What's With All That Gray?

Original Moku  Hanga of Male Canvasback and Hooded Merganser. Copyright 2020 by Ken Januski. 8x10 inches on  Nishinouchi Japanese paper.

This new moku hanga came about due to a combination of two things: Facebook reminding me of a field sketch I'd done and posted about 4 years ago of a male Canvasback and Hooded Merganser at Morris Arboretum and the resulting large charcoal drawing I'd done based on the field sketch and photos; and The International Moku Hanga Conference whose theme this year is the use of sumi in moku hanga.

Charcoal Drawing of Drake Canvasback and Hooded Merganser.Copyright 2015 by Ken Januski

Field Sketches of Drake Canvasback and Hooded Merganer seen at Morris Arboretum. Copyright 2015 by Ken Januski

Original Woodcut of Drake Canvasback and Hooded Merganser. Copyright 2015 by Ken Januski

What I particularly liked about the charcoal drawing was the rich blacks I'd used in it. It reminded me of the rich black I used to get by using compressed charcoal and heavy duty erasers in my abstract work. I also did a woodblock print based on the drawing, in fact I did  two variations, but I was never completely happy with them.

In any case I'd been toying with submitting  to the conference(though my guess is now  that it might be cancelled/postponed) and thought I would submit some of my earlier moku hanga. But the notion of incorporating  a large amount of sumi in a  new moku hanga was intriguing. And I did  love the blacks and grays I'd gotten in my little exploration of both Chinese and Japanese brush painting. So I thought I'd try a new version of the Canvasback and Hooded Merganser.

But a funny thing happened. As I started this new print I eventually shied away from the deep blacks that had dominated the charcoal  drawing and the previous woodblock prints based on it. I was reminded of just how rich and vibrant various grays could be both in brush painting from China and Japan and in ink wash drawings  in traditional European and American art. My personal favorites of the latter were Rembrandt and, much more recently, Richard Diebenkorn and Elmer Bischoff(with whom I'd studied and done many wash drawings in life drawing classes). Ink wash drawings can capture light in the way no other medium can, with  the possible exception of  watercolor.

So before I knew it I was doing a moku hanga print  that did include some deep blacks but also used a variety of  grays.  That's what you see at top. The grays don't sing as much as I'd like and the blacks are not as deep as I'd like but I'm happy with it. Monochromatic art is not everyone's cup of tea. But it has great possibilities. I've actually written years ago on this very blog about how I think tonal orchestration may be the most  important aspect of painting, but an orchestration that is  after the fact and intuitive, not formulaic. My guess is that I could spend years doing such work before I'd be  able  to really explore its potential. And I doubt I'll do that. But I am glad I tried!

Part of the edition. This photo shows 12 of the prints.  I've started a second batch of 12.

Though I spent a lot of time in art school, and though I knew a couple of printmakers during that time I never actually studied  it. I'm largely self-taught. That's neither here nor there but  it  does mean I'm never quite sure how common my approach to printmaking is. That said I'll just say that I spend forever proofing the prints, changing it after almost every proof. There is some planning but far more improvisation. There are generally more proofs than actual prints. By the time I  finally get a print  that I'm happy  with I'm exhausted. I really don't feel like spending much time printing an edition.

And yet! It seems silly to have spent all that time and energy for just one print. So I try to buckle down and print an edition. An added benefit, as I'm sure I've mentioned  before, is that I may sell one of the prints from an edition years after I've made it. I like that. Both the sales and the appreciation. Another benefit of having to print an edition is that it forces technical practice on me. I don't like technique. But most good artists have some sort of technique, even if it's nothing more than knowledge built on experience. I already have a lot of experience with composition. What I lack is experience with printing. So every edition I  print, even when reluctantly, does give me more experience. And I think makes me a better printer.

Birding by Snowshoe

Myself along the Manayunk Canal. Photo by Ken Januski.

