It's Not an Illusion

Willow Flycatcher in Swamp Dogwood. Two block Reduction Woodcut by Ken Januski.

As I look through my older prints, as well as my other work and the work of others that I admire, I often think about whether or not I want to create an illusion of reality, or maybe even just the illusion of a photograph, since many people think that reality and photography are the same. I've done work that is more illusionistic, though it rarely looks like a photo. And I can often admire such work, both by contemporary artists and older ones.

But I've pretty much decided that this is not the route I want to take. If I were more of a plein aire painter I would perhaps think differently. In that case the illusion I might try to create might be more in reaction to what is right in front of me and actually all around me, not just to the flat surface of a photo. But though I do field sketches I don't work plein aire. When I do my work from photos my skin starts getting prickly, as though I'm allergic to it.

So for me I've come to think that I'm best off working somewhat in the manner of this newest, two-block reduction woodcut. It is representational but it is not illusionistic. Just the color block by itself, before being overprinted by the black block and all its lines, looked somewhat illusionistic, more like a painting, and was appealing to me. I felt that to a certain extent I'd captured the diffuse light. But it wasn't the way I wanted to go. So I added the last black block, just as I'd intended to all along. I think this has created a more graphic, almost iconic image. That's neither good nor bad. But it seems to be the way that I want to go and the way that seems most fruitful to me. I suppose it is that impulse that also convinced me to change my cover photo recently to the woodblock print of a Gray Catbird guarding his walnuts. And just yesterday I saw another Gray Catbird in the middle of the road, seemingly as imperious as could be, daring a car to come near him. That reminded me of one of the reasons that I like my Gray Catbird woodblocks. I believe that they capture, from at least one perspective, the experience of seeing a Gray Catbird.

Illusion can be great but sometimes you just feel like something different.

This woodcut by the way probably took longer than any print I've ever done, even the 9-10 color reduction linocut of the Blackburnian Warbler at Magee Marsh. It wasn't really that complicated. But I felt like I needed to keep proofing different colors until I got the ones I wanted. And then I spent a week or two figuring out how to get a final black that printed full and rich and not splotchy. It's at moments like that that I wonder why in the world I ever got involved with such a technical medium!

Slow Progess, Hopefully Good, on a Woodcut

I have deliberately slowed down the number of posts I make on this blog. This began last year I think but has really become evident in 2016. It's been almost a month since I last posted. The main reason for that is that though I like to write, I'm not sure that many readers of this blog like to read. In general it seems to be a world of pictures rather than words. It sometimes seems as though words, like politicians, are considered inherently untrustworthy. So we have a major presidential candidate who thinks that mindless tweets constitute considered positions. And people like it!

I probably wouldn't have gotten distracted by this theme of words versus pictures if I hadn't wanted to use the word 'progress' in the title. That reminded me of one of my many pet peeves regarding current language use. You can just about bet that if you hear anyone use the word 'progress' as a noun today that it will be preceded by 'good.' I shudder every time I hear this. Just what other type of progress is there? Bad?! If it's bad then why not call it what it really is, regression rather than progression? It reminds me, going forward I might add, that language today seems to be used in the pastiche method of bad architecture, where you really don't understand the meaning or context of the words or architectural styles you use but you like them anyway because they have some vague feeling that is pleasurable. I was shocked recently to be watching some soccer matches on television and hear the phrase 'going forward' used in an intelligent way. The ball in fact is 'going forward' down the field of play. For most people it seems to be used as a socially acceptable bauble to encrust just about every sentence. But perhaps I should say babble rather than bauble, or perhaps both. It reminds me of some home architecture, where Greek columms are added to just about any type of home. How about some Greek columns on that yurt? It will give your home a sense of class!

I suppose it is no surprise that such totally fuzzy thought and language use should bring about a candidate like Donald Trump. He fits the time perfectly. But I should add that I don't consider this a particularly partisan issue. Democrats are just as bad in their use of spin, fuzzy language and fuzzy thought. I recently saw a Democratic U.S. senate candidate produce nothing other than verbal spin. Oddly I had just seen her conservative Republican opponent, with whom I almost always disagree, ask thoughtful questions in s Senate hearing. So who should a responsible person vote for? The spinmeister or the person who at least seems to have a working brain, even if it so often comes to conclusions with which I disagree?

