Off to London and The Society of Wildlife Artists Annual Show

Two Moku Hanga Prints and One Acrylic Painting About  To Be Shipped to the Mall Galleries

With the pandemic I assumed that the Mall Galleries in London and the Society of Wildlife Artists would have to call off their annual show. So it was a pleasant surprise to get an email in the summer indicating  that the show was on and entries could be submitted.

I always love this show, though I've only seen it in person once, two years ago. I think my work has been in it  between 6 and 8  times. As I'm somewhat rushed today, mainly with trying to get the entries shipped, I'm not going to write much  more at the moment. Suffice it  to say  that it is the one show I am excited about applying  for and  getting into. Even when I  don't get in it's both thrilling and inspiring to see much of  the show online.

But this  year three of my works  will be in: two moku hanga prints, A Frenzy of Golden-crowned Kinglets and Three Shorebirds; along with an acrylic  painting, Common Buckeye  and American Lady. The photo shows them just before I  get ready to pack them up and send  them off.

More later..................

 

Some More Warblers

Yellow-breasted Chat. Acrylic Painting in Progress. Copyright 2020 Ken Januski

I guess it should be no surprise given the time of year and my interest in birding that I might be tempted to do some art work based on birds, particularly migrating birds, and most particularly warblers. Oddly that's even more true than in past years because this year I and my wife have been little distracted by actual birds! We didn't bird, or do much of anything else beyond the perimeters of our yard for about 8 weeks, right at the height of migration.

But I knew the birds were out there and could see many entries in e-bird indicating that they were in the Philadelphia area. But the inability to bird safely actually made it a bit easier to concentrate on  painting birds. This was made even easier, at least to some extent, by the fact that I decided to return to painting in acrylic.

As a painter most of my life it's been quite frustrating to use both watercolor and all of the relief printmaking methods I've used. Painterly handling just runs against the grain of those media, though  there are probably some examples of very talented watercolorists, for example Winslow Homer and John Singer Sargent, for whom that wasn't the case.

I have been happy with my work in printmaking and less so in watercolor. But that doesn't mean that I didn't miss the spontaneity of acrylic and oil. So it has been quite refreshing to return to acrylic.

At top is about the fourth or fifth version of  a Yellow-breasted Chat, based on field sketches, my own photos and my memories of seeing them. I keep being happy with it, then decide in the next  day or two that it needs more changes. Unlike watercolor  I can easily do this without ruining the painting.

Pencil Sketch  of Yellow-breasted Chat. Copyright 2020 Ken Januski

Because I don't see chats all that often though I felt like I needed to so some pencil studies of them before beginning the painting, even though I knew that the painting would not be as detailed as the sketches. In the end I just did this one though I struggled over it  for  days. For me it seems like a good way to work.  In struggling to get the bird on paper somewhat as I saw it in the photos, sketches and memory  I got a better idea of how it  was put together. This is one of the real benefits of sketching from life I think. And the knowledge that the bird might leave at any time makes my mental focus stronger I think. As long as it doesn't  leave me frozen like a deer in headlights as sometimes happens!

In any case this drawing was the basis of the painting.

I also had the pleasure of seeing a somewhat rare Mourning Warbler recently,  actually on only my  second birding walk since  the arrival of Covid-19. It is a bird I'm particularly unfamiliar with so it  was even more important to try sketching it.

Pencil Sketch of Mourning Warbler. Copyright 2020 Ken Januski

It wasn't visible for  long so all I  got from seeing it  was a memory, four photos and no sketches. This drawing, also done over a number of days, is based primarily on one photo. I'm not sure I'll try a painting of it but most likely I will. Acrylic painting, at least for me, allows me to have a more carefree attitude towards a painting. Maybe it will work. Maybe  it  won't. But I  might as well give it a try.

If I do attempt a painting I'm going to try to include a Black-throated Blue Warbler and a Carolina Wren, which were also in the vicinity. The only question is how much I'll try to work out a composition before I  put paint to canvas.

' You Need to Have a Subject', She Said

American Redstart, Northern Parula and Black-throated Blue. Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski. 9x12 inches Copyright @2020.

When I was a graduate student in Studio Art I used to have revolving critiques by the faculty. Often one faculty member's opinions would  be immediately contradicted by  that of  the next faculty member.  It made me learn to think for myself artistically,  though I think  I was already quite a ways along in that direction.

But one opinion puzzled me. A well-know woman artist whose  work was quite involved with autobiography and narrative told me I needed to have a subject. But I was an abstract painter.  The painting itself  was the subject. So I didn't pay much attention to her opinion though it did stick with me. I should  add that personally I liked her as did most other  painting students,  and her artists  colleagues as well I think.  My rejection of  her opinion had nothing to  do with personality.

