Running To and From Line

White-eyed Vireo Mokuhanga. 9x12 inches on Torinoko paper. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

 

I sometimes mention that I've been an abstract painter most of my life, though as I'm now in year 19 of naturalistic art and year 10 or more of printmaking that is starting to change. In any case in my artistic memory I remember when the only thing in my mind was pushing paint around and not paying as much attention to line. However drawing, which is primarily line, has also always been important to me.

It has seemed particularly important to me as a naturalistic artist, perhaps because there's more of a desire to capture the contour of things. In any case some types of printmaking lend themselves to line, like etching, engraving and perhaps lithography. And some do not. Carving into sometimes recalcitrant wood to produce a line is not the same as whipping a sumi brush pen across a piece of paper. One flows and the other doesn't.

Mokuhanga lends itself to shapes and color, but not really to painterly color. And though the expert professional carvers of the ukiyo-e period were incredibly accomplished in the sensitivity of the lines they could carve I certainly am not. And I think much contemporary mokuhanga, at least that I've seen in US, seems to favor shape and color over line. This is not at all surprising. Carving wood and getting sensitive, sinuous lines is quite difficult!!

My first notice of mokuhanga was contemporary work and that work focused on color and shape. I switched from linoleum block printing to mokuhanga partially due to my desire to abandon the oil-based solvents of so much of the ink I was using in linoleum  block printing but also because I thought the colors of linoleum block couldn't begin to compare with the richness of the water-based color of mokuhanga prints.

Though I struggled mightily trying to learn mokuhanga on my own I immediately saw the rich color possibilities. But I also felt I wanted line in my work. I not only wanted it; I needed it. There had to be a counterpoint to the rich color areas! Just one problem: I didn't have sufficient carving skills to do that to my satisfaction. Much of my earlier moku hanga tried to find a way.

Yellow-throated Warbler. Sumi brush pen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

Yellow-rumped Warbler Eating Poison-Ivy Berries. Sumi brush pen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

Willow Flycatcher. Sumi brushpen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski

Willow Flycatcher. Sumi brushpen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski

Warbling Vireo. Sumi brushpen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

White-eyed Vireo. Sumi brush pen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken  Januski.

Often at the beginning of the year, probably because of often uninviting outdoor weather, I end up looking at the photographs I've taken over the year, taken for documentary reasons not artistic. I hate working from photos and rarely do. But this year I decided to work in sumi brush pen, wash from a waterbrush, and possibly watercolor as I looked through my thousands of photos. I really only wanted to notate ideas that the photos prompted in me. The fluidity of the brushpen, the ease with drawing washes out of their ink and the impossibility of erasure all gave me what I wanted: a quick sketch! The more I've done these, either in the field, or in my studio working from photos, the more I like them. They don't really remind me of photos but they're close enough to the subject portrayed to give me ideas about how to develop them in mokuhanga, or more rarely watercolor.

Again though there is that problem of line!!!! How could I get the same, often thin, sinous line from carved wood? Finally I decided to use the White-eyed Vireo sketch as the  source of a mokuhanga. I sharpened all my chisels, cut more deeply and cleared out more deeply than ever before, and hoped for the best.

I am happy with my newest mokuhanga, at top, of the White-eyed Vireo. It has given me the bold line that to me just seems necessary to balance the rich color of mokuhanga. This print has also given me the confidence to consider some mokuhanga using warblers as subject, something I don't recall that I've done in print in many, many years.

White-throated Sparrow Mokuhanga

 

Most of the printed edition of 'White-throated Sparrow at Houston Meadow' mokuhanga. Copyright 2024 by Ken Januski.

I have finally finished an edition of a new mokuhanga print, 'White-throated Sparrow at Houston Meadow.' After years of just showing a closely cropped view of just one print I've recently gotten in the habit of showing part of the printed edition of my moku hanga instead. I'm doing that because so much of the technical effort that goes into each print goes into printing an edition with all prints looking more or less identical. This is quite different than the creative energy that goes into creating a print whose visual appearance I'm happy with. It is completely against my nature and goes against all my artistic training, which was as a painter not a printmaker, to worry about the similarity of each print.  Because I spend a tremendous amount of time and effort coming up with a print I'm happy with it seems counterproductive, if not actually unenjoyable, to print an edition. But it does give me something tangible to show for all the effort and also allows me to sell more of them at lower prices. I also just take some pleasure in showing that I've become accomplished enough technically to actually print an edition. That wasn't always the case! And I think anyone who does want to see a larger view of just one print should be able to zoom in on this edition photo.

