Spacing Out with Moku Hanga, and Without

Original moku hanga of Golden-crowned Kinglets, by Ken Januski.  Copyright 2020.

I ended 2019 with a different version of this print. In fact this version was supposed to be the same, just on different paper. "The best laid plans of mice and men...", etc., etc. I had to mix up one new color because I didn't have quite enough of the color I'd used on the 2019  version of the print. Though it looked the  same in the paint pot it looked darker when actually printed. That combined with the neutral buff color  of the Nishinouchi paper on which it's printed compared to the bright white of the original print on Shin Torinoko  made me make one other color  change. That was the last color in blue/gray that overlaps and intertwines some of the other shapes.

I made that last change because I was afraid that the print was becoming too monotone, or monotous as you might say. In doing so I think I've made a bolder print, at least in terms of design, but it loses I think some of the luminosity of the first version.

So why even bother with a second version you might ask? Well it's mainly due to my old printmaking bugbear, technique, and more specifically smooth paint  coverage. Shin Torinoko is  a much more inexpensive paper than Nishinouchi. I was completely happy using it for non-moku hanga printing. But in all my use of  it in moku hanga it has turned out blotchier and less smooth than I'd like. Sometimes this is an appealing accident in that it creates to me an almost fresco-like quality. Of course I should add  that much of this could also be due  to bad technique on my part. But it does seem consistent with Shin Torinoko.

When I switch to Nishinouchi however  the  paint seems to go  on more smoothly and also with far less effort  on the part of me and the baren which I use to rub the paper into the wood block. I think that smoother surface shows up  here, though there are still a few uneven areas. I recently read that you can improve but never master tea, tai chi and tango. I'm familiar with the first two and it makes sense to me. With tango I reserve judgment. But I think you might also add moku hanga to the list. I'm a raw beginner at it but I've seen very accomplished  work. And yet I'd guess that the creators of that work would also say that there is always something more to be learned!

Full print with border of Golden-crowned  Kinglets Moku Hanga by Ken Januski.  Copyright 2020.

Above is another photo of the same print but this time I've included the border so that the color of the paper is more easily seen. And below, for anyone who's interested, a view of my makeshift moku hanga, and just about every other type of artmaking, studio.

All Nine Paint Pots Used in printing  the Golden-crowned Kinglets moku hanga, along with part of the edition. Printed  in 2020.

Ten Terns.Original Linocut by  Ken Januski. Copyright 2020.

I also sold an old print recently, followed by a sale of the first version of this print. The older print is above. I'm still quite fond  of it and I still recollect it's source: our first sighting of a Black Tern,  almost 10 years ago at Cape May Point State Park.

Besides wanting to show a print that I've recently sold I'm showing it  for another reason. When I first started doing wildlife art I hated working from photos, something I've disliked since a youth.  But I also realized that my work from life with wildlife was  extremely primitive!! I found that linocuts allowed me to be more abstract and also expressionistic while portraying wildlife. They allowed me to include subject matter but also to treat it more abstractly. Because I abstracted so much I was able to use photos.

But, as this print reminds me, I still used photos more than I wanted. They were always my own photos, never those of anyone else. So generally they had some emotional impact, perhaps partially just due to memory. Still it bothered me then to use photos and it still does.

This may just be a personal idiosyncracy. But it is definitely real on my part. Part of what bothers me I think is that I use the default definition of space that the photograph portrays. In this instance, these birds in front of those birds, etc., etc. My newest print at top though I think shows something different. There is I think a bit of warping of  space. It is more fluid.

Many years ago I interviewed Frank Stella by phone regarding his new book 'Working Space.' Though I'd never been thrilled with his  earlier work I was interested in his seemingly new interest in creating space in art and a harkening back to the work of  Peter Paul Rubens among others. I hate to say more because I read and reread the book so many years ago and interviewed him also so many years ago. But I mention it because I'd started to move away from flat space in my own abstract work. I'd even gotten so heretical as to include abstract shapes that might connote something real. And I'd recently seen the work of  Tintoretto at the Scuola  di San Rocco in Venice. It was a revelation  of paintings that seemed to take space as one of their main themes and then play with it.

I realize that for many this may seem hopelessly theoretical and in the weeds. So  I won't continue. I'm not doctrinaire about it. But almost by accident I found myself  more interested in creating a sense of space in flat painting at just about the time I was reading Frank Stella who seemed to have a similar  interest, though in his case it was wall sculptures rather than painting.

I think this interest has stayed with me and pops up in my work from time to time. When it does, as in the recent Golden-crowned Kinglets prints, it always goes away from photographic space toward a more plastic sense of space.

Lino In Progress; Odds and Ends

Falling, Fighting Gnatcatchers. Linocut. Early proof by Ken Januski.

A few months ago Jerene and I had the oddest experience while walking along Forbidden Drive in the Wissahickon Valley in Philadelphia. A large grayish object came floating down in front of us, somewhat like a Sycamore leaf but of the wrong color. When it hit the ground it exploded into a flurry of blue/gray, black and white. It turned out to be two fighting Blue-gray Gnatcatchers, more or less locked together as they fell.

Soon after I got home I did the sumi brush pen sketch below, completely from memory because there was no way in the world to have gotten a photo. It all happened too quickly. But I did think that I'd like to make a print of it. So at top is a fairly early proof of a two block linocut. I'm running out of wood blocks to carve so decided to try this old piece of mounted lino.