A year ago I broke down and bought some snowshoes, then a short time later bought some more for my wife Jerene. I knew that this would almost guarantee that we would get no snow last winter and probably for the next 5-10 winters. But no, we were able to get out a few times last year. At other times just the poles by themselves proved helpful when hiking icy ruts.

Jerene along the Manayunk Canal. Photo by Ken Januski.

Unfortunately we were not able to get out during our recent snowstorm/blizzard. Then finally today we made it to the Manayunk Canal, where unlike many areas, there was still a lot of snow on the ground. Above you see both me and Jerene. The camera was misbehaving so they're not the best photos but at least they show some documentation of our snowshoe birding.

Though we'd hoped to see some winter waterfowl, especially along the Schuylkill River, there wasn't anything unusual. But we did see four Common Mergansers and three Hooded Mergansers, the first of 2016. Seeing them is always a sign that winter really is here!

Ruddy Turnstone at Stone Harbor jetty. Brush Painting by Ken Januski.

Just as we've been too busy to enjoy the snow I've been too busy to do any artwork. But I found an hour a day or two ago to do this brush painting of a Ruddy Turnstone seen on a jetty at Stone Harbor, NJ last May. I continue to enjoy working with a Chinese brush and ink stick.

Highlights of the Natural Year - 2015, Part 1

Ebony Jewelwing. Photo by Ken Januski.

Over the last couple of years I've ended the year on this blog with a post about my best reading of each year. Delacroix's Journal was near the top both years as I recall. Though I'm tempted to do the same year I'm instead going to show some of the highlights of the natural year, experiences in nature that were most memorable.

For whatever reason one of the most striking was a huge hatch of Ebony Jewelwings seen at Morris Arboretum. In one corner of the Arboretum, between the Wissahickon and Paper Mill Run, a tributary of the Wissahickon, every step I took brought up 3-5 new damselflies. They've always been one of my favorites but I generally see just one or two at a time. In this case there were easily 100. The only somewhat comparable experience was a wealth of Autumn Meadowhawks at John Heinz NWR it the fall. But this isn't the first time we've seen many of them in the fall, most notably at Magee Marsh near Toledo, OH, so they weren't quite as striking. Still they do illustrate one of the many wonders of nature: not rarity but almost the opposite, fecundity.

With that introduction to this post made I'll now move on to a more chronological list.

Hundreds of Snow Geese Flying over Morris Arboretum. Photo by Ken Januski.
 

I didn't really intend to continue the fecundity theme but it turns out that one of the earliest natural highlights was the momentary appearance of hundreds of Snow Geese over Morris Arboretum on January 25, 2015. I chose this photo not because it looks like much but because it does give an idea of the numbers. I believe that I counted a total of 225.

Peregrine on Church Steeple. Watercolor by Ken Januski.

As I've written before we don't see many Peregrine Falcons. The most memorable have been at Cape May, NJ and at Forsythe NWR also I NJ. Then we heard that they nested very close to where we live, less than a mile away actually. Since then we've seen them more and more frequently, especially when they are actively feeding the young and when the young are just starting to fly. It is always a great thrill to see and hear the young ones briefly fly high above our backyard. But I was particularly surprised to find this one, perched on the same church steeple where they nest, on the first day of the Great Backyard Bird Count, on February 13, 2015. This is a small watercolor I did of it.

Red-breasted and Common Merganser with Bufflehead. Woodcut by Ken Januski

Red-breasted and Common Merganser with Bufflehead. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

Soon after seeing the Peregrine I saw my first ever Red-breasted Merganser at Flat Rock Dam in the nearby Schuylkill River, along with two Common Merganser and two Bufflehead. I did the watercolor sketch soon afterwards and then eventually used it as the basis for the woodcut. Despite my best intentions the woodcut did not turn out as well as I had hoped. But my prints often involve experimenting with something new, moving on rather than consolidating knowledge and skill. So perhaps I bit off more than I should have.