The new print is based on my looking at and sketching White-throated Sparrows over the last few years. I think I have some field sketches from 2023 but I didn't find them in a quick search so instead I'm showing this sumi brushpen this  sketch of a White-throated Sparrow from 2022.  It is nothing spectacular but I enjoy it and most of my quick sumi brushpen field sketches. Because they are done with live birds I have to concentrate on what I'm seeing since they can leave or move at any moment. And using the sumi brushpen forces me to simplify. Almost unconsciously I very quickly decide what to concentrate on and start there. So for me these sketches often have an electricity to them that I like. 

 

Sumi brush pen and wash field sketch of White-throated Sparrow and Yellow-rumped Warbler, Copyright 2022 by Ken Januski.

Someone might ask why I bother to spend so much time looking at birds in the field and sketching them in the field and then don't worry too much about accuracy in the actual prints. To put it simply I don't think birds or anything needs to be put in a photographic straight jacket. I like to be able to understand birds, both their appearance and their behavior, but my goal as an artist is to interpret all of that through my own artistic sensibilities and artistic abilities.  If I were doing traditional wildlife art or illustration I might be more interested in more classic field sketching. But I'm not. When I look at my more classical sketches from when I first started, excepting the many that were complete failures, I may like them but they don't inspire me to make a painting or print based on them. In the end I think all the looking and the brushpen field sketches get me to see the artistic possibilities in a bird, the things that I think might make a striking painting or print.

 

Watercolor and sumi brushpen sketch of White-throated Sparrow. Copyright 2023 by Ken Januski.

I also have done some watercolor sketches based on photos I've taken. My intent is to both  explore the bird further and, I hope, to end up with a sketch I'm happy with.  I often accomplish the first goal but rarely the second. So in the works from photos both above and below I'm really not happy with the finished work. But in both I explored something that I had noticed in much of my viewing of the bird in the field, perhaps the striping on the mantle, perhaps the underside coloring, etc., etc. There is so much to see in birds that is far more interesting than identification characteristics.

Sumi brushpen and watercolor sketch of White-throated Sparrow at Houston Meadow. Copyright 2023 by Ken Januski.

Oddly enough the little watercolor sketch above led me to the digital painting below. That in turn served as the basis for the new print. I think that it is all the transmogrifications that take place, from field sketch, to watercolor sketch from photo, to digital painting and perhaps back again that makes me feel that I've gotten far enough away from the bird and especially from any photo of the bird that it is relatively easy to feel free to make any changes that I think make sense artistically. I do not want to be limited by the bird or any other subject, though I also want to make sure that I am still in some way true to it. That is where all the looking at birds in field comes in. I think it gives me a pretty good intuitive sense of what they should look like.

Digital sketch using Procreate on iPad of White-throated Sparrow at Houston Meadow. Copyright 2024 by Ken Januski.

The watercolor sketch below is a quick watercolor sketch from a photo of a White-throated Sparrow. Most of ny watercolor sketches are quick. I don't like labored watercolors. But as a consequence they are also often unsuccessful. Such is the case with this. Still it was one more step along the way to getting what to me is a successful mokuhanga. I am quite happy with it in the two fields which it inhabits: bird art and mokuhanga. I can't ask for more than that.

 

Watercolor sketch of White-throated Sparrow. Copyright 2023 by Ken Januski.

Continuity of Medium or Continuity of Subject

Bobolink at Dixon Meadow Preserve. Moku Hanga by Ken Januski. Copyright 2022.

Though I've been finished with the moku hanga above of Bobolink at Dixon Meadow above for quite a while and am almost finished with a new one, Nashville Warbler on Bean Trellis in Winter, proofs of which are below, I haven't written about them or shown them here.

There's a simple reason: I didn't know what to say. Given my occasional loquacity that might be hard for some to believe. I suppose it might also be related to not wanting to repeat myself. In any case I've been happy with my recent moku hanga prints but I just haven't known what to say about them. I think that they should speak for themselves.