But I did think about it again when I  took up painting  birds and wildlife after many, many years of painting abstractly. In painting birds all of  a sudden I felt a need to be true to them as a subject, no matter how much I might abstract them. This need I think created an emotional grounding to my painting that was new to me.

I of course was emotionally attached  to my abstract paintings. It's hard to imagine doing any type of  art without emotional  attachment to it. But wanting to portray a specific subject, or maybe  specific experience since birds are seen and experienced in an  environment, seemed to make painting easier! My lack of knowledge of  birds, wildlife, vegetation, etc. of  course did not make their portrayal easier. But  I did  find it much easier to paint  because there was always some grounding experience to compare my painting to.

With all that said  I would add that one of my primary interests has always been portraying warblers, some of the most colorful birds in the US. So for more than 10 years I've tried to sketch them from life, mainly when they migrate through  in spring and then fall, but also from the few who breed here. I also tried portraying them in watercolor, crayon, felt tip pen mainly from photos I'd taken.

I won't  replay all the difficulties that has entailed. But I think it's safe to say I've never been completely happy with any of  my warbler portrayals until I painted the acrylic  at the top  of this page last week. FINALLY it seems to capture the excitement of seeing migrating warblers, especially the spring ones in their generally more colorful plumage.

This painting is  finished. I'm not going to do any more work on it. It's not every day you can say that you've done the best warbler painting you've ever done so it would be silly to try to improve it.

Curlew and Great Cormorant at River Deben. Acrylic in progress by Ken Januski, 9x12 inches. Copyright @2020/

By contrast I started this painting before the warbler painting. I had no intention of  stopping my moku hanga prints and turning to acrylic.  I've done less than 10 acrylic naturalistic/realistic paintings  in my life, none in the last five years I think. But it was World Curlew Day, I had no ongoing prints and I had seen and photographed some curlew on our trip  to  England 18 months  or so ago.

On a lark I  did  a large watercolor  of  this same theme -- a curlew and Great Cormorant near one another. But watercolor doesn't allow much in the way of revision so I decided to try again in acrylic. It was so exciting to be working in such a malleable, immediate medium again. I could change anything I  wanted, over  and over, and the over  and over again! This is  the way I spent most of my life making art.

After I'd revised this for a second time I decided to let it just sit. That's when I did the painting at top that I'm so happy with. When the warbler painting was done I went back into  this. I'm still not happy. And perhaps it's the basic composition. With an abstract painting it's easy to wipe  out an area and just paint over  it. I could do that here as well but  then, because there is a subject, I'd have to repaint  whatever I had painted out, a time consuming  task and one open to mistakes. Though I'm sure it would be worth it in the end if I decide to do so.

I'm still not sure that this will be required. But something bothers me about the painting so I'll continue to stare at it as I work on other paintings. In the end maybe I'll decide it's best just to leave it as is and spend my energy on new works. Either way the fact that this painting has a subject will continue to keep me grounded in how I determine what to do  with it. Now I  know what my old teacher was talking about.

And I should add that I will go back to printmaking, though I'm not sure when. Whenever I happen to look through my old sketchbooks  I  realize that at least 50% of my prints  stem from earlier paintings, mainly watercolor. I'm sure that these new acrylics will eventually lead to some prints.

I Break for Curlews

Curlew and Great Cormorant at River Deben. Acrylic in progress by Ken Januski, copyright 2020.

Over the many years of this blog I've written occasionally about the sideways nature of my progress in art, or perhaps assumed progress. My point is that I often head off in a different direction and/or medium at some point. I think the reason for  this is pretty simple: I need a break, though maybe I didn't  realize  it.

I wasn't really planning on a break from my moku hanga printmaking but a notice that it was World Curlew Day prompted me to take a look at my photos of the only Curlew we've ever seen, both in England about 18 months ago. Looking at them convinced me to paint the watercolor that is further down in this post. It was a quick one so that I could get it painted on the correct day.

This is  a fairly accurate portrayal of the scene. I just moved the position of the two birds closer together so that I could get them both in the picture. I also decided, intuitively, that a vertical format seemed best. So that's why there's so much seemingly empty space at top.  It was a fortuitous accident I think.

But it also reminded me of one of the main problems  I, and as far as I know just about everyone else, have with watercolor. You really can't  change much. Much of its appeal is the sense of freshness and light. If you try to paint over what you've already painted the painting often seems turgid, muddy and stale. And I know I've seen a lot of such paintings, including many of  my own.

