Metamorphosing Amberwings and Background

Eastern Amberwings II. Moku Hanga by Ken Januski, copyright  2020. 8x10 inches.

I've just finished the second of two Moku Hanga based on Eastern Amberwing dragonflies. Above is the second version. I got the idea for  it as I was printing the background blue for a second time  on the first version(below) and accidentally printed  it upside down. I'd done  the same thing on my recent Golden-crowned  Kinglets Moku Hanga and both times was intrigued by how it changed the  print.

This time I decided to finish the first print without the upside down overprinting. But when I'd finished  the edition I kept  wanting to explore the overprinting and see where  it would lead.

Eastern Amberwings I. Moku Hanga by Ken Januski, copyright  2020. 8x10 inches.

One of the odder things about both prints is that the first print is printed on much better paper than the second. And yet the  first print looks sloppier, especially in the background. So at the moment I much prefer the second more abstract print. But it's possible another printing of the first  would  make it look stronger.

Something I continue to realize  about my work -- it almost catches me by surprise -- is  that I really don't like traditional space in my own work. Perhaps this is  just a matter of the influences of  the time when I first started making art. Much twentieth century art rebelled against a confined flat space in painting, particularly an illusionistic one. Instead either complete  two dimensional  flatness with no hint of depth was admired or more of a pulsating space, as for  instance in Piet Mondrian or Stuart Davis where  various parts of the canvas/picture, no matter how abstract, seemed to intermittently call out for attention. Similar  to the latter I think  was the popularity of collage where fragments of different pictures or representations were pasted together to create something new.

Though I did go through an abstract period  of wanting absolute flatness  and no hint of space I've always been more attracted to the broken, often pulsating space of collage or painters like Stuart Davis. Perhaps if  I'd never left the small town I grew up in and had spent less time in large cities my perspective  would be different. Certainly large cities do have a more pulsating environment with something new always catching your attention.

And yet when I look, very briefly, at video  games or even commercials during  some televised sporting events their wild  cacophony and chaos make the pulsating space of Mondrian and  Davis  look positively bucolic. That type of  non-stop activity seems to me to lead to mental chaos. No wonder so many people  have short attention spans.

But I digress!!!!! I really went through all of  that to explain why I have what may seem to some to be a perverse desire to ruin a good picture. Again this reminds me of  painters  who made sure that their paintings, even when realistic, showed signs of  process, most noticeably in paint drips.  And of course paint drips eventually became one of  the biggest  cliches in modern art.  It's hard  to say how much  coming  of  age when showing process was de rigeur  in art has influenced my own ideas of  what art should  be. But I'm sure I still have a bias for signs of process and for collage.

All I can say is that there is an intuitive desire to  prevent my own work from having a space that seems too confined, too settled. So I often do things to prevent that. I do it  because  is seems  right to me. It gives the picture the ability to breathe, not to be claustrophobic.

So when I mistakenly printed  the background upside down in my last too prints  I was very happy  with the result. It seemed to open up the space in both, to give the prints some room to breathe. But that in itself doesn't make a good painting or  print. It can just look completely out of place. So  for me the challenge of the second Eastern Amberwings print was to develop  the broken background with the  rest of the print so that it all looked cohesive, like it belonged  together. That is what I think I've done.

I have great admiration for  many artists who work with traditional space. But for  me I always get a bit antsy when I see it in my own work. There is a desire to try for something else.

Dancing Crane Flies, High Herons, Giant Zinnias

Dancing Crane Flies over Arbor Vitae.

Dancing Crane Flies over Arbor Vitae.

Each fall and winter, as far as I can tell after the first hard frost, a huge number of insects dance about in the air above a 6' Arbor Vitae that we bought years ago. They've always puzzled us so finally last year I got out my butterfly net and caught some: Crane Flies. What a surprise! Additionally I've found that there are numerous ones in Pennsylvania and obviously even more throughout the US and the world.

They are so busy bouncing up and down, almost like dowitchers of  the air, stitching air rather than mud, that it's almost impossible to see one individual. Today however I decided to spend 15 minutes trying to get decent photos of them. Two of the best are above. I think they give some idea of what it's like to see them in the yard. The oddest thing, still, is why they don't seem to come alive until cold weather. And why do they always choose this arbor vitae, one of the lesser shrubs of our garden, one that we bought when we were raw beginners as gardeners and just never replaced?

In any case it's always a pleasure to see them.

Two Great Blue Herons at Manayunk Canal. Field Sketch by Ken Januski

At this time of year it's always tempting to take a birding walk to see what is still about. There will be a few new arrivals, like mergansers and grebes, but mainly it's a matter of seeing what is still here.

Today found no real surprises at the Manayunk Canal. But I was puzzled about the herons. I'd hoped to see a Green Heron but knew that would be unlikely. But where were the Great Blues? They should surely be there. Has all the development there driven them out?* I fear that it eventually will. It's been two years since I've seen a night heron there. But when I started my return walk I found two, both high in trees. I always forget to look up! I've done a lot of Great Blue Heron sketches so today I concentrated on sketches that placed them in their environment.

Benary's Giant Zinnias after first hard frost.

Benary's Giant Zinnias after first hard frost.

Ever since our first hard frost a few nights ago our Benary's Giant Zinnias have looked the worse for wear. And yet they may still be the most beautiful things in the garden. But anyone who has seen Mondrian's Chrysantemum drawings will know that the structure of this type of flower is in and of itself a thing of beauty, regardless of whether the color is still there or the plant is still alive. Each fall I look at out spent zinnias and think of Mondrian.

I'm not really sure when he did them. I assume before the paintings that he's famous for. If so you can tell just by looking at them that this will be an artist to reckon with. By the way seeds for these wonderful zinnias are currently on sale for half price at Seed Savers Exchange. I'm pretty sure that's where ours are from.

I know this is a bit of a hodgepodge. But I did want to post something about each of these so into the HodgePodge Post they went.

*After I wrote this I realized that I should add that it is not all bad news at the Manayunk Canal, though I think it is far more bad than good. About a month ago Fairmount Park planted 100s of native trees and shrubs along the canal. As I recall there were a few oaks, though not many, birches, magnolias and numerous shrubs. Invasives have been removed to a certain extent to make way for the native plantings.

Eventually that should help the wildlife of the Manayunk Canal. On the downside I also learned that they're planning to dredge the canal to make it passable again, hopefully for nothing larger than a canoe or kayak. I'm sure that will have negative effects on the wildlife that are there. A Spotted Sandpiper hung out in that area this summer and I wouldn't be surprised if it's the hidden deeper area that is going to be dredged that also protects the herons. I fear it will become just another city park.

Some monstrously large, and ugly, buildings have been going up for months on the eastern side of the path. They nearly abut the path and much vegetation has been cut as they've been developed. I can only guess the negative effect of all the people moving into this grouping of monolithic housing will do. But as I said at least there is a small bit of good news in all of the native plantings.