 

Nashville Warbler on Bean Trellis in Winter. Moku Hanga proofs by Ken Januski. Copyright 2022.

At the same time I've also been doing field sketches of birds,  almost all of them about 3x5 inches big and none I think taking more than five minutes. It may be that it's trying to find a link between them and my moku hanga that has stymied me. They are such different methods.

Even my prints have shown different methods, some being more concerned with line and carving like these two recent ones, but some if not most also being concerned with design, color, texture, etc. In the Nashville Warbler print I've gotten involved with texture, something that I've previously ignored to a large extent in moku hanga. Oddly one reason I started with moku hanga is that I liked the flat color that could be created with it. Now I no longer, at least temporarily, want that flat color. Who knew?

And yet these are all somewhat formal concerns and that in fact unites them in a way. That is not at all true with field sketches. In them I'm trying to capture the likeness of a living being that is right in front of me and may bolt at any minute. That is not formal at all. I still make some formal decisions in the few minutes I spend on these but that is a minor concern. My main concern is capturing the living thing that is right in front of me, not just in terms of shape and markings but probably more in terms of movement and liveliness. I like these sketches to look alive, something that more developed sketches, particularly from photos, often lack. I will take liveliness over detail any day.

But for all that is still hard to connect them with my prints, though often my prints are based on them.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of  Blue Jay by Ken Januski.  Copyright 2022.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of Eastern Phoebe by Ken Januski. Copyright 2022

Sumi brush pen field sketch of female Northern Cardinal that appeared outside my studio window.Copy right 2022 by Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of Palm Warbler, the first seen this year. Copyright 2022 by Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketches of Tufted Titmouse by Ken Januski. Copyright 2022.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of Yellow-rumped Warbler seen today at Houston Meadow. Copyright 2022 by Ken Januski.

Because I often switch media, or often styles within the same medium, I may look a bit flighty or at least not committed to a particular medium, such as moku hanga. I have wondered about this. And I've decided that my commitment is to a subject, the natural world in particular birds.

During my formal artistic education the last thing I wanted was subject matter. I could be pretty ruthless in making sure that there was none, not even any vague reference to something from the physical world. But over time I decided that this was just silly. You have just as much artistic freedom with a subject as without one, and all in all I think subject matter both makes the art more interesting and more rewarding.

So my art may lack much continuity of medium over the last 10-15 years. But it has a very strong continuity of subject and I'm perfectly happy with that.

Some Thoughts on Art and Birds

Pencil Sketches of Blue-headed Vireo. Copyright 2020 Ken Januski

Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketches of Great Blue Heron. Copyright 2020 by Ken Januski

Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketches of Great Blue Heron. Copyright 2020 by Ken Januski

Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketches of Wilson's Snipe. Copyright 2020 by Ken Januski

Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketches of Wilson's Snipe. Copyright 2020 by Ken Januski

Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketches of Wilson's Snipe. Copyright 2020 by Ken Januski

Pencil Sketches of Yellow-rumped Warblers. Copyright 2020 Ken Januski

I've been thinking about writing about the annual exhibit of  The Society of Wildlife Artist's, 'The Natural  Eye,' for some time now. Since I've participated in it many times but am not a member I don't feel right about writing about  it. On the other hand it's the one exhibit I spend a lot of effort trying to get into each year because I like the work so much. As I've said many times it's thrilling to see my work with the work of so many artists whom I admire. Though I have to say, until I and Jerene actually went to the show in London the excitement was still somewhat tempered. It's one thing to admire work online. It's  quite another to be standing in front of, and surrounded  by it.

I've been in a lot of shows, both group and solo, though far fewer of the latter than the former. These were almost all when I did abstract work. Once I switched to representational art, I think  about 2006, I didn't really try to  get into many group shows, and with the exception of  'The Natural Eye'  and group shows at a local art center I belonged to  I didn't get into any  competitive juried shows I did apply for. I'm pretty sure  why. Wildlife art is not  considered serious art in the US. I feel confident saying  that. Though I'm not Robert Bateman's biggest fan, the fact that, unless things have changed recently, he's never been shown in a major Canadian museum says a lot. With the possible exception of Carl Rungius I'm not sure how many major American museums  have ever shown any wildlife art. I suppose some fishing scenes from Winslow  Homer, a John Singer Sargent alligator and a few others. But in the 20th century and later it's just not considered real art. ( I'm ignoring any possible contemporary artists who use an ironic  take on wildlife art and therefore might possibly be shown, because irony in itself discounts the subject it portrays).