After I'd finished the watercolor below I still felt like I'd like  to make some changes. I'm not sure why, perhaps it was just a matter of feeling like I had more time on my hands due to staying at home due to Covid-19, but I decided to try to repaint the scene in acrylic.

Most of my artistic career has been as an abstract painter in acrylic and later oil, though as I continue with both watercolor and printmaking that statement will eventually no longer be true. I think  I still try to  paint in watercolor as though it is one of those media. Every mark is put down just to see what it looks like  and then I can change it  if  I don't like it. But  of course watercolor doesn't work that way. And neither by the way does most printmaking. I suppose the amount of pre-planning and deliberateness necessary in both could easily build up a desire to return to  a more spontaneous and forgiving medium.

So it has been enjoyable to return to a medium where I can change  things over and over and over. The painting at top is close to being done. I guess the nature of a painting that can be changed endlessly is that it possibly could  NEVER be done! But most artists I think realize that you eventually just need to move on to something new. So I don't think I'll too much more on this.

I don't know how long I'll stay with acrylic. I'm enjoying it now and have ordered new canvases and some new paint. (Finding my large jar of white completely dried out will tend to get me to order new paint  given how  important it is!!).

I think it's important to keep art enjoyable. Sometimes that means changing media, subject or who knows  what for a while. I always find that I'm happy to return to other  media, like moku hanga perhaps, when I eventually do. 

Curlew and Great Cormorant at River Deben. Watercolor by Ken Januski, copyright 2020.

Wilson's Snipe Acrylic Painting

Wilson's Snipe at Ottawa NWR. Initial Stage of Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

This is the very first state of a 9x12 inch painting of some Wilson's Snipe, and one further Lesser Yellowlegs. They were seen at Ottawa NWR in late September, right before it closed due to the government shutdown.

As you can tell it's rough. But I think it will stay that way. I like to understand birds, to know their structure, their markings, their movements. But at least with me trying to capture that leads to a dead painting. So as more or less a 2014 New Year's resolution I'm going to try to stay away from detail this year, more than I normally do that is.

One thing about snipe, particularly if you try to draw them in the field without aid of photos, is the striking pattern on their back. It's almost more striking than their long bill. So I'm hoping that this pattern will stand out here and be enough to ID them. I hope it will also be a focus or foci of the painting.

I've been listening to a Great Courses course on music recently as well as reading my ancient Introduction to Music textbook. More than ever they convince me that painting is primarily abstract, like music. And though it can often have a subject it will end up quite dull if it's limited by that.

Heart of Steel

Eastern Towhee at Houston Meadows. Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

That's quite a title I admit. I found it while searching online for information regarding my recollection that Delacroix had a hard time letting a painting go, to the point of touching it up while hanging on exhibition. I never found anything regarding that but I did find something similar:

Finishing a painting requires a heart of steel: everything requires a decision and I find difficulties where I least expect them.

After the fact I realized that I might actually be thinking of John Constable or Edgar Degas. Perhaps all three of them had the same problem. In any case Delacroix says it well: a painting is really an orchestration, a visual symphony, of color, tone, shape, light, line, texture, etc. That's why there are so many decisions. Every thing you do affects everything else. Wildlife art or any art that just stresses accuracy in detail misses the only important thing in painting: the visual symphony.

All of which is just an explanation for the state of this acrylic painting of an Eastern Towhee. I think it's done. Every time I've tried to finish it up the marks I made in one area made another area look bad. So it's gone back and forth, back and forth. That's both the good side, and the curse, of acrylic painting. You can change it forever. The answer I think is either to sell it or hang it, in other words get it out of my hands so I can't do anything more with it!

Having worked so long in watercolor and woodcut/linocut where you can't keep changing over and over the freedom of acrylic is a shock. It's largely a pleasant shock. But still there is the problem of when is the painting done. This is something I'm sure all creators are familiar with. At some time you just need to boot the creative project out the door or have someone grab it from you, saving you from yourself. A less desirable alternative, though used by many, is to just destroy it in disgust. I've rarely used this method.

Great Blue Herons at Manayunk Canal. Field Sketches by Ken Januski.

Because of that these field sketches are a welcome relief. They of course don't have the detail of the painting, not even close. But they're fresher and simpler. These are two of the four different Great Blue Herons I saw at the Manayunk Canal the other day. Though there can be frustrations in art work in the long run I consider myself very lucky to be able to spend so much time either sketching outside or doing more developed work in the studio. It can't be beat.