Currently I'm debating whether or not to add another color or two to the color block. Most likely I'll add at least one more color.

Fighting, Falling Gnatcactchers. Sumi Brush Pen Sketch by Ken Januski.

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I get varying responses to my work. Some people love the more realistic watercolors, as in the Blue Grosbeak below. But others turn their noses up at this type of work and like the more abstract work of the newest Gnatcatcher print. I've come to the firm conclusion that I'm best working abstractly. My work is I think somewhat personal when I work like that. With watercolors I could look like many other painters, just not as good.

Blue Grosbeak at Higbee Beach. Watercolor by Ken Januski.

But I still admire the way some people can use watercolor, and by 'some' I should say I definitely do not mean the color within the line school of very deadly watercolor. I've never understood that claustrophobic way of working. Watercolor begs to be used freely, even if that is the most difficult way to use it. In any case I always learn something when I work in watercolor, about the bird portrayed, about the use of watercolor, or in this case about how difficult it is to render grasses in a free, yet believable way. It's a bit like learning to dive. I try a new watercolor, perhaps am happy with it, then do a big belly flop. It can be a painful way to learn. But I keep coming back. Still I think I'll never develop the individuality I have in my prints in watercolor.

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds. Sumi Brush Pen Memory Sketch by Ken Januski.

This is a very lucky time of year for people, at least people in the Eastern US, because during much of July and probably all of August and if you're lucky much of September as well, you can have Ruby-throated Hummingbirds as daily visitors. For all my years of watching them I've come to the conclusion that the best way to portray them is not from a field sketch and not from photos. Instead I stare at them for a number of minutes, try to memorize what I see, and then put it down on paper.

Inevitably I realize how much I have forgotten in the five seconds it takes to switch from looking to drawing. Still I keep trying and I keep learning. Hopefully I'll have some drawings I'm happy with before they depart in September or so.

Recently a friend of mine, who is both an accomplished artist and a lover of music posted a note about the recently deceased composer Einojuhani Rautavaara. It included a link to one of his works: Concerto for Birds and Orchestra. It is almost 20 minutes long but well worth listening to. It reminds me of how ambitious 'wildlife art' can be if it wants to. It can be aware of art of the century in which it is created, i.e. 21st not 19th or earlier, and yet still be true to and appreciative of the 'wildlife' itself. I realize that not everyone will enjoy this. But as with many things it seems criminal not to at least alert people to the existence of such strong pieces of art.

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.

The New, The Old, The Newly Rejuvenated

Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Turkey Vulture and Trumpet Honeysuckle. Completed Two-Block Reduction Woodcut by Ken Januski.

I'm happy to say, and happy for you to see, that I can once again import pictures into this blog. I'm not sure where the problem was but I'm happy to say that it's fixed. And I'm sure anyone who dislikes my digressions into politics, while I waited to be able to post pictures again, is too.

I finally finished the two-block reduction woodcut of the Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Turkey Vulture and Trumpet Honeysuckle above. A combination of needing to allow ink to dry on earlier prints before adding new colors as well as the difficulty of making the final decisions on where to cut and where to add the black made it a lengthy print. All I can say by way of explanation is to paraphrase Matisse who said that every single part of a picture is important. You change one and the balance of all the others changes as well.  So when you finish a painting you're saying this is the best I can do. No more changes.

I  have to say that, at least at the moment, this is my favorite woodcut or linocut of all that I have done. Each day I look at it in the studio I'm pleased and it seems like it was worth all the work and all of the delay.

Winter Wren in Leaves. Proof of Black over Orange Over Black. Combination Woodblock and Linocut by Ken Januski.

But there is a problem that has been lurking on the horizon with my printmaking. That is the end of manufacturing of the water soluble ink I've been using for a couple of years, Daniel Smith. I'm not sure that other media have such basic problems, like even being able to buy the tools you need. Perhaps they do and I've just never run into them. I know I certainly haven't while painting in oil, acrylic or watercolor.

I began using oil-based inks. I liked the results but didn't like the need for petroleum based solvents, both for health and environmental reasons. So I experimented with water-soluble inks. But the two I tried, Caligo and Akua, just didn't seem to work the way I wanted, at least in m brief experiments. The only other water-soluble ink I know of is Graphic Chemical and I have heard no reviews of it.

So after I finished the print at top I asked on the Facebook page of Friends of Baren if they had any ideas. All three inks had their following. So I thought about trying the old Caligo ink I bought a few years ago.

My old linocut of a winter wren in leaves seemed a perfect candidate. I was happy with the edition when I printed it but I felt the wren disappeared a bit too easily. I also thought that an orange and/or brown could be added and really bring it to life.

So I decided to experiment. I proofed the  original lino using Caligo black ink, as seen below. Then I copied that onto a woodblock of the same size, cut the white areas away, and printed orange on top of the black. The results can be seen at the bottom. I did this just out of curiosity and was pleasantly surprised at the brown that resulted from the orange overprinting the black.

So in the proof at top I've printed black on top once again. I like the results. I've lost that brown but my plans are to eventually cut some of the black lino away so that some of the brown shows through.

If it works as planned this will be a shockingly simple print, the complete opposite of the last one. Of course that is refreshing. And I like them both. There is a place for the simple, the complex and the ambitious. I tend to favor the latter but it's always refreshing to try the former.