I know I'm taking a while  to  get to the point..... The recent sketches above, some from life, others based on looking into the viewfinder of my camera to sketch from the small images of photos there show  I think how far I've come in actually being able to  draw birds. Though  I'm sure most people will say that they agree with that much more with the pencil sketches from photos than with the sumi brush pen sketches from life. But trust me they are much better than when I started about 15 years ago.

But even if  they showed twice or maybe even 10 times as much improvement as they do  there would still be a big problem. How do you make a finished work of art out of a sketch?  How do you make a painting? How do you make a print? How do you  make either a painting or a print as ambitious as the old abstract paintings I used to do? How  do you, based on these sketches, do something that both galleries and museums would be willing to show? How do you make art that is taken seriously  and not just  considered cute?

Just about the first thing I realized when I started drawing and painting birds, outside of how little I actually knew about what they looked like even though I'd birded for at least 20 years at that point, was  that they just can't sit by themselves in the middle of  a canvas. I could make a portrait like that, and did try to  do so, but what was I supposed to put around the bird? Impressionistic marks that might hopefully make it look like  they fit in perfectly with the bird to make a final composition?  A vignette like fading into nothingness around the bird? Sad to say, I realized that I had to contend with the environment in which they lived. Sad, I say because that meant not only did  I have  to learn more about drawing and painting birds but I also had to learn more about drawing and painting the various environments in which they  lived.

But at the same time I didn't want a lot of stultifying detail, especially something reminiscent of that based on a faithful detailed rendering of  a photo. That work did  and still does make me very nervous. Though some people can breathe a sense of life into it, perhaps because they actually are familiar with birds and their environment, most artists do not. One of  the other things I learned very on is that I didn't  at all want my work to look like that! Stultifying! After all the subject was alive, very alive and that was part of the point of even using them as a subject.

So................. that finally brings me to one of  my main points. What a complete revelation it was to discover The Society of Wildlife Artists! What exciting art, all based on wildlife! This is a link to the current show, which will open on 10.28.20: https://www.mallgalleries.org.uk/whats-on/exhibitions/natural-eye-2020. In case it's not evident, I'm fortunate  enough to be in it, and have actually pre-sold one of  the unframed prints.

I'm a bit used to seeing the show now, having exhibited 7-8 times over  the last 10 years or so, but it is  still very exciting. The link I posted shows much of the work, though of course it is without the context of a gallery so you can't  see the size, texture, etc., etc. That just adds to the excitement of the show.

I'm not going to say a whole lot about it. But I mention the problems I had when I started  making bird/wildlife art because this show I think is often the answer to those  problems. It shows lively art, lively both in terms of the subjects and environment portrayed, but also lively artistically. All of  this art could easily be  shown in a museum if museums were alert enough to realize its vitality and power.

If you look at my sketches above you can see what a far cry they are  from most  of the work in the show, though some  have a similar simplicity. But many artists want to be able to make something more finished or perhaps more ambitous and yet also want to keep it  from becoming stultified. I think most people who read this and  who  also look at the show  will see that's there is very little that is stultifying. Particularly  as a whole the show is vital, the exact opposite of  stultifying.

And yet it  is also not  at all monolithic. There is  a great variety of subject matter, media, formal methods and imagination. The name of this blog, actually named  before  it  even was a blog if I recall correctly, is  ArtBirdsNature. My idea was that all are equally important and that they can reinforce and bring out  the best in each other. That I think is what 'The Natural Eye' does. I wish there was a similar  show in the US. I also hope you'll enjoy looking at the work, and perhaps  even buying some, in the online  gallery.
 

More Sora and Rail

Sora, Virginia Rail and Mallard. Sumi brush painting by Ken Januski.