In any case I decided more than a year ago that I would keep this blog more visually oriented and also visually oriented through art that I'd done not through photos that I'd taken. Above is the newest proof of my two-block woodcut of a Willow Flycatcher. It combines a reduction color woodcut with the other side of the block printed only in black on top of the color print. It's an odd way of working but one that at least so far has proven fruitful for me. Because both sides of the block can change as I go along I never really have a clear idea as to what the final print will look like. I will only know when I'm done. Because it takes time to make all the decisions for matching up two blocks and because it takes time for each layer of ink to dry before I can print over it this has been a very lengthy print. But it is nearly done. So far all of these proofs are on copier paper though I've printed all but the last color on good paper. Now I just need to print the last color on the good paper, decide on the final carving of the black block and then print it on good paper. Below are the color block so far as well as the black block so far.

Back to Woodcuts, Again

Willow Flycatcher In Swamp Dogwood. Proof of Two Block Woodcut by Ken Januski.

So here it is with the unofficial start of summer(Memorial Day) and I've done just one print in 2016. Especially given what I said in last post about how much more successful I feel with prints than with watercolor it seems odd to have only done one.

There are a couple of answers. One is that migration starts in March and builds to a crescendo in May. Each day there is the siren call coming from outside suggesting I check to see what has arrived, as well as what is in bloom, what insects are also in flight, etc., etc. But more important in the paucity of prints I think is procrastination.

I've found a fairly easy way to experiment with watercolors, just do a small sketch on paper that is good but not so good as to be intimidating. That's the case with the Stillman and Birn sketchbooks as I've written before. So it is easy to make a non-committal foray. Though some people can do this with prints I'm sure, I haven't been able to. The few I've tried have looked exceptionally non-committal, too close to throwaway. The only print of 2016, the Black-crowned Night Heron with Yellowlegs and Short-billed Dowitcher was somewhat in this vein, but also successful.

Still prints can be intimidating. And that leads to planning, which can then lead to interminable procrastination. Should I do this, or should I do that? One of the great pleasures of printmaking, when I finally do resume it each time, is that I'm no longer in dialogue with myself. Instead the physical print has something to say, often pleasantly surprising me in some way or another, and all of a sudden things flow smoothly. To quote a cliché: The Possibilities Are Endless.

So now that I've proofed two colors on the woodcut above of a Willow Flycatcher in what I believe is Swamp Dogwood at Morris Arboretum I'm reminded again of how enjoyable printmaking can be once you actually get started printing, rather than just thinking (as with many things I suppose).

This is an early stage. It may be hard to believe but I intend this to be a light, bright print. But I wanted black lines to function as outlines more or less. Then I wanted a light brown gray for most of the flycatcher. But in printmaking you generally need to mix your own colors and so you don't necessarily get what you wanted. This turned out to me a dark gray-blue rather than a light gray-tan. That will eventually change but it's fine for early proofing.

Most of the rest will be yellow and green, at least that is my intention at the time. Of course the print will speak up soon enough and let me know how it foresees its future.

May You Be Forever Sketching

Willow Flycatchers. Sumi Brush Pen Sketches by Ken Januski.

As I was completing the two pages above in a Stillman and Birn Epsilon sketchbook yesterday I was thinking about how much I've been enjoying drawing recently, especially with the sumi brush pen. Then on the radio I heard a version of Bob Dylan's 'May You Stay Forever Young,' a song I've always very much liked. It seemed to parallel my feelings about sketching: may I and anyone else who likes to draw continue to do so. It is hugely rewarding.

Cedar Waxwing, Fish Crow, et al. Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

I mentioned on another post that many of these sumi sketches have been based on my own photos. I started somewhere near the beginning of my boxes of them, all alphabetically sorted. As you can see with the Willow Flycatchers above I'm reaching the end. There are no local birds whose names start with 'Z'. That just leaves 'Y', with all those Yellow Something-or-Other birds.

I've also tried to continue using the sumi brush pen when I'm out birding. It creates a line that is a little too large for the size of the sketchbook that I carry in my back pocket. But I'm getting better at being able to use finesse and sensitivity of touch to be able to work this small. Above a Cedar Waxwing and young Green Heron, both seen along the nearby Manayunk Canal, and a Fish Crow on telephone pole and as yet unidentified wasp on the flowers of our Mountain Mint, both seen while I sat in a chair in our backyard.