Long-eared Owl. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

Though we've birded quite a bit over the last 20 years we haven't seen that many owls. So when Long-eared Owls were reported at John Heinz NWR in SW Philadelphia and they seemed to stay there for a few days we just had to take a chance and head down to look for them. Though there was only one left and it was buried in a tangle and thus hard to see or photograph I did manage to make this quick watercolor sketch based on some of the photos. As birders often don't seem to recognize the need not to intrude on unusual birds, especially owls, we didn't stick around as long as we might have with some other birds. Still it was a great thrill to see the bird. Recently I received Scott Weidensaul's new book on owls and the photos remind me of the orange face which we only briefly saw. How nice it would have been to be able to see and capture that in paint. Perhaps next time.

We have been fortunate enough to see and hear Great Horned Owls numerous times this year in Philadelphia so our luck with owls seems to be getting better. Though we rarely saw them we used to go to sleep to Barred Owls calling when we regularly vacationed at Lewis Mountain Campgrounds at Shenandoah National Park 10 years or so ago.

Canvasback and Hooded Merganser. Charcoal Drawing by Ken Januski.

Canvasback and Hooded Merganser. Ball Point Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

One of the ducks I've always wanted to see but haven't is the Canvasback. I'm sure I read somewhere of it being called the Aristocrat of Ducks. It's easy to see why with that seemingly noble forehead and beak, not to mention the striking colors, especially in the drake. We saw our first ever at the Manayunk Canal in early spring then saw the drake above at Morris Arboretum where it stuck around for at least two weeks as I recall. And with him were numerous Hooded Mergansers, perhaps the Crown Princes and Princesses of Ducks. When I saw the two drakes together I couldn't resist a large charcoal drawing, shown above as well as a woodcut. The also offered one of the first chances, along with the Long-eared Owl, for field sketches in 2015.

Next it will be time for the first warbler of 2015. That means spring and probably the time for a separate installment of this post.

First Brood Parasites of 2015 (Please Note the Date)

Drake Canvasback and Hooded Merganser. Woodcut by Ken Januski.

Blame it on something I read about April Fools Day. I wouldn't normally use such a jokey title as I have today. But it is appropriate. We saw our first Brown-headed Cowbirds today, shortly after the first Eastern Phoebes have arrived, and you can bet that some poor phoebes will soon be raising cowbirds, even if the young cowbirds are twice their size.

Below are some recent field sketches: I've already mentioned the female American Kestrel feeding on an American Robin at Morris Arboretum. On the opposite page are some of the first Eastern Phoebes and Hermit Thrushes that we've seen this year. At bottom right another thrush, the American Robin, that posed just long enough outside my studio window to sketch in everything but his head. When I looked up to do that he was gone.

One of the things I always notice about Hermit Thrushes is that they are pot-bellied. Because of this I sometimes think that all my Hermit Thrush look the same, almost always starting with the pot belly. Still it is accurate. That's just the way they are. They're also a bit smaller than American Robins and 2 out of the 3 times we've seen them together over the last week the Robin chased the Hermit Thrush out of his feeding area. Given his size I guess the Hermit Thrush wasn't going to argue.

American Kestrel with Prey, Eastern Phoebe, Hermit Thrush, American Robin. Field Sketches by Ken Januski.

Yesterday I experienced something new: printing two editions of the same print in the same day. This wasn't planned. It's just that the first edition of the Canvasback and Hooded Merganser at top was much too dark, with many of the finer lines covered/blurred by ink and/or the type of paper I used. I also switched from a soft to hard brayer part way through the edition with little improvement. After all the work that goes into a print it's very unsatisfying to have the end result be something other than what you anticipated.

So after some errands I returned home and printed a somewhat smaller edition. This time I used the smooth side of some Shin Torinoko paper as well as a hard brayer. That seemed to keep the ink just about perfect on the surface of the print. That is what I'm showing at top. This edition is for sale on Etsy. I may eventually put some of the rougher first edition up for sale at at a lower price. It looks alright but it just isn't what I planned on.