Sometimes I seem to want to go fairly deeply ( I will not say 'deep dive' thank you very much) into a subject. That's been the case with sora and rails recently. I can't explain it other than the desire to get familiar enough with them that I think I can eventually do a fairly spontaneous work with them as subject. Today's newest foray is seen above, a sumi brush pen and ink painting of a Sora, Virginia Rail and Mallard, all seen a few weeks ago at 'The Meadows' of Cape May, NJ.

Every time I return to sumi brush painting I'm reminded of how extremely little I know about it, how low my skill level is, but also how much I love the rich tonalities and vigorous brushwork that it can allow. I'm using an extremely old sumi ink, one bought back in San Francisco when I was a student and my guess is that the lack of true black in this painting is at least partially due to the quality of the ink. Once of these days I need to buy a better ink stick.

Sora at Heinz NWR. Watercolor by Ken Januski.

I've also been experimenting with more detailed works and you can see them above and below. They are both based on photos of Sora at Heinz NWR that I took last year. Both are in watercolor.

Sora at Heinz NWR, version 2. Watercolor by Ken Januski.

Sora at Heinz NWR. Watercolor sketch by Ken Januski.

Before I started the watercolors I did a quick watercolor sketch, seen above, and a couple more ballpoint pen studies. But there are only so many ballpoint pen studies I can do. At some point they just get too frustrating to me and I need to move to a looser medium.

Sora at Heinz NWR. Ballpoint pen sketch by Ken Januski.

And speaking of loose media, the sumi brush or sumi brush pen may be among the loosest. The synthetic brush pen, used below, seems to me to be mainly a linear medium. You can't use it like a sumi brush and ink to get both line AND tone. But that also means that mistakes, generally impossible to correct, jump out at you and the viewer. But the feeling of spontaneity that it allows is well worth the risk involved.

Sora at Heinz NWR. Sumi brush pen sketch by Ken Januski.

Comparative Success Rate in Prints and Watercolors

Seaside Sparrow and Marsh Wren at Jake's Landing. Watercolor and Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

An odd title for a blog on art right? It sounds more like some sort of scientific study. But I was knocked over the head by my high failure rate with watercolors when I looked through all of my old ones in preparation for a small sidewalk show at Morris Arboretum on June 19, 2016. I plan to mainly show my linocuts and woodcuts but thought I should show some watercolors too, especially since so many have been based on birds and/or dragonflies seen at Morris.

Unlike many artists I don't rip up unsuccessful paintings and prints part way through in utter disgust. But it's easy to understand the impulse. Sometimes things just go horribly wrong on the way from intent to finished art work. As I looked through my storage box of watercolors though I realized that about 90% still looked bad. There were at least 125 of them and that doesn't include the 100s of additional watercolor sketches, works that were more quickly done with less focus on the finished product. I was tempted to ask why I continue with watercolor.

At the same time I'd been going through all of my linocuts and woodcuts. Though there were a few that were very disappointing, often where my ambition far outstripped my abilities the vast majority were successful. At least to me it looks like I know what I'm doing with prints whereas that's often not the case with watercolor, especially when I try to do a more expressive and spontaneous watercolor.

But that is in fact the rub. Watercolor when done well is one of the most expressive media, especially when it comes to light and the sense of fluidity and spontaneity. Trying to get some of that keeps drawing me back in spite of my numerous disappointments.

That said I'm always looking for a personal way to use watercolor, just as I do with printmaking. The recent works on this page are two examples. Above is a sumi brush pen and watercolor painting of a Seaside Sparrow and Marsh Wren both seen at Jakes Landing near Cape May, NJ over the last two Mays. Below is another painting using the same media. It shows four very active American Oystercatchers seen at 'The Meadows' in Cape May last week.

American Oystercatchers at 'The Meadows'. Watercolor and Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

Both of these paintings are very loosely done, and due to a large extent to all the lines from the brush pen, look somewhat cartoonish. For many viewers I'm sure that this detracts from their appeal. Where is the detail, where is the subtlety? Well the fact is I just don't enjoy that type of work, certainly in my own work, though I can enjoy it in others. I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing here but I think some of it comes from a desire to show the liveliness of both the birds and their environment, to show a sense of animation, just as you see in many cartoons. Additionally this method and these media seem to lend themselves to studies for prints. So I think eventually some of this type of work will end up as a linocut or woodcut. And my guess is that, at least to me, they will seem successful.