Grass Spider and Wasp, Ruby-throated Hummingbird, et al. Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

I spent about 10-15 minutes watching the scene above in our backyard, just a foot away from where I sat, through my Pentax Papilio Extreme Close-Focus Binoculars. (I'm not trying to name drop in this post but when a product works well, like Stillman and Birn sketchbooks, the Kuretake Sumi Brush Pen and the Pentax extreme close focus binoculars I'm happy to mention them in case others might want to use them. In fact I only know about the binoculars due to a talk by an accomplished local birder on Birding Beyond Birds, e.g. dragonflies, butterflies, etc. where he mentioned how good they were).

For the first time ever we've noticed a not of three-dimensional spider webs in our yard. They can be as deep as they are broad. As I watched the small wasp and the spider in the web I really couldn't figure out what was going on. Both were upside down. Was the wasp trapped and desperately trying to get out? If so why did he sometimes seem to approach the spider rather than vice versa? Was the web sticky, like most are? If so why did he seem to move so freely. As I watched it through the binoculars, mainly so I could see the spider better, I decided I might as well try to get it down on paper. That is the scene in upper left.

Later when I went inside I investigated and found that the spider is most likely a 'Grass Spider', one of many funnel spiders, whose webs are not sticky. This spider is also timid and will often run from whatever is in its web. Well that pretty well explains what I saw here. It is amazing how much there is to see in nature if you take the time to look.

Also on the page one of the visiting Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, feeding on the Monarda in the yard, and a Willow Flycatcher at Morris Arboretum, the same bird portrayed from photos at the top.

Whimbrel and White Ibis. Sumi Brush Pen Sketch by Ken Januski.

There is a big juried show coming up that I'm preparing to submit work for. No it is not Birds in Art. In any case as I continue to do sumi brush pen drawings from my photos I'm always thinking about which ones could be used for something more developed. Above are two pages of Whimbrel, seen in Cape May, NJ over the last few years, and an immature White Ibis seen at Heinz NWR in Philadelphia a number of years ago. I never know until I do the drawings which resulting drawing might convince me that it is the one to develop more. Time will tell. There are only a couple of weeks before submissions are due to I'll need to decide soon.

Common Whitetail., Killdeer, Great Blue Heron in Tree, et al.  Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

And finally a couple more small sketchbook pages of sumi brush pen sketches from life. Except for the Common Whitetail at top left, all of the images are from the Manayunk Canal a few days ago: another immature Green Heron, with nearby Killdeer, and three versions of a Great Blue Heron curled in various intriguing shapes up in a tree.

I realize that in switching from pen or pencil to sumi brush pen in my field sketches I'm losing a lot of detail. But I think I'm gaining life and/or animation as well as a greater concentration on the entire scene, all of which are helpful in doing a more developed painting or print. It's well worth it to me. And it probably has something to do with why I have a renewed excitement about the possibilities of drawing.

Flycatcher Time

Willow Flycatcher in Willow. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski

I'm not sure why but I've been taken with flycatchers for the last five years or more. While most birders are bored to death by the Acadian Flycatchers and Eastern Wood Pewees that seem to be ubiquitous at the nearby Wissahickon from mid-May until sometime in August I always try to see them when I hear them.

Because flycatchers, at least the ones that are normal in this part of the country, can be both similar and drab I like to be able to look at them and try to both see and portray their differences. I really can't say if my motivation is primarily artistic or primarily educational, i.e. learning how to easily differentiate them, especially if they're not singing.

A later arrival than the Acadian and the Pewee is the Willow Flycatcher, pictured above. As far as I can tell it is one of the very latest breeding birds to arrive, at least in northwest Philadelphia. Today I happened to get a good look for a couple of minutes in my scope while birding Morris Arboretum. Two field sketches are below. Unfortunately he flew before I could spend any time on the head.

I did spend a fair amount of time looking at it but never really studied how it fit the rest of the body. So the sketch on left page below is a bit off when it comes to the head. The small watercolor sketch above tries to combine the field sketches with knowledge gained from my many photos of Willow Flycatchers.

Of course none of them were in that exact position. So I spent quite a bit of time drawing the underlying pencil sketch in the hopes of getting a complete rendering based on the field sketches below.