Eastern Towhee Continued

Eastern Towhee at Houston Meadows. In-process Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

We were birding at Fort Washington State Park - Militia Hill today, killing time while waiting for our cat to finish at the vet. At one point a thoroughly recognizable shape hopped out into the path. It was an Eastern Towhee. I think because I've been spending so much time painting it the shape was instantly recognizable. We've actually been surprised at how often they can be found at this location in late fall and winter.

The high point though was a handsome Purple Finch, either female or first year just a few feet away from us. We rarely see them in this area of Pennsylvania so it was a pleasant surprise, especially as the predictions are for no irruption of northern finches into areas south this year.

When we got home, cat safely in tow, I decided to grab just a little time to continue work on this painting. There's still a lot of work to do, especially in incorporating its surroundings. But I am happy with its progress.

Garden Royalty and White-throated Sparrow

White-throated Sparrow. Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

Above is the finished 6x8 inch acrylic painting of a White-throated Sparrow. It's not as yellow orange as the photo indicates but close. I decided to leave it as is rather than fool around with it on the computer and perhaps make it less close to the actual painting.

In my many years of art I've always swung between what I think are it's two main elements, at least in two-dimensional work, line and mass. They both have tremendous appeal and at times I'll value one over the other. I think in good painting you get both but there are artists who manage to make a great painting out of mass alone. And of course there are great drawings out of line alone.

In any case now that I've taken up acrylic over the last week I realize how much I love being able to move mass around. That's the virtue of painting, especially oil or acrylic where you can keep painting over the first layer of color, unlike in watercolor.

Watercolor, especially in the hands of artists like Homer and Sargent, has a singing light that can't be beat. I much prefer the watercolors of both to their oils. But if you can't get that singing light then at least you have a better chance of getting the sense of mass right in oils and acrylic because you can keep reworking them.  I think that's what I'm enjoying in acrylic right now. But I'll never lose the desire to use watercolor like Homer and Sargent.

Early Wonder Tall Top Beets.

Pictured above are some of the last vegetables from the garden, pulled yesterday: Early Wonder Tall Top Beets, from Seed Savers Exchange. If I can I like to recollect at this time of the year, really the end of the growing season, just what has been particularly successful this year.

This changes, sometimes drastically from year to year, depending upon weather, pests, how much time we have to keep on top of the garden, etc. So here are what I'd called the Kings and Queens of the Garden this year:

1.Early Wonder Tall Top Beets. I've always hated beets. In fact I grew these for the greens at the top, not the beets in the ground. But out of curiosity we tried various methods of using the beets themselves: beet salad in the summer, and  roasted beets with other vegetables in the fall. They were a revelation to me. Now I see why so many people love beets.

2.Tasty Evergreen Tomatoes. These also are from Seed Savers Exchange. We usually grow some green tomatoes. They taste like red tomatoes and are eaten when fully ripe, not as 'green' red tomatoes are in an unripe state. We always try to grow one green tomato but most of the time we grow Green Zebra. We like green tomatoes for their less acidic taste. What was surprising about these was their larger size and their prolificness. I think they were our favorite tomato this year.

3.Hillbilly Potato Leaf and Cherokee Purple Tomatoes. A tie I guess. These are both heirloom tomatoes, as are all of the tomatoes from Seed Savers Exchange. The rainbow colors, and rich taste of Hillbilly Potato Leaf can't be beat. But each time I grow the purplish, almost bruised looking, Cherokee Purple I'm taken with it as well.

4.Clio Dandelion. This is from Johnnys Selected Seeds. We've grown it for a number of years now. In the spring and summer there is nothing better than wilted dandelion greens where you eat them raw with a warm bath of olive oil, vinegar, garlic and shallots. When I first tried dandelion greens I cooked them. Inedible!!! Only later did I realize that they are best raw. Not only do they taste good but they also taste healthy. I really can't describe that except that it strikes us that way each time we have them. This spring and summer their usual accompaniment was grilled chicken - a perfect combination.

5. Bennary's Giant Zinnias, already featured many times in this blog. Their bright appearance, popularity with bees, wasp and butterflies, and beauty even when dead in the late fall garden make them one of the very best plants in the garden.

6. Oregon Giant Snow Pea, also from Johnny's. Peas are always a bit of a problem for me. Are they worth the time it takes for them to fruit or do they take up too much of our little garden space for much too long? I'd stopped growing them, and garlic which I used to plant in late fall, because they weren't ready until June, often mid-June. But this year we got so many of these delicious peas that it was well worth the wait.