I've read recently something I read every year or two in a different source. Audiences, to a large extent, like their art to be interactive. By this I don't mean the silly online interactive quality that many struggling businesses use to try to save their businesses. What I, and the people I'm reading, mean is that the artwork is not so perfect, so closed off that the viewer or reader is left cold, as though he's an observer rather than a participant. In other words he is able to use his imagination and experience to finish the work. The most obvious case for this is novels. They are not visual, nor aural. And yet most readers react badly when they see the characters they're familiar with from novels portrayed in film or on television. We often react badly because we've developed through our imagination a far different view of the character.

In visual art I think that this is why I shy, to put it mildly, away from high finish in my work. High finish may impress those who assume it must take work to get such a finish, but for an audience that looks for something more I think they often react badly because the art work is closed to them. Their imagination cannot enter into a dialog with the work and complete it as they see fit because there is no room. The artwork is a closed door. Stand back and admire my skill, or else.

This is a lengthy argument and something I won't purse at length. But it is not something new, not some fad forced on art by modernism. If you think so then take a look at Rembrandt. Up close so many of his works just show brushstrokes. But from a distance the viewer uses his imagination to complete the work, and history shows that they are far more esteemed than contemporary work of a high finish.

Why do I bring all of this up now? It's something I think about in regard to the woodcut. Woodcuts, just like linocuts, can be exceedingly linear and graphic. It would have been possible to outline every branch and twig in the print. I could have made neater more regular lines for the water. Relief printing lends itself I think to linearity. But even though we undoubtedly see line in the world it's not all we see. And if everything is line it undoubtedly can have a strong graphic, two-dimensional effect but it eliminates the possibility of three dimensions, the world in which we actually live.

All of which goes to say that I try to avoid too much regularity in my prints. I could easily add them and get a snappier two-dimensional, flat result. But that's not what I want. I think that the more irregular method used above and in many of my prints gives the viewer a little more room to enter the picture and enjoy it. Sorry for this lengthy digression but I often write about my dislike for too much finish in art, especially wildlife art, and I just realized another reason why: it closes off the viewer from the experience.

First Day of Spring - 2015

Witch Hazel with New Snow - First Day of Spring 2015. Photo by Ken Januski.

Normally I plant peas by St. Patrick's Day, March 17th. But wet soil delayed that task. Just as well as today, the first day of spring, we're predicted to get 3-5 inches of snow, of which at least 3 has already fallen. Above is a photo, out a dirty inside window, of the fresh snow on an Arnold's Promise Witch Hazel.

Temperatures in the 50s are predicted for tomorrow though so my guess is that this is winter's last gasp. It's always nice to see the first birds of spring and I've been out looking for them. Instead I've found the last birds of winter. including the male Canvasback and Hooded Merganser, still at Morris Arboretum where they've been for a few days.

Canvasback and Hooded Merganser. Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

If you work in a number of media as I do pictures often present themselves in your minds eye in a certain medium. Even though I had thought of a print featuring the deep mahogany brown of the Canvasback, and lighter cinnamon brown of the Hooded Mergansers, coupled of course with their striking blacks and whites I instead thought of doing it in charcoal, or perhaps a one color linocut. The contrast in black and white, and rich mahogany of the Canvasback head seen as another rich dark seemed more important than color. Rick black and white is what I thought.

So I returned to an old method of charcoal, both vigorously drawn and erased. Someone once mentioned that an earlier work in this method might work well as a woodcut and a few years later that suggestion is what got me to start linocuts. I've toyed since then with charcoal, and sometimes pastel, but more or less stopped because of the health hazards of the fixative used to fix the colored powder on the paper. I probably won't return to this method. But yesterday I was happy to turn briefly to the striking immediacy of this method. The drawing below is 18x24 in compressed and vine charcoal.

Canvasback and Hooded Merganser. Charcoal Drawing by Ken Januski.

And now I think, it's about time for the birds of spring to replace the birds of winter, beautiful though they are.