This is another sketch in a Stillman and Birn Gamma sketchbook and I've pushed the paper as far as it will go in terms of holding numerous washes. So this is done. Perhaps another time I'll try another more developed watercolor on actual watercolor paper. Or perhaps I'll end up greatly abstracting this in a print. For now it's just one more attempt to put down on paper the subtle differences between our various eastern flycatchers.

One nice thing about sketching birds from life is that even what many would consider boring birds are always interesting, mainly because you realize how very much more there always is to learn. It is and endless, and rewarding, challenge.

Willow Flycatcher, Carolina Chickadee, Tree Swallow Gray Catbird. Field Sketches by Ken Januski.

Philadelphia Empidomax

Empidomax Flycatcher - Willow? Watercolor by Ken Januski

As we hurried out of the house yesterday to do our bluebird nest monitoring at Morris Arboretum before any rain started I was in such a rush that I forgot my sketchbook and drawing pens. So when this very active flycatcher kept dropping to the ground and back I had no drawing utensils other than the small notebook I use to list birds seen and one of my old Faber Castell Pitt Artists Pen, my previous pen of choice.

There was something puzzling about this flycatcher. It had what is called a teardrop shape eye, something not found in local flycatchers. He also flicked his tail occasionally but was obviously not an Eastern Phoebe, the best known local tail-flipping flycatcher. There was also a fairly obvious vest.

I noted all of this in the tiny sketch that I did. But when I got home I didn't refer to the sketch but instead tried a new sketch based on my memory. This is much progress for me - actually being able to retain a memory of a bird. I think this is due to hard looking and much practice.

Though I had brought along a number of Stillman and Birn sketchbooks on the trip to Magee Marsh I found that I only had time to use the one sketchbook that fit handily in my back pocket, a Moleskine. With more time and perseverance I would have gotten to the Stillman and Birn.

In any case yesterday I decided to inaugurate a 5.5x8.5 Delta hardbound sketchbook with this drawing from memory. This is the first page. But as I worked on it I realized I really needed some of the space on the inside book cover. Since it's made of the same paper it was easy enough to do. As usual the paper erased beautifully so that I could keep drawing and erasing until the bird seemed right. After that I added a small amount of watercolor. Given the overall gray color of the bird there really wasn't much color that I could add.

I often find that painting the bird like this soon after seeing it helps to confirm the ID, or at least suggest a likely possibility. This was most likely a Willow Flycatcher, a common bird at Morris, with a surprisingly large eye-ring. If he had called I'd know for sure but he was frustratingly quiet.

I'm happy with this watercolor sketch and especially with the paper. To me it works beautifully, and keeps a very clean quality in spite of strong erasures, for watercolor sketches such as these.

Those Willows

For a couple of years now we've seen Willow Flycatchers at the wetlands at Morris Arboretum. But we've always noticed them in late summer or early fall. So we've never known if they nest there or not.

Today I got a clue when I found one singing there. That's no guarantee it will breed. But it is starting to get late for migrants and the wetlands SEEMS like good breeding habitat. We can always find them at Tinicum(John Heinz National Wildlife Refuge) in Philadelphia in the summer. But it would be nice to know they're also almost next door, at Morris Arboretum.

Over on the wildlife art thread of birdforum.net someone suggested a new thread on 15 minute bird paintings. That was my intent with the one of the Willow Flycatcher here. It's based on a field sketch I did today, also above, as well as some photos I took. Due to the drab nature of these birds they are a bit difficult to deal with. But nothing ventured nothing gained. I also tried both in the field sketch and in the painting to portray the bird singing. As you can see in the field sketch I just didn't get it right. In the watercolor I had the luxury of looking at a photo I took so it may be a bit closer to that open-billed, head-thrust-back, chest-puffed-out pose that many passerines take when they sing.

Also included are some field sketches of Tree Swallows which were kind enough to stay in the same position and give me a decent chance at getting them down on paper today.

Am I Beautiful, or What?!

Stub-tailed, long-beaked, knob-kneed! Not the phrases that first spring to mind when discussing beauty. But that is a good description of a Green Heron, and he is beautiful!

Of course the maroon and dark green colors of much of the upper bird helps, as does the rich brown streaking on neck. This one was particularly striking due to the bold zigzag pattern on the wings, seen in the second photo. This is the fresh plumage of a first year bird. He'll keep it until next summer. I'm surprised we've never seen this before but we've rarely been so close to one either. I wonder if his seeming tameness also is related to his age. Or perhaps he was a migrant and too hungry to worry about nearby humans.