7.Basils. I can't remember all of the types we grew and where the seed was from. But basically they were these types: Genovese, Lettuce Leaf and Thai. We got them in earlier than usual, mainly because I planted seed inside earlier than usual, and we reaped the benefits: basil all summer long and lots of pesto now frozen in the freezer.

8.Beam's Yellow Pear Tomato. We grow this each year, and each year it gets out of hand, growing 10-12 feet high and long, escaping all constraints. But at the end of the year, when all else is dead, there is the Yellow Pear, with a few more tomatoes still there and waiting to be picked. You can't beat that.

And of course there are the annual duds and disappointments. For some reason the Fortex Pole Beans from Johnny's, royalty in other years, were disappointing this year. Perhaps it was just different weather. Dester Tomato, from Seed Savers Exchange, was very bland we thought, even though taste testers at SSE thought it one of the best tasting.

An Acrylic Detour

Dark-eyed Junco in Pine. Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

In going through my expired listings on my Etsy store the other day I noticed this painting of a Dark-eyed Junco in the small Swiss Stone Pine in our backyard. The painting itself is next to the light switch in my studio so I see it every day. But it's always seemed a bit unfinished to me. It may also be the first acrylic I did in 15-20 years. I do know it was one of the first, if not the first.

In any case I finally decided to put down printmaking tools and watercolors and pick up my acrylics. Above is the updated version. Primarily it sharpens the bill and adds some dark to the background.

Killdeer on Rock Bar. Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

Of course once I started on it I looked at another painting in my studio, a Killdeer on a rock bar in the wetlands pond of Morris Arboretum. I struggled and struggled with this painting a year or more ago. I did exhibit it for sale but never actually put it up for sale online because something kept nagging me about it. In any case I also reworked it. Most of the work was spent on making the rock bar lighter in tone.

The Junco is a small 6x8 inch painting. This is a larger 11x14 inch painting.

White-throated Sparrow. Unfinished Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

After finishing these two I couldn't resist trying a new 6x8 inch canvas since I had one just sitting there. This is not at all done. But before I worked too much on the background I wanted to concentrate on getting this handsome White-throated Sparrow right. I'm just starting to see them again and they'll be here all winter and much of the spring. Each time I see them I realize how handsome they are. Sparrows have a subtle beauty.

It sometimes is a mistake not to have figured out the background before you actually start the painting. When you don't you cans spend forever, fiddling here and fiddling there trying to make the whole thing work. I have some confidence that won't be the case here. but I could easily be wrong.

Finished Acrylic

This is the finished version of the Least Tern, Forster's Terns, Mallards and Great Egret painting at 'The Meadows' in Cape May, NJ. I did add just the slightest bit of detail to the egret. And of course went over the reeds many times.
In contrast to the sense of animation that I mentioned in a recent post here I'm much more concerned with orchestration or perhaps design. Color, light, shape, texture and the subjects themselves should all add up and fit together in a 'certain' way. Who knows what that 'certain' way is but I think it's unique to each artist. You know when it seems right. For me in this painting a lot of it has to do with a feeling of beautiful calm that seems so typical of this area. The birds add to it but are not primary. It was trying to orchestrate all this that caused me to do the reeds over and over again, especially trying to make the back ones seem less important than the front ones.
The frame is simple pine lattice. It doesn't look great. But to me it looks better than almost any frame I can buy! For some this may seem hard to believe. But it's true. There are times when ornate frames look appropriate and actually add to the work. But I've always used lattice to frame my large abstract paintings. It's cheap but it also does what I want: put a simple edge to the painting that differentiates it from the background wall. When I switched to naturalistic painting I found that I wanted the same thing for my acrylic paintings. This it not true for my watercolors or prints, where I think the combination of mat and fairly simple frame work to set off the art and give it it's own little world to live in. But for acrylics I still think that just enough wood to give the painting an edge looks best. If I had more time though I would have preferred mitered corners to the butt joint that I used.