Brush Painting and Brush Pen Painting

Adult and Juvenile Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. Brush Painting by Ken Januski.

I continue on my seemingly never-ending digression into Chinese brush painting and painting with a Sumi brush pen. I had originally tried a brush pen last summer because I wanted to experiment with line weight and shape in my woodcuts and linocuts, a la ukiyo-e woodblocks.

I soon found though that to create variety in line weight and shape using a brush requires a mastery far beyond me. I had to just stumble along. In the process I got more and more interested in brush painting itself, though more in the Chinese tradition than in the Japanese surprisingly.

As I looked more at Chinese brush painting in particular I appreciated how often rich almost coloristic paintings could be made with just the black ink of an ink stick and various amounts of water. But this then becomes much more of a painting than a drawing, as much or more about areas of ink as lines of ink.

The two drawings at top, both done today, have Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers as their subject. The one on the left is an adult male. The one on the right is the far less colorful immature sapsucker. But the richness of color, especially the dirty dishwater 'yellow' belly, is what convinced me to use a brush, with its various values of black and gray, rather than just line. I almost certainly will never use what I've learned in a print, mainly because it is so painterly. But the beauty of ink washes was just too much to resist.

In the western tradition artists as varied as Rembrandt and Richard Diebenkorn were masters of wash drawings, and I've always loved them. It is amazing what you can do with black and white and gray!!

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher at Bartram's Garden. Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

Most of my work of the last week or more however has been done with a brush pen. Here line is king and it is very useful to force yourself to see birds or any other object strictly in terms of line. I do think this type of linear drawing is at the heart of most art of most cultures. Because ink is so unforgiving you either have to get the line right the first time or find some convincing way to either repair it or make it seem unimportant. This type of drawing can be a bit nerve-wracking since it is so easy to make mistakes. But it also forces you to take chances, to force yourself a bit further than you want to go. I've never been a big believer in the True Art Involves Taking Chances philosophy but in moderation it is often both useful and invigorating. Above the subject is a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher seen at Bartram's Garden.

The rest of the brush pen drawings below are pretty well explained by their captions. Most are done in less than five minutes. This is almost inevitable when you're using a brush pen. The lines move incredibly quickly and if you let your pen rest on the paper you'll soon have a blob rather than a crisp line. So the drawings/paintings move very quickly.

Snowy Egret at Jake's Landing. Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

Spotted Sandpiper. Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

In the drawing above I've tried to capture something that I always notice when looking at Spotted Sandpipers, their relatively thick and blunt bill. That's really all I was trying to show here, along with the combined horizontal lines of the front leg and the back underside of the bird. Sometimes something as simple as that seems worthwhile trying to get down on paper.

Juvenile Tri-colored Herons at Heinz NWR. Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

FOY Warbling Vireo in Paperbark Birch. Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski

Above I was interested in showing how the first of year Warbling Vireo was making a very common bird movement, wiping the side of his bill on a branch. If you've seen many birds you'll realize how common this is. As well I like the visual element of all the catkins and tried to capture that.

In the drawing below my only real goal was to try to capture the oversized legs of the Willet. I think I was successful at that but I made the torso itself a bit short and out of proportion. Still it looks like a Willet and so I decided to show it.

Willet at Reed's Beech. Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

Wilson's Snipe at Ottawa NWR. Brush Pen Painting by Ken Januski.

Finally one of a number of Wilson's Snipe seen on some cold and wet days at Ottawa NWR a couple of falls ago right before thecongressional Republicans shut down the government and the nation's wildlife refuges. I do remember that Mr.'TrustTed' Cruz!

End of a Sketchbook, Continuing Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor

Turkey Vulture and Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

I'd guess it was a year or so ago that I vowed to try to do more field sketches during the coming year. I do 90% of them in a Moleskine sketchbook, mainly because that is the one sketchbook that fits comfortably in  my back pants pocket. Over the last 5 plus years it has taken me about 14 months on average to fill one up, even though there are only about 100 small pages, counting each side of the paper as a separate page. But the last one took much longer. Thus my post about trying to do better this year.

