A Moment in the Studio

Recently, I had a moment in the studio that made me stop everything! 

You know how you’ll have your agenda set, your process well directed, all systems GO—me too!  Letting the process take over has allowed paintings to emerge without preconceived notions.  Ah, to be so free….

But this time the picture jolted together before me and I was stunned.  Let me explain:

I’d killed my current painting a couple of times already.  I had a strong bed of texture laid down:  hay and cattails (bulrushes) embedded in a pool of dried latex paint.  Typically I use the lines from the textural underpainting to direct the subject matter, but it just wasn’t working out this time.

So I’d painted over the whole uptight mess—twice now.  I’d gotten a beautiful effect during paint-over #1 by applying a dark wash of watery paint over my texture.  I decided to do that again. 

All was going as according to plan.   The dark wash had gathered into all the pockets of that voluptuous surface and I was forging ahead with a new course of action.

"Sweetgrass Drawing  23/30", 8" x 10", Pastel and Gesso on Prepared Board

I decided that this time I would use the above drawing as a model for the painting.  My plan was to use my data projector to shoot the drawing onto the canvas and simply paint it in.  However I couldn’t get the distance in my studio to enlarge the drawing enough—C’MON MAN!

I couldn’t seem to get a break with this painting!  The next day I decided that I could use the grid formula to increase the scale of the drawing and transfer it to the painting.   A piece of cake, old school but imminently doable….

This decision proved to be the game changer.

I measured out a 12” array over the surface and drew the lines in with charcoal.  The panel was laid on saw horses and as I finished the grid I set it up to begin the transfer process.

GASP. 

I saw it in an instant—a nano-instant. 

The grid broke up this epic field of texture into bite sized portions.  It isolated sections so that they became a group of individual pieces rather than an incomprehensible whole.  The visually overwhelming (who knew?) had become manageable.

In a rush of realization I set down the charcoal and stepped away from the painting.  Oh my goodness, what have I done!?

It was actually interesting!  The different pieces compared so well to each other…my eye was bouncing from one section to the next, over and across—I had to sit down.  I’d been knocked from Abstract Expressionism into Minimalism in one aesthetic hammer blow.

 

And I haven't gone back...

In just a few days I’ve completed 3 other highly textured grid paintings using different colored washes for the background.  I’ve filled in the squares with fabulous colors (say goodbye to the latex neutrals!).  

I’ve left sections empty on some paintings.  I’ve left a group of 4 large panels void of any further markings after gorgeous blue green washes.  I’ve built 18 small square surfaces for a grid installation painting which are now heaped with hay and bulrushes and drying in the barn.

The current studio view

And the struggle, the noodling and the exertion, effort and strain of composing the “brilliant and breathtaking” is gone.  I’d had the nagging feeling that this work with the hay  didn't need to go much further, but I just hadn't found the way yet. 

Now it’s full steam ahead.

If you have frustration or nagging feelings with your creations, Listen To That.  Where are they coming from?  What do they mean?  They were telling me that what I was doing wasn't what I needed; that  I was pushing past my own artwork.

Blow it out—figure it out—talk it out—work it out.  Be bold, be alert, and look for your moment.  Expect it.  Grab it.  Run with it!

http://jtnwdc.wix.com/jamesthatcherarts

Scale and Measurement: Creating a Mural from a Sketch

I just finished 2 ½ hours with a reporter doing an article about the New Vision Heron Mural.  A surprising amount of our conversation had to do with preserving the characteristics of the preliminary artwork in the mural.  How do you scale up drawings?  

For this project I began by overlaying a grid of ½” squares onto a copy of the sketch, and then drew 12 inch squares on the mural.  This creates a      ½” scale      (½” = 1’).

On the sketch I found where the edge of the heron intersected a grid line, and put a dot on that spot, on the mural’s grid.  Going to the next place where that edge crossed a grid line, I transferred another point to the mural grid.  As I worked around the drawing, marking the mural and then connecting the dots, the tiny drawing was faithfully rendered.

My pet peeve about many murals is that they don’t look like paintings.  Accurately rendering the sketch is my best attempt to make the mural look like art, so I’m taking pains to get the lines, marks and distortion in the right spots.

 

 I continue the same procedure for the distortion speckles in the background.  On a mural it may not be visible to drive by viewers, but it is a part of the approved design…it also creates a texture in the background, rather than simply having flat planes of color.

 

This drawing was approved by the town’s Historic District Commission. All the contributions were given to see this drawing made into a mural.  There is accountability to the community and all the donors to render the sketch accurately!

I also want to improve on the drawing by making the steps in background colors smoother and cleaner:  I’ve spent 12 hours mixing colors to achieve that. 

 

These samples were created using measuring spoons, converting to cups for painting the fields of color in the 30’ x 12’ finished mural.  I also make a sample chart using the mass quantity mixtures to verify accuracy.

Studies often surpass finished artworks in charm and spontaneity— translating that joy to a large scale work is a challenge.  These mathematic functions are only the foundation for accomplishing that.  All of your skill will be called on to fill in the gaps, once your proportions and color are properly translated.

Best wishes, and don’t be afraid to GO LARGE!