First Field Sketches of 2015

Long-eared Owl and Drake Canvasback. Field Sketches by Ken Januskil

Ken Januski Sketching Hooded Mergansers at Morris Arboretum.

I officially declared 'Spring Is Here' I believe in my last post so I suppose I really ought to prove it by doing some field sketching. That wasn't the main intent in going to Morris Arboretum today but I did want to try out a new Tripak Tripod Pack that I bought recently. You can barely see it here but basically it is a very small backpack whose main function is to carry your tripod and scope on your back leaving your hands free for using your binoculars, sketching, drinking coffee or whatever.

I'm not a big gear person but I've often lamented the pain of carrying around a tripod and scope when I'm out sketching, especially when I'm at a place where I don't know if there'll be much call for a scope. So I often end up carrying it on one hand, tripod legs fully open, or folding the tripod legs and carrying over my shoulder. The problem with that is you can almost never see a bird that appears and disappears quickly. By the time you set the scope down and put up the binoculars the bird is gone. So I decided to gamble on this.

Here's my verdict. It almost paid for itself on the first day today. Even though I have an older, and thus heavier, tripod I hardly noticed I was carrying it. The only thing that did make me notice it is that the tripod legs tended to spread out behind me, something I hadn't thought about. I suppose a small bungee cord might fix that, or further experimentation.  The main thing though is that I was free to bird and sketch as though I didn't have a tripod and scope. Until I needed one. Then there it was conveniently on my back. The only adjustment needed is to lengthen the legs. But for birds seen with a scope you often have time to do that. In any case I have to say I'm really happy I bought this and expect that I'll be taking my scope with me on far more sketching outings.

Early on in our trip we saw eight Hooded Mergansers at the far end of the wetlands pond. But what was that big white shape? Detritus? That seemed unlikely given that the wetland is not public water and thus very clean. I'd forgotten that a Canvasback had been seen there yesterday. So I put the scope to its very first use and saw a handsome drake Canvasback. What a beautiful bird. One of our guides calls it 'The Aristocrat of Ducks.' It's hard to argue with that. Though I also took photos I really wanted to spend some time sketching him. So the photos at top took place over 15-30 minutes as he kept drifting all so slowly but still changing his position every few seconds. So it took awhile of continuing to draw him in various positions before any of the sketches above started to look like much.

Behind him were numerous Hooded Mergansers and I wouldn't be surprised if that combination ends up in a new print or painting. I've been thinking about my favorite prints recently, my own prints I mean, and almost always they stem from a real experience such as this. My background is an abstract artist, or more accurately a non-objective artist, where everything comes out of the artists own imagination, more or less. That's fine and I enjoyed it for years. But now I really enjoy making art based on something that actually happened in the external, especially the natural world.

And that woodcut? I believe that the carving is finished. Each day I continue to proof the black block on good paper, all that I've got left at this point, and I'm unhappy with the ink itself. Tomorrow I'll try one more time. Once I get a good inking the edition should be printed quickly.

Never Seek An Empty Perfection

Solitary Sandpiper. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski

But when something bores you, leave it alone. Never seek an empty perfection. Some faults, some things which the vulgar call faults, often give vitality to a work

Eugene Delacroix, The Journal of Eugene Delacroix , entry for Friday, May 7, 1824. Translated by Hubert Wellington, published by Phaidon Press.

The first and foremost thing in painting is the contour. Even if all the rest were to be neglected, provided the contours were there, the painting would be strong and finished. I have more need than most to be on my guard about this matter; think constantly about it and always begin that way.

Eugene Delacroix, The Journal of Eugene Delacroix, entry for Wednesday, April 7, 1824.

Hooded Merganser and Ruby-crowned Kinglet. Field Sketches by Ken Januski.