BUT guess what? Above are the last two pages of the sketchbook. On the left a Turkey Vulture with Ruby-throated Hummingbird below, an actual scene at the Manayunk Canal last week. On the right a Ruby-throated Hummingbird at our trumpet honeysuckle in the backyard, done from memory.

And it's almost 14 months since I started the sketchbook. I think if I hadn't switched to the sumi brush pen for most of my sketches it would have taken at least another month to finish. I do intend to continue with the brush pen though so maybe the next sketchbook will fill up more quickly. I guess another possible solution is to make sure that I don't take a camera with me!

Turkey Vulture and Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Painting by Ken Januski.
 

Though the sketchbook pages at top are different scenes I liked the way that they fit together. So I tried a new 12x16 sumi brush pen and watercolor painting based on them, though it's not all that likely that the trumpet honeysuckle would be growing in this environment. I also changed the hummingbird to one based on a photo I took a few years ago. I was reluctant to use it because though it showed many aspects of the hummingbird that I wanted to show it also had an odd perspective on the foreground wing. On the other hand it showed the fingers of the wing pivoting in a different direction that the rest of the wing, something that happens, though too fast to see, in most birds. So though I knew it might be very hard to read correctly I decided to try it anyway. I'm not quite sure it worked but nothing ventured nothing gained.

I'm not thrilled with this painting but I do like the combination of subjects. As I've written in the past, and a propos the recent John Busby quote, I often find that my best prints are ones based on unlikely scenes such as this, often rendered initially in a rather crude way. But the important part is not the detail, it is the entire scene.

Photographic detail is rarely enough of an emotional stimulus to prompt a painting or print for me. To me it's sort of like watching TV and hoping to be inspired. A portrayal of an actual scene, though, even if crudely done, often has enough emotional resonance for inspiration. At least in my book(ALIMB).

Return of the Common Yellowthroat - In Nature and on Paper

Common Yellowthroat on Birch Tree at Houston Meadows. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Painting by Ken Januski.

About a month ago we ran into some Friends of the Wissahickon Trail Ambassadors. One of them asked if the Common Yellowthroats, which always seem so common at Houston Meadows, were scarcer this year. I said I didn't think so. But when I saw eight of them yesterday I had to reconsider. That is far more than I saw most of the summer. Were these migrants? Or were they maybe the offspring of the birds that had bred there just now making themselves more evident?

I really don't know. Perhaps we thought that there were a lot there but we mainly saw them in May and the early fall and didn't realize that they were scarce in July and August. I'm not sure. In any case I was struck by them and vowed to do at least one sumi brush pen field sketch. It is below, along with a Great Blue Heron seen along the Manayunk Canal recently.

Great Blue Heron and Common Yellowthroat. Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

I've done a fair number of sumi brush pen and watercolor paintings this summer, pretty much to the exclusion of everything else. I thought that maybe I'd get back to prints after the 'Confusing Fall Warblers' sumi brush pen and watercolor painting. But I wanted to try out the Common Yellowthroat in Birches in those media.

It may require some handcuffs on my wrists but I'm going to try my best not to do any more work on the painting. I'm always seeking to keep watercolors fresh, and then always managing to make them darker and muddier as I tweak them. I've already done a bit of that. But I'm going to do my best to leave this just as is.

I think it will also work as a print. But I'm not sure right now whether I really will turn back to prints or just keep on with the sumi brush pen and watercolor. Why quit while I'm ahead?!

Confusing Fall Warblers, And Vireos

Warblers and Vireos at Morris Arboretum. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Painting by Ken Januski.
 

I ran into a large number of migrating warblers and vireos at Morris Arboretum last Saturday. But I had hardly any satisfying views of any of them. Some, for example a Blackburnian, were just too high in some Tamaracks to see well. Others were down low, right at eye level, but they were so active and there was so much foliage that again it was very difficult to get a good look at any of them.

The 12x16 painting above gives some sense of that. A Nashville Warbler in the lower right corner was the best seen bird, with the possible exception of the Warbling Vireo in the top right corner. The other were just yellow blurs, or a tail with black edging, perhaps fluttering wings.  Some of the quick looks were tantalizing, for instance the largish yellow bird at center top, but as soon as they were seen they flew behind other foliage.

