WIP - 2021

Working proof on moku hanga of Whimbrel at 2-Mile Landing. Copyright 2021 by Ken Januski.

 Very sloppy printing I know. This is the best of four proofs I've done on a new moku hanga. It might look familiar as it's based on the acrylic painting I showed in the last post. So far I've used seven 6x8 inch blocks. I need at least one and perhaps two more. As I got further along in proofing I started losing patience in my printing because I was eager to see if the print was starting to come together. So what had been a fairly nicely printed proof got sloppy at the end.

When I started I just grabbed some paper that was lying around, not even sure if it was printmaking paper. Only as I was printing did I happen to see an Arches watermark. Eventually I'll print on a different paper but this one has been fine for proofing.

After I'd done block six I believe, the dark green block I still had only areas of flat color. Something inme wanted to scream. Though flat color, with possible grading through bokashi, and with some complex but regular pattern are part of traditional moku hanga I needed something different. That's been true in most of my moku hanga. I just am not comfortable with all that flat color. So I carved into much of that green block, creating quite a lot of pattern, movement, etc. I think it  was just what the print needed. I did the same to a lesser extent with the last block, the brown one, though that one I had planned at least a little variation on.

So there you have it: a work in progress.  As with most of my work it is an ongoing dance between simple and complex. Stayed tuned to see where the dance ends.

Palm Warbler Marches Along

I decided to use the Palm Warbler in the Bloodroot as the subject for my next linocut and began it yesterday. It's been awhile since I've shown the progress of a linocut so I decided to take some photos of some of the versions so far. At top is version 7.

Above is version five. You can see I've added a fair amount of complexity. Based on past experience I'd guess that somehow or other i'll simplify this now that I've gotten in complicated.

There are three balls that I'm juggling in this print: being true to the Palm Warbler, being somewhat true to his surroundings, especially the Bloodroot, and finally making a visually exiting print. These three goals often fight with one ahother. I won't go into any detail except to say that I always need to make some compromises. And I also need to take some chances. For instance when I decided to make the bold marks of the veins of the oak leaf I realized that though it might be accurate it might also make the print too busy visually. On the other hand maybe it will both be realistic and visually exciting. That's the beauty of art and prints. You take a chance, using your artistic intuition, and hope for the best.

Above is version number three, a fairly early version that shows the print starting to take shape. One thing in it is a lot of blank, black space. That is one thing that I realized early on I would need to fill. Just how I'm still not sure. Again this is part of the artistic compromise. I could just leave it blank and let the focus be on the warbler and bloodroot. But that wasn't what I saw. Both bird and wildflower blended into a complex scene. So I'd like to show some evidence of that without creating a jumbled mess.

And finally a better photo of the watercolor that I also did of this same scene. The print is based on a printed copy of the watercolor. I traced it onto the linoluem block and then started improvising.

I have no idea how this will work out. At this point it really needs do get organized and simplified in some way. But there is still too much flat black as well. So a combination of complicating and simplifying lies ahead. Also the curvilinear shapes fight with the straighter more geometric shapes and marks. That too needs a resolution.

Simplify

If there in one thing I have very reluctantly learned over 40 years of artmaking it's the need to simplify. I say 'reluctantly' because I never really learn it. Instead I struggle through some works, finally arrive at something that seems satisfactory and is also much simpler than where I started. At that point I relearn the lesson that I ought to simplify. It works.

And yet sometimes you want to enlarge your experiences and start from new and bigger material. I think you also need to expand your horizons in order to grow. But when I do I always find that I'll eventually need to strip down and simplify the new material or the new way of working.

Not everyone of course loves simplicity. But for me it is the best way. I'm not sure that anyone would guess that from my work, but it is my own conclusion about it.

That said you may wonder about these two photos. Sort of a mess. Somewhat in need of simplification. Sure enough.

This watercolor and pencil sketch are based on some photos, and bad field sketches, I did of female and immature Wood Ducks along the Wissahickon this summer. I've always loved the light in the photo as well as the grouping of birds.

I'd like to make a linocut of this. I haven't yet decided whether or not there will be more than one color. Adding colors and carving reduction linocuts certainly ups the complexity.

I'll decide on that later. For now I'm experimenting with how I can take this subject and do it as a linocut, concentrating on line and contrast. You might say how could he make such a sloppy watercolor after the more detailed and controlled watercolor of the Yellow-rumps a few posts back? I can do it because I'm using watercolor more like a lino, trying to concentrate on lines and contrast.

I admit it's rough. But it is intentional. I'm trying to simplify the scene so that it will work as a linocut. I imagine there's still a lot of simplificaton that awaits me. But I thought it might be interesting to see the steps on the way to what I hope will be a successful linocut.

As an aside I'd also like my linocut style to leak back into my watercolors. I'd like to have bolder, more abstract watercolors. This means that I'll do less of the more subtle, detailed ones like the Yellow-rumps. There's nothing wrong with such work, and I'm happy with that painting. But I think my personal tastes runs toward something more bold and lively.

Some Backgound, Or Not

Birds live in an environment, not in the idealized frame of a painting or drawing. So I've never been that fond of bodiless bird 'portraits' or bird 'vignettes', where they're centered on the page with a vague background that disappears into blank paper as it nears the edge of the frame. Consciously or not I think most artists who use birds as subjects, or even animals in general, make a decision about a background.

Should I use one? Should it be so detailed as to almost conflict with the primary subject but nonetheless be true to how the bird actually exists? Should it be something that's generalized from something real? Should instead the pattern of marks, patterns, colors, values in the painting become as important as the subject itself? Many questions and many individual answers.

Recently I've been trying harder to include a background that is representative of the one that my bird subjects live in. That was true in the Blue-winged Teals of my last post. But today, after I'd finished painting this American Oystercatcher, I just couldn't see how a background would do anything but detract from this. Sometimes you do a simple work, that seems to get the essence of what you're trying to portray. Then any addition seems extraneous and distracting. That was the case here.