal tablets and other work.
The urge to keep a record, to act as witness within our own lives and of the world at large, is ubiquitously human. For the reader/viewer of these works, experiencing the intimacy of another’s story is a gift. The first time I realized the empathic enormity to be gained from learning about someone else’s day-to-day was in middle school, reading Anne Frank’s diary. It was an important lesson at a time in life when one is largely self-absorbed.
May Sarton’s Journal of a Solitude had a tremendous impact on me in college and, as noted in a post from May 2020, resonated just as strongly soon after the pandemic confined us. Meanwhile, I have just begun Anne Truitt’s Day Book and look forward to the lessons she too will have for me.
Thinking along these lines, I can’t tell you how many written journals I have begun and deserted over the years. My inability to follow through has always made me a bit sad. But after looking at Siberell’s work and learning of the appellation “visual diarist”, I realized that I have been keeping a diary of sorts all along.
A sneak peak at my current work in progress. Oh – that blue! This model has such knowing eyes, which may well figure into the title. The gloppy yellow hair strands are masking fluid which I’ll remove eventually, but for the moment it keeps those areas safe from paint.
A trip back through my “catalogue” of work so far: pastel paintings, art quilts, textile collages, drawings, sketchbooks, and current stitched portraits and house & garden pieces, is just as much an ongoing record of personal events and experiences as that of any formal written diary. And then there is this blog, which I have maintained faithfully and regularly for the past 8-1/2 years.
So it looks like I have indeed been keeping track after all. To underline the point, note the title of this post from May, 2020, also linked above. How very reassuring to know that everything hasn’t just evaporated with the years.
Usually, an idea for each upcoming blog post surfaces well before I begin writing. But this week I’ve been at a loss. After a number of false starts, I was sitting here at my computer wondering what in the world to write when I started to tune into the soft and steady breathing from under my desk.
And simple as that, this post was born. Quinn’s gentle snoring nudged me into remembering a recent article about a new exhibition that has just opened at the Wallace Collection in London, “Portraits of Dogs: From Gainsborough to Hockney” .
My chances of getting to see the show in person are slim. So in lieu of heading to the UK, I pulled out a couple of books that center on dogs in art and had a bit of an at-home exhibition of my own.
The first, The Book of Dog, is a compendium of varied works spanning centuries, curated with a contemporary eye. The other, We Think the World of You is a series of sensitive pencil drawings enhanced with minimal washes of color by David Remfry. Although quite spare, his pieces convey the depth of the unique bond between individual dogs and owners.
In snooping around a bit more online to see what else I could learn about the Wallace Collection show, I came across this searing review. Honestly, it is so outspokenly negative it made me chuckle. As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
This photo is from an invitation to an exhibition at the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rottredam, 1995.
A dog portrait may not be to everyone’s taste, but for those who are of like mind, here’s to our beloved canine pals – in art and in general. And an added three cheers for the sweet sense of connection that comes in knowing that such greats as Leonardo da Vinci, Andy Warhol and David Hockney also found inspiration in portraying their pets. In Hockney’s case, the portraits of his dachshunds even offered an avenue toward moving through grief after the death of a close friend.
From a more workaday perspective though, I’ll bet each famous master (pun intended) welcomed the break that painting a pooch provided from the demands of finicky human patrons.
It’s been a while since I last posted about art supplies.
As I delve further into stitched paintings, new supplies are rotating into my regular line-up. I’m also reintroducing a couple of items that I haven’t used in decades, but happily never got rid of…chalk one up for pack-rat genes! Maybe something below will nudge you into thinking about trying something new – or old – in your own practice.
I’ve recently been considering the possibility of incorporating small areas of gold into my paintings. However, before dropping into a gold leaf rabbit hole, I realized I already had some ground gold watercolor pigment from Daniel Smith that I must have bought at their flagship store when we lived near Seattle almost 30 (gulp) years ago. It’s so old I don’t think you can even get it like this anymore, but what I have hasn’t suffered any with age. Once reconstituted with water, it’s just the touch of Midas I was looking for, without the learning curve.
When I worked in graphic design (and we actually drew with real ink rather than on computers), I had a ruling pen for making rules/lines. It’s a great tool that I’d completely forgotten about. Listening to a podcast recently, I heard someone mention using a ruling pen as a way to get a really fine and even line with masking fluid for her watercolors. Eureka! Works like a charm — as you can see both above & below.
Gold paint and masked lines in action on my current piece
It hasn’t taken long to realize that if I’m going to continue with watercolor painting, I need to stretch my paper. I wanted a couple of boards that could accommodate smaller cuts of paper and would fit on my desk with all the other supplies. But I didn’t want to have to buy a full 4′ x 8′ sheet of plywood which was way more than needed. I’m so grateful that a friend had a smaller, cast-off piece in his barn that he was willing to throw my way. My husband cut it down into 4 pieces of varying sizes and sanded them to a velvet finish for me. A quick coat of sealant on the flat sides and gesso along to edges to keep out the water and I am now in business with several sizes to choose from. If you’re interested in making your own boards, “Watercolorish” has a solid video that discusses his boards and his method for stretching paper.
The algorithm on Instagram definitely has me pegged, so the ads I see are pretty much all art-related. In two cases I learned about items that have become my new workhorses.
Jazper Stardust paint is 100% handmade in micro batches of pure earth pigments. I bought a set of 12 half pans of what he calls “Skin Tones” and I absolutely love them. They mix and granulate beautifully. If you’re curious, he has loads of intriguing individual colors and sets – a lot of which are geared toward landscape artists with specific locales and weather in mind.
Last fall I bought two round Polina Bright brushes. Their performance is so outstanding that I bought a rigger and mop brush last month. Made with synthetic hair, they aren’t expensive yet they hold water and a point better than any of my other “fancier” brushes. Heads-up: she’s in Australia so your order will take a bit of time in transit.
And of course it pays to keep your eyes open because you never know where and when you’ll find your next treasure.
I grabbed this gem last weekend at a nearby bookshop; it’s from the awesome Peter Pauper Press (love their sketchbooks too). It comes with 3 removable book-like inserts: 1 with lined paper, 1 with dotted grid pages, and 1 with blank pages, and it also includes a zippered storage pocket.
It’s wonderfully compact (7-3/4″ x 4.5″) with a faux leather cover and an elastic band closure, so I know it will be secure in my bag and can stand up to lots of use, making it perfect for both travel and around town. I’m thinking I’ll just switch out a couple of the ready-supplied inserts for a homemade sketchbook using the Fabriano or Stillman & Birn paper I have on hand.
Finally, writing this post tickled my curiosity because I know there have to be plenty of other folks who are sharing what they know about art supplies online. Here’s a list of various podcasts that do just that. I can’t vouch for any of them yet, but I’ll be listening to “Art Supply Posse“ this afternoon as I continue with the stitching phase of my current work in progress.
Sneak peak of “Keeper of the Keys” earlier in the week as I was choosing thread colors.