We saw him on a 4-hour walk at Tinicum(John Heinz National Wildlife Refuge) today on a beautiful, sunny, breezy 80 day. I'd say he was the high point along with a couple of Marsh Wrens, two Great-Crested Flycatchers and one Willow Flycatcher.

I did have my watercolor field box with me but it seemed better today to stick with the pencil sketches above and the photos. i also wanted to share the scope with my wife so that gave me less time to draw, or paint, with it. Still I certainly wish I'd had time to try some watercolor field sketches of this very handsome bird. I expect you will be seeing some watercolors, and maybe pastels, of him in the future. He is just too striking not to be the subject of more developed artwork.

Field Boxes, Flycatchers, Waxwings

I've spent a lot of time at the Wildlife Art section of birdforum.net over the last month. There are some incredibly good artists there, not to mention a vibrant and helpful community. As I've looked at the work there, especially the watercolor field sketches of Nick Derry and Tim Wootton a question has been rumbling around in the back of my mind: Why don't I use real watercolors for my field sketches rather than watercolor pencils and waterbrushes?

The latter method is quick and very convenient. Most of my recent sketches from life are done in this manner. But it is limiting as well: you're pretty much stuck with the colors of the pencils you have with you and color blending is difficult; the end result is half-sketch/half-watercolor; it almost always, at least in my work, looks tentative.

When I see field sketches that look almost like finished paintings I've quietly asked myself if I don't need to change methods. Finally a couple members of the forum suggested I just get a watercolor field box that I can bring with me so that I can do full-fledged watercolors. So I did.



The time was right and I'd just gotten a 10% off coupon from Dick Blick Art Supplies. So I bought an expensive field box set. I surely didn't want to spend as much money as I did, especially as I have a fair number of Winsor & Newton tube watercolors as is. But this looked like a convenient well designed set and it included pan watercolors, which I thought might be better and maybe less strong than tube watercolors.

Well there are field boxes and there are field boxes. I'm sure many people make their own, some from wooden boxes, and some from small mint tins. But I never thought that I was buying something about the size of a mint tin!!

You can see its size in the photo above. That is a quarter to the right of the watercolors! So it's far smaller than I expected. I got it on Friday but wasn't able to get out yesterday due to the rain. Out of frustration I gave it a try using a photo of a Barn Swallow I'd taken. I used the teeny, tiny collapsible brush and the results are below.




To some extent I feel like I cheated because I didn't work from life on this. It's based on a photo. Nonetheless I'm happy with the vibrant colors, especially compared to the watercolor pencil Mallard in upper left.

So, to finally get to the point of this lengthy and wandering post, today my wife and I again went to Morris Arboretum to see what we could see and to try some field sketching, especially with the new field box.

Immediately I saw the first problem. There have been many Cedar Waxwings at Morris recently but they rarely sit still long enough to draw or paint. But today I tried. I got one lined up in scope, then got out my field box and sketchbook. Here's the problem. I need one hand to hold the sketchbook, and one hand to hold the tiny plastic tin of watercolors, and a THIRD hand to do the painting. And really a fourth hand to hold the small container of water. The small watercolor of a waxwing below shows how quickly I gave up on this method!



This isn't much of a page. The waxwings just wouldn't sit still and I just couldn't get a good drawing let alone a good watercolor. The even worse sketch in upper right is a Willow Flycatcher. I just couldn't get anything right on it but I did get enough notes to clearly identify it later as a Willow Flycatcher.

After the three hand fiasco I decided that I needed to sit down somewhere so that I could manage this with two hands. Those drawings are at top. Still more problems presented themselves. Should I draw first with a pencil? Should I just start with brushes? That seemed like a good idea but then there were new problems. The tiny little collapsible brush held no water and so was constantly out of water. So it was like painting in the dry brush method. So then I tried a waterbrush but its flow is erratic even though it has its own reservoir. Finally I went to a standalone brush that was bigger than the collapsible one. That was okay but also ran out of water quickly, or had too much water and ran. So all of the sketches on top two photos are me feeling my way around.

They are a bit clumsy, particularly in regard to color. But they also feel more like paintings. If I can just grow a third or possibly fourth hand I think the future is bright!!

All kidding aside I am hopeful. Today was very frustrating but I see clearly the possibilities ahead and look forward to getting out again. There's nothing like painting.