Winter Wren in Leaves. Linocut Proof by Ken Januski.

Winter Wren in Leaves. Linocut and Woodcut Proof of Orange over Black by Ken Januski.

Green Jewels of June

Ruby-throated Hummingbird on Monarda. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

Ebony Jewelwing on Leaf. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

June brings two green jewels to Philadelphia each year, the Ruby-throated Hummingbird, whose back always has some green on it, and the Ebony Jewelwing damselfly, where the male is a brilliant blue/green, though his wings are black(ebony) as could be.

As I've continued to experiment with the Kuretake Sumi Brush Pen, so much so in fact that the first ink cartridge is drying up, I've decided to try it with both of these green jewels as subject. Above both are done first with the brush pen. Then I added a bit of watercolor for color. Since the ink is water-soluble it runs a bit. Given my style that does no harm. But I am investigating how to use permanent ink in the pen.

Ebony Jewelwing and Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Sumi Brush Pen Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

I've always planned to use the pen primarily for field sketching. Finally today I did do with the 20-30 Ebony Jewelwings, the most I've ever seen at one time, at Morris Arboretum. This was a matter of looking through binoculars, trying to remember what I saw, then putting it down, at a very small scale in my sketchbook. Not great but at least recognizable. That's a good base to build from. When I got home I saw the first Ruby-throated Hummingbird in our yard for today. They or it has been here for 4 days straight, feeding primarily on trumpet honeysuckle. The sketch is done from memory later. At this time of year I rarely have drawing utensils with me when they appear so I stare until they leave, trying to memorize the bird and it's movements.

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds. Sumi Brush Pen Sketches by Ken Januski.

Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Sumi Brush Pen and Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

Above are two more sumi brush pen sketches of hummingbirds from photos. In the bottom one I've added watercolor. It may seem hard to believe but one of my purposes in trying the pen was to find a way to sketch my subjects with lines of varying width. This works well in sumi and I'd also like to use the varying line width in my prints as so many have done before me. I haven't really done that much yet in my prints but I hope the sumi sketches will help in that transition.

Below is a woodcut of a Ruby-throated Hummingbird seen in our yard last year and a linocut of an Ebony Jewelwing and Louisiana Waterthrush from 2011. I'm sure more prints will eventually appear.

Ruby-throated Hummingbird on Yew Twig. Woodcut by Ken Januski.

Louisiana Waterthrush and Ebony Jewelwing.Linocut by Ken Januski.

It Happens Every Spring

It's not the most elevating experience of spring but it is one that happens with great regularity, a Red-tailed Hawk pays a visit to the nest of Red-winged Blackbirds. And you can guess why he's there: to make food of the eggs and/or young. So every spring you see the sight above: Red-winged Blackbirds attacking a seemingly impervious Red-tailed Hawk. I've never actually seen one make off with an egg or young but I pretty much expect that this is what happens. This quick pencil and watercolor sketch is based on a photo I took today at Morris Arboretum.

What I had hoped for if not expected today was a great show of warblers. But it was not to be. Spring is moving along and we've seen very few warblers. The one great showing recently was as I walked out of Carpenter's Woods to meet a deadline. After 4 hours of birding they appeared, mainly Black-rhroated Blue Warblers, just as I had to leave. Warbler Karma.

But there is more to the world of birds than warblers. including American Kestrels and American Robins. Above you see the final edition of the American Kestrel Eating American Robin linocut. I printed it in an edition of 24, but I'm holding 8 back to hand color. So this version is 16. The hand-colored version, when I get to it, and if all goes well, will be 8.

It is completely by accident that I'm focusing on raptors here.

Possibilities in Print

Black Squirrel, Palm Warbler and Mourning Cloak. Proof of Reduction Woodcut by Ken Jansuki.

Female American Kestrel with Dead American Robin. Proof of Linocut by Ken Januski.

It's almost unheard of for me to have two prints in progress that I'm happy with at the same time. It's hard enough to just get one. Of course just voicing this thought will probably jinx one or both of them.

I've been working mainly on the kestrel print since the ink is taking so long to dry on the squirrel reduction woodcut. But I had some left over ink from proofing the newest state of the kestrel today and decided to try it on the woodcut, especially as the color is close to the one I plan to use. The color is a bit thin but it gives me a good idea as to how the woodcut might continue to develop.

And the linocut looks good as is. I still plan to print two versions of the kestrel, one in just one color and the other with hand-coloring on top of that one color. I've ruined a number of prints by carving too much away and ending up with a print that is just too white. So this one may be ending soon. I just need to let it rest a bit and see if it looks like it holds together as is or needs a bit more tweaking.

Still not too many new warblers to distract me from finishing this though today did bring the first Greater Yellowlegs I've ever seen at Morris Arboretum. Did I ever mention that shorebirds are just as distracting as warblers?

In any case it's nice to have so many possibilities in print. And then there is that Warbling Vireo with Catkins seen recently. Maybe that would make an interesting print..............

Raptors Not Warblers

Osprey with American Robin. Early Proof of Linocut by Ken Januski.

Yes, yes, yes it is the time of newly arrived warblers and other neo-tropical migrants. And though I've been out many hours and walked many miles over the last few days I have seen very few warbler or new migrants.