The most enjoyable book I've read in the last few years, particularly in regard to art but perhaps on any subject, is The Journal of Eugene Delacroix by Eugene Delacroix. Today Delacroix is the favorite artist of very few I'd guess. He's certainly never been mine. In fact I don't even know his work that well. During the days when I spent hours per month traipsing through art museums Delacroix was not an artist whose work I stopped to appreciate.

And yet it really doesn't make any difference what you think of his work once you start reading his journals. Though I hate to quote the television blowhard Chris Matthews he did mention the other night as we switched channels watching election coverage that politicians seemed to forget that politics is a profession. Amateurs, and I can think of a few who lost badly recently, don't fare well for long regardless of their good intentions. That has been my most frequent criticism of the current administration: they don't seem to have the slightest idea that it is a profession and works best for you if you treat it as such.

Sorry for the detour. Once you leave art school, assuming you went to one, your circle of artists seems to get smaller and smaller. This is no surprise. It happens to everyone once they leave college as family and work become more important than old college chums. What Delacroix offers is a very intelligent, curious and active artist in your home day after day, conversing with you about art. Every day a professional artist comes in to chat. I don't always agree with him. And often he contradicts himself. That really makes no difference to me. What is important is that he helps to clarify my own thoughts about art.

I particularly like the first quote about an empty perfection. I think that this is a thought that stays with Delacroix throughout his life. It reminds me of what I call a licked surface in painting. Everything seems licked clean, reminiscent of people who do the final trimming on their lawn with scissors. Since my work never looks that way you can see why I appreciate it. But my work never looks that way not just due to lack of skill but more due to lack of interest. If my painting or prints tend to look too perfect I tend to do something to destroy that empty perfection.

But my main reason for quoting Delacroix today is the second quote, about the importance of contour. Delacroix himself mentions how varied art and painting are. It's easy to think of great art that doesn't care so much about contours, starting of course with the Impressionists. But for anyone who doesn't want to totally break up the pictorial surface, who wants to portray objects not just the effects of light, then contour is important.

Contour can also be cloying and help to create the type of empty perfection that Delacroix decries. But I think for most artists it can be a lifeline amidst what might otherwise be a chaotic canvas. To me Winslow Homer is a great example of this. His early work seems almost enchained by line and contour. But his later work, especially in watercolor, shows incredible freedom. And yet underneath the freedom you can always sense that the contours are there holding everything together.

So I've been planning to do some work where contour is important, even if it may end up somewhat hidden. Shorebirds are perfect subjects for this because they are often out in the open where it's easy to see their contours. Kinglets, as shown in the field sketch, are different. They seldom sit still so it's hard to see anything other than a fluttering ping pong ball. But even if you do their complex flight feather patterns confuse things. They don't follow the normal wing bars that you see in so many sparrows, warblers and other passerines. But in trying to get them down correctly you almost always force the focus from the important contour of the bird, the thing that gives it life, toward the relatively unimportant flight feather patterns. That's what I've done above. But I do expect to do some more work based on kinglets that I hope will notice their details but do a better job of capturing their form.

Because I'm enjoying my rereading of Delacroix's Journals so much I expect to keep quoting from them as I slowly read them over the months to come.

Spotted Sandpiper Along Wissahickon Creek. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

After I'd posted this I returned to looking for a new subject for a painting or print. Soon I found a number of my photos of Spotted Sandpipers, a rarer bird here than the Solitary Sandpiper but still one that I see fairly often. Since they can be confused, especially when not in breeding plumage, I thought maybe I'd contrast the two. But of my 30 or so photos I've taken of Spotted Sandpipers over the last couple of years one that has stuck with me is this distant view of one across the Wissahickon Creek against some of the magnificent rock formations that border it. I had hoped that even at this distance it might be able to identify the bird but I don't think that is probably the case. Still I think it is obvious that it is a shorebird, and knowledgeable birders will realize that only a few would likely be in this location. By the way this is primarily a two color composition: Yellow Ochre Light and Paynes Gray, with touches of a few other colors like Neutral Tint, Transparent Yellow and Cobalt Blue.