Least Tern in Acrylic

When I go birding, especially in a place like Cape May, NJ, where unusual birds are very possible, my goals are to see new birds and to see them well enough to sketch them. That's not to say that in places like Cape May I and my wife don't enjoy just being out in the environment. We do. Much of our birding, whether here or away, is in beautiful places.
We had hoped to see the endangered, and protected, Least Tern during our visit in late April/early May. Through the last day of our trip we still hadn't seen one.But as walked 'The Meadows' on our last night there we saw a smaller tern out on a spit. Sure enough we could see just enough to identify it as a Least Tern.
It was just too far away, even in my scope, to sketch. Instead I took some photos and hoped for the best. They still showed almost nothing to indicate it was a Least Tern. But it did show how small it was compared to the Forster's Terns to its left. And it showed one of the most striking aspects of this area, the bands of water and reed.
I always enjoy this view. It is so indicative of Cape May. I also liked the fact that the photo showed various birds all together in the same environment. This is what you actually see when you're outside, not individual birds, posed as though in a photographer's studio. As much as I like to show the beauty of birds I like to do it with them in a recognizable environment, not in the equivalent of a photographers studio.
This is on a 9x12 inch canvas. I'm not sure how much more I'll work on it. I have gone back and forth on the two bands of reeds four or five times. At some point all of the shapes, colors and sense of light will look good to me, or at least as good as I think I'm capable of doing. The birds will remain loosely defined. But that is the way that they really are at that distance. I do like the fact that this looks pretty much just like what you might see at 'The Meadows' in late spring.

Ending January - Month of Herons

Often the blahs of winter seem to nudge me towards colorful neo-tropical migrants in my art. I remember beginning 2011 with a quick watercolor of an Indigo Bunting. The grays, white and mud browns of winter seem to call out for brighter, warmer colors.

But as this January ends I think it has to be called 'The Month of Herons.' Between the new painting of the two immature Little Blue Herons at Morris Arboretum, the juvenile Black-crowned Night Heron seen at the Manayunk Canal last week and then the comparison of it with the juvenile Yellow-crowned Night Heron seen at the same place in the summer of 2010 it has been a month of herons.

There have also been a number of sparrows, particularly the dead Song Sparrow killed by a backyard cat. But mainly it has been herons.

So as the month ends it makes sense to show the latest version of the immature Little Blue Herons. It has definitely gotten more realistic. I don't think I've ever painted tree bark before, or even had the desire to. And even though this painting started out in an abstract vein something has pulled me toward realism. So for me it is a surprising painting. But part of the enjoyment of art is being surprised.

I think this is about done. If so I'll include it in a show that opens next Saturday and which I'll mention in next post.

Little Blue Herons Continued

Once I went to the larger canvas that I'm using on most recent acrylic I needed to reconfigure my studio. The only place to paint such a large canvas was on a full size easel facing my windows. That meant that all the light was behind the painting and very little in front of it. I was sort of painting in the dark.

Finally yesterday I pulled out some old floodlights that I used to use when photographing artwork for slides. What I saw was a completely new painting. What was previously subtle now looked brash and unfinished. So today I reconfigured the studio once again so that I could both get better natural light and use the floods if I wanted.

I'd already been tending toward realism as the painting developed. Whether it was the better light or something else I've continued in that direction. I've changed the color of the water to closer to what it really was: swampy green rather than deep ultramarine blue. I also changed the light on the foreground tree on which the closest herons sits. Those were the more obvious changes but there were others.

Now that I can see better I know that I'll need to do more. I hope that eventually it will resolve into a unified painting that I'm pleased with. As I continue with acrylic I don't think I'll continue with these blow by blow accounts. But since I started that process with this one it seemed wise to continue. If I finish this by the end of the week it will go into a show on Saturday.

It's a bit harder to get a good photo on this easel so please excuse the off-center quality of the photo.

Slouching Toward Realism

Well maybe. When I started this painting I thought I'd head in a more abstract direction. And I did for awhile. But today I took a step in the opposite direction. I had left different color planes in the water so that there was a largely abstract subdivision of space. I llked this and I think it may be why I thought of Matisse's 'Bathers by a River' when I started.

But I also knew it wasn't realistic. It bothered me a bit. Today after adding more details to the head of each heron as well as to the painted turtle I decided to try to unify the water. Maybe the realistic direction of the detail on herons and turtle was contagious. In any csse for the time being we're headed in a more realistic direction.

As I said earlier my old abstract paintings always meandered like this before finally settling down. It's always been the way I've worked, though media like watercolor and linocut allow only so much meandering and change of direction. In the first you eventually end up with mud; in the latter you've cut away all the lino and have little left except the bare white of the printed paper. Oil and acrylic though lend to nearly infinite variation. That is both good and bad. One thing I am reminded of is that on a large canvas it gets expensive! Paint, and more paint, and more paint....

I'm not thrilled with the expense. But I am thrilled by working in this manner again. When I first started this blog I often wrote that I felt my work was no longer very ambitious. I was too busy learning realism and birds to be ambitious. But now I'm more comfortable and I like the excitement of trying to do larger, more ambitious paintings.

They can also entail more mental strain though at times. So it's good to know that warmer weather is slowly winding its way here and field sketching will soon be available again. It's the perfect break from ambitious paintings.