Yesterday we saw our first Eastern Kingbird, Warbling Vireo, and first in Philadelphia Common Yellowthroat at Morris Arboretum. We also heard our first Baltimore Oriole at Andorra Natural Area yesterday and saw our first Yellow Warbler today at the Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education, all locations I'm happy to say that are within 5 miles of our house.

So we have seen some new migrants, just not as many as you'd expect for the time of year. The last photo in this post does include a warbler, the brilliantly golden Palm Warbler. But a problem with slowly drying ink forced me to put it on hold yesterday and start something new.

I didn't want it to be particularly complicated so I went with a linocut based on the female American Kestrel eating an American Robin at the parking lot of Morris Arboretum about a month ago. I'll most likely print it in just one color but may hand color at least some of the resulting prints. It is based on a photo I took and then a pencil drawing based on the photo. So far I like it and the fact that it pretty well captures the stance and look of the feeding kestrel.

Mature Bald Eagle Along Wissahickon Creek. Photo by Ken Januski.

So the kestrel is the start of the 'raptors' in the subject line of this post. A few days ago I also saw my first of the year Osprey in Philadelphia, just down the hill from us along the Manayunk Canal. Then today, while looking for warblers along the Wissahickon, I saw this handsome mature Bald Eagle. This is near the place that I saw our last Philadelphia Osprey, on Thanksgiving, 2014. This part of the Wissahickon is also less than a mile from our house, like the Manayunk Canal, and like the nearby church that hosts nesting Peregrines.

It remains astonishing to me that all these raptors can be seen, though not by appointment, within a mile of our highly urban home.

Black Squirrel, Palm Warbler and Mourning Cloak. Early Proof of Reduction Woodcut by Ken Januski.

When I said that I wanted to do a simple linocut I meant simple in comparison to the complexity of the reduction woodcut above. It is tiny, only 4x6 inches. But the composition is complicated and I'm sure the process as it goes along will be complicated. I showed a pencil sketch and crayon version of this recently, based on something I'd seen one day.

What I like so far about this print is that it captures exactly what a Palm Warbler looks like in the drab days of early spring. a golden yellow bird, decorated in rich Burnt Siena. I'm taking artistic liberties by using the same yellow for the light part of the wings of the distant Mourning Cloak. And the Gray Squirrel is in fact a 'Black' Gray Squirrel, one that is almost velvety black. Every time I see one of these squirrels I want to include that rich black in a painting or print. So the challenge here is to combine the black and the yellow and Burnt Siena in some plausible and I hope strong way. Even though it is a very small print it is thus far more complicated than the larger kestrel print. Time will tell how they both work out.

And very soon, perhaps tomorrow, all those neo-tropical migrants will arrive and make it so much more difficult to concentrate on these prints. But who can complain?

Arrival of a Colorful Warbler

'Black' Squirrel, Palm Warbler and Mourning Cloak. Pencil, Wash and Caran d'Ache Neocolor II Crayon Sketch by Ken Januski.

I have to say that I think one warbler exemplifies the arrival of neo-tropical migrants more than any other: that is the Palm Warbler, especially the Eastern race which we tend to get here. The golden yellow, with warm Sienna cap and markings, is  indicative of spring and warm weather. Other warblers are generally first. We may see a Pine Warbler or two, maybe a Louisiana Waterthrush and at least this year Yellow-rumped Warblers, which when they aren't sky high in the trees are actually pretty colorful themselves. Still it is the Palm that signals winter turning to spring and eventually summer.

Yesterday I saw my first Palms of the year, the first sky high where the Yellow-rumpeds should be, but still obvious from their constantly bobbing tail. The next one I saw was down closer to the ground but still not below eye level as they so often are. When that's the case you can't miss their golden yellow coloring.

Yesterday also brought out the second Mourning Cloak of 2015, the first one having been seen the day before, as well as a 'Black' Squirrel. Black Squirrels are really Gray Squirrels but with a darker color. But they seem exotic. And if you're an artist you can't help but be struck by their rich black coloring. When I got home yesterday I tried a quick ballpoint pen and watercolor sketch of the Mourning Cloak and Palm Warbler. But it just didn't work out.

This morning I tried again, this time determined to make the Black Squirrel play a larger part. This is on a page from a Stillman and Birn Zeta sketchbook. It is an extra heavy paper and one that I've used before with Caran d'Ache Neocolor II water soluble crayons. I don't use these crayons often but I do find that they are good when I want a particularly vibrant color. And that's just what I wanted for the Palm Warbler.

Palm Warbler Amidst Bloodroot. Linocut by Ken Januski.

Because Palms are such early arrivals they are often in the woodland ephemerals that are here for such a short time in spring. I particularly see them in Mayapples but I have also seen them in the far more striking Bloodroot. The linocut above, from a number of years ago, places them amidst bloodroot, something that I'd just seen at the Schuylkill Center for Environmental Education.

My recollection is that I've seen Mourning Cloaks much earlier in the year on occasion. This year we saw our first on April 6th. That seemed late. But when I checked one of my guidebooks where I often note the first sighting for a particular year I found that April 6th is normal, if not a day or two early. The same thing goes with Palm Warblers. Though we have seen them occasionally in March last year we saw them just one day earlier than this year. So even though this has seemed like a cold and long one, and though it seems everything is late it turns out not to be quite as late as I'd thought.