Most likely the yellow bird was a Canada Warbler, especially as we've seen one at Morris two other times during the last week. But I can't say for sure.

Because of all of this uncertainty I decided to paint just that: uncertainty.  So I'm not trying to portray a recognizable species at center top. Instead it's reminiscent of what I saw. The fluttering wing at lower left and tail at top left don't indicate specific species. They represent instead the real experience that you can easily have at this time of year. Uncertain clues, here and gone before you know it. But that is the thrill of looking for warblers and their sometime companion vireos at this time of year.

This is another in my series of sumi brush pen and watercolor paintings. All but the Nashville warbler are drawn from memory. I used some of my own photos of Nashville Warblers as a minor reference. But in it also I tried to keep it free as in a drawing from memory.

The Transformative Cliche

Great Blue Heron in Tree, Red-tailed Hawk and Ruby-throated Hummingbird at Honeysuckle. Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

I want to nudge the birdwatcher into a wide-eyed frame of mind, and to be open to ways of watching which will greatly enhance the time they spend looking at birds. It takes a while to unscramble the filters that our brain puts on everything we look at. When we do, we experience moments to savour that carry with them evocations of time and place that can transform our bird watching into poetry.

John Busby, LOOKING AT BIRDS: An antidote to Field Guides.

I was struck by this quote from the late John Busby as I leafed through the first few pages of his latest book, in particular the part about transforming bird watching into poetry. I guess I would also say it is about transforming sketching into visual poetry. It is much more than just getting the details right.

I hate to use the word transform since it seems to be one of the great clichés of the last few years. We have transformative politicians, transformative technology, etc., etc. Only time will tell just how transformative anything really is. Remember the New Economy?

But when I read this small section about transforming bird watching into poetry it made perfect sense to me. There is a way of looking at the experience of birding that can be much more than just a tick on a list. Pete Dunne wrote the same thing recently by saying that he was not a lister. And then the bulk of the article was about his own personal list of interesting experiences he's had while birding.  His list is called a journal.

What I think both Busby and Dunne are getting at is that capturing the actual experience, especially when it is more than just finding a bird you haven't seen before, can be memorable. And your personal connection to it can change it into poetry or its visual equivalent, art.

Juvenile American Robin with Grasshopper. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

I had also been thinking about this because of my recent field sketches. For some reason I just haven't felt like trying to get down the details, even in the abbreviated manner of 'getting down the details' that I use. Instead I keep going for very quick sumi brush pen sketches. Everything portrayed here was either done in the field or when I got home from my memory of something I'd seen. None of these rely on photos or guide books. AND it shows! No doubt about it. What in the world is in the mouth of the Robin above?

This was an interesting experience because I saw something moving low along the ground today along the Manayunk Canal. It was so low and seemed to be moving in such a straight direction that I assumed I'd eventually find a rabbit or some other 4-legged animal. Instead I found a juvenile American Robin, poking at a large grasshopper. I guess he was following him along the ground and thus looked more reminiscent of a rabbit than a bird. In any case I just tried to remember what the grasshopper looked like, not that I really saw it well, and it has turned out as somewhat of a mess.

But that's not all that important. What is important is that I've gotten down the experience. It was enjoyable in itself and it also, now that I've visualized it on paper, might prompt me to do a more developed painting or drawing. Though I enjoy more realistic field sketches I find that they rarely lead to other work for me. I'm sure that I incorporate the knowledge gained in some way. But they rarely lead to a painting or print. They are learning  experiences, but they are learning about what something looks like and how to represent that on paper.

They are not about creating poetry. The final sumi brush pen sketches below are a bit more interested in getting down what I saw, for instance the shape of the black facial marking on a Sora. But by using the sumi  brush pen I can't be very realistic. This shows up even more I think in the Tri-colored Heron. It is almost nothing. And yet it does, at least for me, capture what I saw. It also has enough freshness to it that it might spark my interest in doing something more developed from it.

Sora, Tricolored Heron, Acadian Flycatcher. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

I have conflated two ideas here, John Busby's notion of another more rewarding way of birding, and my own sumi brush pen drawings from life or memory. But I think that they are closely tied together. And I'd encourage any birder to read his last book. It is very simple but also very fresh.