Starting a Large Acrylic

Well 'large' is relative I guess. The above painting is 2'x4'. Compared to my work of the last few years, which rarely get above 18", it's large. Compared to my much older abstracts in oil and acrylic, generally around 6'x8', it's not large at all.

In any case this is the painting after about eight hours work over two days. I think it's evident that there's a battle between realism and abstraction. I keep trying to get the pose of the immature Little Blue Heron scratching itself correct while taking great artistic liberties with the rest of the painting.

Who knows where it will go? If it's anything like my old abstractions it may look nothing like this by the time I'm done. On the other hand my recent forays in naturalism may rein my experimental impulses in a bit. One thing I should note is that Henri Matisse's 'Bathers by a River' keeps floating around in the back of my mind. I haven't seen it in years but I know a vague recollection of it is somehow entangled in this painting.

One last thing. Because this painting is large it's hard to get a good photo of it. This photo is very much out of focus, and also photographed in horrible light. As the painting moves along I'll see if I can get some better photos.

Reconciling Naturalism and Abstraction

I was an abstract painter for many, many years. But I've only done one primarily abstract work in the last six or seven years. A few days ago I was sorting through some old frames and canvases from my abstract days. I was hoping that I could salvage a few unused frames to use on my recent bird paintings and drawings.

I found one or two. What I didn't expect to find were some primed but unpainted canvases all set to be painted on. Nor did I expect to be taken with some of the old abstract paintings I found.

I put a lot of work into my abstract work. I consider them very accomplished (even if the rest of the world doesn't). Most of those paintings I remember well. But I'd forgotten about some of these smaller works that had been banished to the basement. One of them is at the top of this post. It's an acrylic, about 32x32 inches. Since I can't remember what I originally called it, or if I even named it, I'm temporarily calling it 'Sit Still.' This for the slightly rocking, off-balance quality that it has. It might not be evident in the photo but there is much visible underpainting in this. It comes from changing, changing and changing until I felt that everything, shape, color, balance all fit together. In many of these works there's a balance that, at least to me, always seems about to fall apart.

One of the unpainted canvases I found was an odd 2'x4' shape. I don't like such strong horizontal, or vertical if you turn it on its side, formats. I can't imagine why I made one in such a size. But beggars can't be choosers, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, etc., etc. My recent return to acrylic painting has been limited to canvases not much larger than 18 inches in the largest dimension. I've been happy with them but they seem like studies. I used to paint 6'x8' paintings. So this fairly large found canvas seemed like a good opportunity.

Because it's such a strong format many things wouldn't work on it. Sometimes sketchbooks are sold in this shape and called 'landscape' format. It does lend itself to some panoramic landscape scenes.

I haven't done much work like that, especially work that includes birds. But I did remember one recent ink and watercolor sketch that might work. It is the painting of an immature Little Blue Heron with a Painted Turtle on a log above. It's really not that horizontal but I might be able to improvise on it.

That thought led me to this earlier watercolor of immature Little Blues, itself a composite of numerous sketches and photos.

This morning I did some preliminary sketches combining these two works in various ways, using a very strong horizontal format. They're at top, beneath the abstract painting.

I suppose this might seem very odd compared to the realism of my recent sparrow works. I probably wouldn't have done it if I hadn't run across the abstract acrylic, realized how much I liked it, and then found the blank canvases.

I sometimes wonder if art should not be split so much into abstract and realistic as urban and rural, or perhaps modern and traditional. For most of my life I've preferred the modern and the urban to the traditional and the rural. But never exclusively. Even in the height of my infatuation with Matisse and Picasso I admired people like Chardin and his quiet still lifes. Since I've been working naturalistically I've stayed closer to the traditional, rural, respectful of nature and not willing to take liberties with it. I still don't like the idea of possibly cheapening it by using it as just a frame for abstraction. But I think it may be possible to avoid that. In any case I think I'll be trying it soon on that odd, horizontal canvas Many of my lincouts tend more toward abstraction but never so far as the painting at the top. I'm guessing that this new painting will go even further toward abstraction, but I might be surprised.

Ending 2011 with Hawks and Acrylics

It would be nice to report that our last birding walk of 2011 turned up some extraordinary birds and I managed great field sketches of them all. Why leave it at that? I actually managed to do my first plein air paintings of them as well.

But that's what would have been nice. We did see 20 species at Morris Arboretum but didn't find anything extraordinary. The most unusual bird was a Brown Creeper, a winter bird that's always fun to see. But he didn't sit still long enough for me to get any sketches.