Someone remarked on my Facebook page that the Mourning Cloak is one of their favorite butterfies. It's easy to see why. It also signals the arrival of spring, though the lazy way that it drifts through space makes it seem altogether languid as though it should really appear in the hazy, lazy days of summer.

As I look at the pencil and crayon sketch at top, especially compared to the Mergansers and Grebes woodcut that I'm currently using as a header on this blog I realize that there is quite a difference in composition. The woodcut is much more solid in composition, as though more thought went into it. It did. But it also seems a bit rigid. That is fine if that's what you want to express. I have nothing against rigidity. But I don't want it to be my default style, especially when working abstractly where it tends to come quite easily to me. So as disorganized and floppy as drawings like the crayon one of squirrel, butterfly and Palm Warbler might be I do continue with them. My hope is that they will lead to something as organized as the Mergansers and Grebes but with the rigidity well hidden. I think I've been most successful in that goal in the watercolor below of a few years ago.

Saddlebags, Savannah Sparrow and Pumpkin at Rea Farm. Watercolor by Ken Januski.

Another Thanksgiving Osprey Along the Wissahickon

Osprey with Fish at Valley Green. Linocut by Ken Januski.

Juvenile Osprey Along Wissahickon on Thanksgiving Day, 2014. Photo by Ken Januski.

Osprey with Fish at Valley Green, 2010. Field Sketch by Ken Januski.

Juvenile Osprey Along Wissahickon on Thanksgiving Day, 2014. Photo by Ken Januski.

I know I've talked a lot about Osprey in recent posts. That's for a couple of reasons: 1, we enjoy seeing them especially in November along the Wissahickon in Philadelphia, PA; 2, e-bird from Cornell Labs seems to think this is unusual; and 3, yesterday I finished a new linocut, one that was first begun, then abandoned four years ago.

At top you see the new linocut. It's based on the sketch done from life over four years ago. I abandoned it soon after I started because it seemed too clunky and primitive. But when I ran across it recently I liked it. So I reworked it, first with color  as I illustrated in an earlier post. When that didn't work out I made minor modifications and printed it in a small edition of six. One of them is at top.  I had thought we'd seen this Osprey on Thanksgiving but that actually was another one. This one was seen on 11.15.10.

I finished it on Wednesday. Today we went out to walk along the Wissahickon before cooking our Thanksgiving meal. When we first started this 15-20 years ago we saw a Pileated Woodpecker, a relatively rare bird for us at the time. So each Thanksgiving, and Christmas, we go out with the hope of seeing another.

More recently though we've seen something that actually is rare, at least according to e-bird, for this time of year, an Osprey. That was what we hoped to see today. And sure enough we did. Two of the best photos of the 60 plus that I took are above. This juvenile Osprey did not move from this position, except to change direction, in 30  minutes! Often I've hardly begun to sketch him or remove the lens cap from the camera before he's gone. The one, actually probably this one, that we saw a couple of weeks ago flew by and gave us all of 3-5 seconds to view him.

I'm including the last photo because it was illustrates an aha moment. We saw him most of the time with his back to us. What was striking was how short his tail was. As you can see his wings extend far beyond the tail. The overall shortness is due to foreshortening. But the relative length of the wings is no surprise when you consider what they look like in flight - very long wings. But it took us both awhile to reconcile that with the seemingly very short tail.

Among the many, many things we have to be thankful for is the Wissahickon and the wildlife that inhabit it. If you watch the news as we do, it seems like just about the entire world is 'fed up and not going to take it anymore'. I blame this partially on talk-radio and web sites, particularly news sites, that allow unbridled and unedited ranting. Everyone can now rant endlessly, and often anonymously .In any case most people actually have a lot to be thankful for if they think about it. This is all the more obvious when you see Ebola victims in Africa, terrorist victims anywhere, and the poor people of Syria, to name just a very, very few.

Osprey and Goldfinch Prints in Progress

Osprey with Fish at Valley Green. Proof of multi-block Linocut by Ken Januski.

Experience is absolutely necessary in order to learn all that may be done with one's own instrument of expression, and more especially to avoid what should not even be attempted. When a man is immature he plunges into all kinds of senseless experiments, and by attempting to force his art to yield more than it either can or should concede, he fails to reach even a small degree of superiority within the bounds of what is possible... Only fools and weaklings torture themselves by trying to achieve the impossible.

And yet we need to be very bold. Without daring, without extreme daring even, there is no beauty...

Eugene Delacroix, The Journal of Eugene Delacroix, translated by Hubert Wellington, published by Phaidon Press, entry for Sunday July 21, 1850.

So ... to put it briefly, I hope I'm being bold and not foolish and weak by experimenting as I am with the two prints shown here. Above is a linocut that I abandoned about four years ago. It was based on a field sketch I did of an Osprey seen at Valley Green, along the Wissahickon in Philadelphia on November 15, 2010.

I stumbled upon it by accident recently. As I recall I decided it just looked too clunky and primitive for my tastes. But now I find something appealing in it so I'm reviving it. Out of curiosity I printed the image on the back of the mounted linoleum and carved away the pressed wood backing where the Osprey would print. I then used a rolled blend, something I've never tried, onto the pressed wood surface, not the most inviting surface in the world.

Well as you can see it didn't really respond well to being inked. And yet it did give some color, which is really all that I wanted, to serve as a backdrop for the black linoleum print. This is a proof. Most likely I'll do some more carving on the linoleum, getting rid of a lot of gouge marks and probably just print in one color, black. But only time will tell.

American Goldfinch on Thistle. Proof of multi-block Woodcut by Ken Januski.

I started the Osprey print today after printing the proof above for the Goldfinch woodblock. I'm trying to figure out how much of the yellow to keep. Since most of the first proof is yellow, whatever I carve away will stay yellow.

American Goldfinch on Thistle. Proof of multi-block Woodcut by Ken Januski.

Most likely the last printing will be the black from the first side of the woodblock. As I continue adding colors I'll need to carve away much of the black so that it doesn't overprint as it does here. But I proof it continually at points like this just to get some idea of what it might look like, and what I might lose forever if I cut it away now. Most likely there won't be much black left when I finally print that block on top of everything else. But that stage is still quite a ways away. One thing I would like to get, and I think I have it to some degree in the proof without the black, is a fairly bright print, just like my recollection of the goldfinch on the thistle.

That Magic/Tragic Moment in Printmaking

Northern Mockingbird and Carolina Chickadee. Working Proof Linocut by Ken Januski.

It's been awhile since I've done a print that is strictly black and white, the 'black' of the ink and the 'white' of the paper. It's refreshing to do one because I have to stay simple. There is none of the complexity of color.

Most of my black and white prints have had what seemed to be a greater amount of black than white, so that the print never seemed too light. But every once in a while in a print there comes a moment when I cut away just enough to turn the print from a darkish print to a lightish print. As I thought this over after initially posting it I realize that the real problem is not just that it becomes a light print but that it becomes a print so overwhelmed by the white of the paper that there is no longer any tonal variety. Worse, there is little likelihood of getting it back because too much of the wood or lino has been cut away, much like cutting too much away from a sculpture or coering up too much white paper in a watercolor.

If the cutting that turns it into a largely light print works, i.e. doesn't lose all tonal richness it's magic.If not, it's tragic, in which case I might need to try all sorts of things to try to regain more tonal richness. Because too much of the wood or lino is gone and the print is dominated by the white background it's very difficult to fix. Often the only solution is to take the print off in a slightly different direction.

I foresee this moment and try not to reach it, unless I know from the start that I want a light print. In this case I didn't. But I also knew that I had to keep cutting away in order to keep the focus on the birds and not  on the background. Then poof! , the print went from darkish to lightish. In the end I decided that this was fine.

The scene really was the birds among many small limbs and twigs on a overcast day. So this is pretty true to what I'd orignally seen. The print is nearly done. I just need to clean up a few background marks, but not too many. Past experience has taught me that it's easy to remove too much. If I do the print will go dead  as a doornail. That tragic moment will arrive.

I'm sure some printmakers will be puzzled by this. You shouldn't have such a problem if you  plan out where the lights and darks will go before you start carving. I'm sure this is true, if that's the way you work. But for me much of the appeal of printmaking is its improvisatory aspect. I don't like things all planned out beforehad. If that was my goal I could just as well work in many other media. The nice thing to me about printmaking is that it lends itself to improvisation. As I've mentioned before I was greatly comforted reading Wildlife in Printmaking by Carry Akroyd to see how many of the printmakers featured there loved the improvisatory aspect of printmaking. It is a dialog, not a monolog.

I've now made the minor cleanup I've mentioned and the painting has not taken a tragic turn. So now it's on to a small edition on good paper.

200 Snowbirds Interrupt My New Print

Northern Mockingbird with Carolina Chickadee. First Proof of Linocut by Ken Januski.

During the last month I've accumulated some new printmaking equipment: a high quality Japanese cutting knife and a high quality Japanese brayer. But due to my recent infatuation with acrylic painting I haven't had the time to test them out.

Other distractions have included bird counts, and reading, including finally finishing sadly, the best art related book I've read in years, The Journal of Eugene Delacroix. Today I decided I was finally going to plunge ahead with a new linocut, before I forgot how to make one.

I've been out birding a lot so far in this cold January. It's often been too cold to sketch but I did finish one page that included a Northern Mockingbird, Carolina Chickadee and Carolina Wren,  not rare birds but some of the more enjoyable, predictable birds of winter in this area. The more I looked at the sketch the more I thought I should try something with both the mockingbird and the chickadee.

So after numerous sketches I finally started this lino this afternoon. The new cutting knife was a pleasure to use, allowing me more control of my cuts than I'm used to. Once I'd finished the cutting it was time to head downstairs and ink up the block with the new brayer. The results are at top. The brayer seems to be eating all of the ink, or perhaps it's just the dryness of the air or of the ink itself that caused the splotchy printing. In any case I would have liked a nicer first proof. But I'm sure this will improve with time.

As I carefully cleaned up the expensive new brayer Jerene came flying down the stairs saying that at least 100 Snow Geese had just flown over the backyard. I would have loved to see them but they were probably gone and I couldn't afford to leave the new brayer with ink still on it. Five minutes later Jerene came flying down again. 100 more Snow Geese. The brayer was clean so I headed out into the snow, protective blue gloves still on my hands, and dressed perfectly for 65 degree weather, but not quite for 20 degree weather. Too bad; I didn't care! I just managed to see at least 60 of them in a wide flock, flying out of sight. What a lovely sight!