I did finish up the immature Red-tailed Hawk above though when we got home. It's 6x8 inches and done in acrylics. It's based on a bird that seemed to be at Morris the entire summer of 2010.

I've looked at photos I took of the bird many times and have always thought a beautiful painting was there for the taking, the whites and browns of the bird shimmering against the gray-blue sky. But for some reason I couldn't ever picture myself ever being successful doing it in watercolor. As I've continued to work in acrylic though(this being my fourth acrylic of the last few months, the first in over 25 years), I keep thinking that I can tackle previously forbidding projects in acrylic.

My guess is that the reason for this is that acrylic, or oil, is just so much more forgiving than watercolor. Since I spent many years as an abstract acrylic and oil painter I'm not surprised that it's starting to become comfortable to me.

That is not what got me started on this painting though. That can be attributed to the fact that I realized it was past time for our local accipiters, Sharp-shinned and Cooper's Hawks, to be visiting our feeders trying for our feeder birds. I decided to do some sketches of Coopers Hawks, above, from photos of previous backyard accipiters. My idea was to refamiliarize myself with them so that I could be prepared for possible field sketches. I'm always thrilled to sketch them but rarely satisified with the results. After I did these sketches from photos I added watercolor. Though these are not particularly successful they remind me of why I remain infatuated with watercolor: the sense of light. Oil and acrlyic can create great light effects as well but for true unadulterated celebration of light there's nothing that can beat watercolors, at least in the hands of someone who has managed to master them.

Season's Greetings 2011

Since I resumed acrylic painting a few months ago I decided to buy some little pre-stretched and primed 6x8 inch canvases. I thought I might use them like sketches and they might force me to keep experimenting with acrylic.

So a thread on the Wildlife Art section of Birdforum today focusing on paintings that illustrated the theme of Season's Greeting and Happy Holidays was just what I needed to try out those canvases.

This is based on a photo of a Dark-eyed Junco that was in our Swiss Stone Pine after a rare October snowstorm. And we've seen no snow since!

Happy Holidays to all.

Finishing Up

In between my field sketches and watercolor of ospreys, other field sketching, general birding, etc. I've had two somewhat developed works: the ten terns lino, focused on the Black Tern in front, and my second acrylic painting in 25+ years, of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet in Cattails.

I've had the luxury of letting them sit while I work on other things and decide if they're really done. I think that they are. Above is the Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 11x14 inches.

This lino sat the longest. Like sculpture when you cut away on a linocut what you cut away is gone for good. You can't put wood back on a sculpture and you can't put linoleum back on the block. So inadvertently it's sometimes easy to go from a print that seems too dark to one that seems too light. I feared making this one too light, even though it was a very light scene to begin with. Finally I decided that I needed to lighten it up. I did that yesterday. I believe it's now done, though this is the type of thing you could probably fine-tune for weeks.

All of the proofs have been with water-based inks. They are so easy to work with and cleanup, though the ink seems to disappear extremely quickly compared to oil-based inks. I'm still deciding whether to print the edition in oil-based or water-based ink.

Killdeer Getting There

I wanted to start off this post by quoting Henri Matisse about how every part of one of his paintings has its place and is important. I thought of it this morning while various considerations about my current painting flitted in and out of my mind. As they did I realized that a good painting is like an orchestral composition, with many parts all working together: the light, the color, the shapes, the brushwork, the lines, the values, the objects, their evocations, etc.

As soon as I thought symphony and orchestra I was reminded of Matisse's quote. It used to be when I remembered a quote like this I'd go search through my books hoping I could find it without spending too much time. But now we have the internet right? No need for books.

Well the problem with that is the sloppiness of the internet. Someone may say that something is a quote of Matisse but how do I know it's correct? I read two versions of one quote today that had somewhat different meanings depending on how much of the quote was shown. So I don't trust what I've found and am not going to use it. It seems safer to just paraphrase my recollection.

All of which just leads to the thought that I'm getting happier with this painting and all the various parts of it that I'm trying to get to work together. The newest version is at top.

You may notice that the killdeer is about the only constant. Everything else is changing. I hope it will stay that way. I've liked the bird from the beginning and have made only minimal changes.

I think this painting is also heading more toward naturalism now. The abstract pattern of the water is still there but it's toned down quite a bit. I've gone back and forth between naturalism and stylization in this. For now it seems like naturalism will win out. And yet even in naturalism every part of the painting has its place, every brushstroke, every color. In that sense every painting is somewhat abstract.

I need to turn this in for the show by Friday, and frame it before that. So soon it will be done one way or the other, at least temporarily.