We have the regular snow birds here, juncos, but this is the first time we've ever seen Snow Geese fly over the yard. So I just couldn't resist referring to them as snow birds in the title of this post.

Gray Catbird in Brambles. Seen on Winter Bird Census at SCEE, Jan. 18, 2014.

We haven't seen any real rare birds in out various official and unofficial bird counts of 2014. But we have seen some birds that are fairly unusual this time of year. Above you see one of them: a Gray Catbird seen at the Winter Bird Census at The Schuylkill Center for Enviromental Education last Saturday.

Jerene and I have never been the type of birders who chase after rarities, though I can certainly understand the appeal. We'd prefer to know our local birds. And as we now have more than 20 years of experience we've finally gotten to where we have a fairly good idea of what is likely to be seen and where it is likely to be seen. It is hugely satisfying to go out for a walk, regardless of weather, and have a pretty good idea of what we might see.

That makes the more unusual birds, like this Catbird or the recent Eastern Phoebe, all the more enjoyable. They are no longer shocking to see because they're not as unusual as we would have once thought. But we're now experienced enough to realize what a nice surprise they are. And given our worst winter in years we also have to greatly admire their stamina. Who knows how birds survive?

 More about some of my recent reading in a new post. And of course an update on this linocut.

First Attempt at Scissor-tailed Flycatcher Painting

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher at Bartram's Garden. Watercolor by Ken Januski

I don't normally work this realistically but sometimes when seeing a bird for the first time I tend more in that direction. I guess it's just an attempt to understand the bird.

I spent a lot of time looking at this wayward Scissor-tailed Flycatcher yesterday so have a mental image of it. At the same time I took many photos and this is based on one of them. It's a 9x12 inch watercolor on Arches 140# hot press paper. I used the hot press because it has a smooth surface and allows me to be a bit more finicky in getting a good pencil outline for the bird.

Eventually I'll prefer a rougher cold press paper but I wanted to be able to spend time trying to get the shape right here. Somewhere along the line I think a print will make an appearance.

I do love watercolor but it's still not my strongest suit. Today is the third anniversary of the opening of my Etsy store. Hard to believe. Since I already had another store when I opened it I planned to just use it for prints, which I was trying for the first time in many years. But gradually I closed the other store and moved everything to Etsy.

In searching through the annual statistics for the store I see that all of the top ten or more most viewed items are linocuts or woodcuts. I do think that they have more individuality. Still I know that there are some people who much prefer the watercolors. And occasionally I do as well. So I keep working at them. They are just something quite different than the prints.

On a Slippery Slope with a Solitary Sandpiper

I found two great surprises when I read Roger Tory Peterson's All Things Reconsidered a number of years ago. First he was far more than a bird man, and seemed to have just as much interest in mammals. Even more surprising was that he also had a great passion for still photography and for the movie camera. The latter may not be true but it certainly was my impression. Where I'd be excited about having the chance to sketch some birds he seemed to be utterly enthralled with the idea of getting them on film. There's nothing at all wrong with this. It was just a real surprise to me, especially for someone known for their bird art.

I confess I'm left bewildered though every time I see a commercial for some new phone that shows, and I assume shoots, video. Who in the world would want to watch anything on such a small screen? I can almost picture the owner's brain cells being siphoned off into the tiny phone, never to return. Personally I can't think of anything more perverse. When it comes to actual news I'd far rather read an intelligent article, assuming that they continue to be published, than to watch a video. I'm not at all a video person

Occasionally though I'll see someone's bird video, for instance of the Bahama Woodstar that was in Pennsylvania earlier this year, or other birds, and find myself fascinated. Recently I discovered that I can shoot video on my old Lumix FZ28 camera. So when I saw a Solitary Sandpiper at the Manayunk Canal this morning I had to try to capture it on film. That is was is above. I'm sure it is quite poor in terms of video technique. But I'm fascinated by watching this rendition of a Solitary Sandpiper. Still video to me is a very slippery slope. I assume I'll shoot very few such videos.

Green Herons, Gray Catbird and Solitary Sandpiper. Field Sketches by Ken Januski.

The home page for the  Pennsylvania portal to eBird has an article on Shorebirds in Pennsylvania right now. I quite enjoyed reading it as I see very few of these windbirds, as the article calls them. They are exciting in so many ways,  in their subtle beauty as well as their very lengthy migrations. When I saw the Solitary Sandpiper today I spent far more time than I intended to viewing it. As the article says you just don't get to see them that often in Pennsylvania. So I took advantage of the opportunity to do some field sketches, above on right hand page, as well as taking photos and a few short videos. Other birds above include two Green Herons and one Gray Catbird from memory.

A couple of days ago I had the pleasure of seeing another Solitary Sandpiper at Morris Arboretum, though he was far less cooperative than the one above. What was equally exciting though was an Osprey flying around with a fish, looking I think for a place to land so that he could enjoy his lunch. Migration season is here!

White-tailed Deer, Green Heron, Wood Ducks. Reduction Woodcut/Linocut Proof by Ken Januski.

And with migration being here it's difficult to find time for finishing my print. Well not really. I'm happy with its progress. But each day I'm torn with what to do first: go out and hope for some field sketches or explore the next step on the combination linocut/woodcut. Some days, like today, I'm lucky enough to get them both in. This print began, as best I can recall, with two different versions of a woodcut, i.e. a reduction woodcut. Then on top of that I've printed a reduction linocut in two colors. I like what I have. But I'd still like to get some yellow/greens into it, either with the linoleum block or more likely the woodcut, or even the other side of the woodcut, which hasn't been carved yet. I'd like to make it a bit more vibrant without having it start to scream, the way yellow often does when you, or at least I, add it.

Before ending this I went back to check the Peterson book referred to above. I was thinking it was there that he mentioned a bird artist should use subdued tones, something I don't agree with. It wasn't there and I think is instead in a version of Audubon's Birds of America that he edited. Sometime I'll find it and write about it. But as I read through the final essay of All Things Reconsidered, called "My Evolution as a Bird Artist" I was struck by a couple of quotes, both relevant to sketching, photography and film:

Although I frequently refer to my 35-millimeter transparencies as a memory jog, I enjoy wildlife photography for its own sake; it is action. Drawing by contrast is cerebral. Whereas a photograph is a record of a fleeting instant, a drawing is a composite of the artist's experience and selectivity.

I have found that when I am on a guided tour in the Antarctic or on safari in East Africa, there is little opportunity to sketch. Too many things are happening too fast. If a cruise director allows us only two hours ashore in a colony of 100,000 penguins, I am more likely to use my camera. Sketching takes time. I prefer, therefore, to travel by car or van, with plenty of time to dawdle if there is an opportunity to sketch.

Thankfully I had some time to dawdle this morning, though I used the camera as well because I didn't have all day. Good sketching does in fact take time though, and it often seems a luxury to have the time to indulge in it.

The Last Hermit Thrush

Hermit Thrush at Manayunk Canal. Watercolor sketch by Ken Januski.

No, this isn't The Last Hermit Thrush. Surprisingly though I think it's the last one I've seen in Philadelphia, back in November of 2012. For whatever reason we didn't see any in Philadelphia in 2013, at least not in the spring. Often they're a true harbinger of spring, appearing even in our backyard. But this year we just didn't see any. I believe the first one we saw in 2013 was in Ohio at Magee Marsh.

I've always been fond of this photo, the small bird centered in the middle of these three trees. I've often found that watercolors make good preliminary sketches for linocuts. So yesterday as I was looking through my collection of photos I decided to try a small watercolor sketch on Stillman and Birn Gamma paper (5.5x8.5 inches)

I always get scared off by trees so this made a good exercise in tree rendering, especially as they were all somewhat different. The watercolor in fact is as much about the trees as it is the bird. Nothing wrong with that in my book. This is where birds truly are, not nicely posed in the center of a canvas with nothing surrounding them.

I'm not sure if I'll end up doing a print based on this. But I am happy with it and wanted to show it.

Late August and early September bring the first southbound migrants to our small urban yard. Today it was a Common Yellowthroat, six days later than last year. Hopefully the Hermit Thrushes won't be far behind, though it is a bit early for them.

Three recent linocuts and carving tools.

I've never been completely happy with my photos of the Rusty Blackbird lino. So I decided to take this photo of the two recent White-tailed Deer linos as well as the Rusty Blackbird. I think this photo gives some sense of the richness of the color. Beneath it are most of the tools I used in carving it, the vast majority Japanese carving tools.

Running Out of Room

Deer, Green Heron, Wood Ducks. Linocut on Rives Heavyweight Paper by Ken Januski.
 

I used to run out of room a lot when I was painting large 6'x8' foot abstract paintings. In fact the old ones that I have still eat up a lot of room. When I turned to printmaking though I didn't really anticipate this sort of problem. However I forgot about drying prints. Once they're printed they need to dry. With a edition of 20 or so this can take up some room, especially if they're laid flat rather than hung.

Because of that I haven't been able to print an edition of the deer linocut above and below. I still had all the prints from the Rusty Blackbird and Carolina Wren laying around. They were probably dry but I still had the vague notion of adding a few tidbits of green to the print, just as the sparse vegetation indicated in the actual scene along the Manayunk Canal in Philadelphia last winter.

Finally yesterday I bit the bullet and tried some experimenting. I didn't think I could successfully print the three small areas on either of the original. So I improvised a screen out of a manila folder and cut out the three small areas. Then I printed through that onto the otherwise finished prints. The paper was a bit too thick to work as well as I would have like but basically it got the job done. It is shown at the bottom of this post. It has been very difficult to photograph this print, I think because of all the darks. In any case this photo is pretty close but still not as rich, or as coloristically unified as the actual print.

Deer, Green Heron, Wood Ducks. Linocut on Japanese Paper by Ken Januski.
 

Once it was finally printed I went back to work on the Deer, Green Heron and Wood Ducks lino. The first version printed in an edition of 8 is at top.  It's on Rives Heavyweight paper.

As I was going through my printmaking paper in preparation for it I found some old, unnamed Japanese paper. I have no idea what is is. In any case I decided to try it out in a small edition of 4 using a different color ink. All prints on this page are 9x11 inches with the image itself being 6x8.

I still have the thought of printing this as a color print, most likely reduction but possibly multi-block. I'd like to do more to make the main subjects stand out. But that's for the future. Today I wanted to make sure I had one edition in just one color. Thanks to that old paper I have two.

Rusty Blackbird and Carolina Wren at Manayunk Canal. Combination Linocut/Reduction Linocut by Ken Januski.