Style - Curse or Blessing

Sometimes you hear people talking about an artist's 'style.' They mean generally something that easily distinguishes one artist from another. Really well known artists, e.g. Matisse, El Greco, Cezanne, Donatello, Mondrian, all have individual styles. But a style, especially for a living artist is both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because it indicates that there must be enough consistency in their work for viewers to notice it. They've at least accomplished consistency and aren't just foundering wildly from one style to another. But it's also a curse. What artist wants to do the same thing over and over again? I think this is probably most evident with musicians. How often have you been to a concert where the artist insisted in performing it somewhat differently than you had memorized it note for note from constant playing? I remember the first time I saw Bob Dylan and he played his songs at about twice their normal tempo. Artists really resist being pigeonholed.

There is a reason I bring this up in relation to the painting at top. I think most of my recent pastel work shows something that comes natural to me, a type of boldness. I don't say this to pat myself on the back. Boldness isn't necessarily good. It's just something I feel at ease with, at least when working with charcoal and pastel.

But today I decided to paint a Ruby-crowned Kinglet. I've tried to draw them from life for three years or more, never with any success. That's in fact been the subject of past blogs. In this case though I liked some photos I took this spring of some kinglets right over my head. I thought about doing a pastel, and still may. But for today I did a watercolor. Do you see the problem?

It is not bold at all. It is delicate and a bit tentative. When I looked at the photo, as well as searched my visual memory, I just couldn't see being bold with a kinglet. It's a petite bird. It's surrounded by petite, delicate blooms. The odd thing is that I found it easy to work this way. But I'm not sure that it really suits me, and it certainly doesn't fit with my pastel and charcoal style.

I don't think this is necessarily good or bad. It's just something that struck me as I worked on it. And it may be why I have a vague uneasiness about it - like someone else came in, stole my psyche, and whipped this out.

The watercolor above took about 30 minutes. I whipped it out as an illustration for my blog on Devil's Walkingstick. This also really isn't in my style. Or is it? Anyone who reads this regularly knows that I've done quick watercolors for at least the last year. Often they're done for a purpose just like this: to illustrate something. Generally I'm in a hurry so I work on them very quickly and don't bother with niceties. And generally I like them, even with all of their flaws. That's the case with this Robin in Devil's Walkingstick.

In a way I guess it's bold. Or maybe it's just the work of someone who's impatient. Come to think about it that may be my true style: Impatient.

Near Temptation of Lens

I've spent the last week thoroughly immersed in the wildlife artist forum of birdforum.com. I was led there by Jo through a reference to the work of Nick Derry in my last post. What an enjoyable trip it's been. There are some really, really good bird artists there. More important, at least to me, is that not only is it good but much of it is based on field work. It's both observation-based and artful.

To make a long story short the time spent there has convinced me that I really do need to spend more time working from life. There is just no way around it. Fieldwork is what keeps you connected to the subject. So today I forced myself to work from life. Today I stayed in the backyard. Tomorrow I may go afield, if I can convince my wife that she'd also enjoy it.

I knew that we have had a hummingbird around quite a bit the last two weeks so I wanted to see if I could get some sketches of it. And I knew I needed to avoid 'the near temptation of lens.' No photos. I wanted to draw what I saw with my naked eye, or through binoculars, unadulterated by a camera.

As you can see I managed a few very small hummingbird sketches. It just didn't sit still. The one time it looked like it might (see bird on wire) a robin landed on tomato cage and scared it away. That sketch is really from a mental image. Even the robin wouldn't sit still. So his sketch includes two composite views.

Unidentified wasps and beetles landed on my drawing table or on the honeysuckle next to my chair. So they also got included. I've spent years drawing insects under a microscope but this was one of the first drawing them live. Wasps don't sit much more still than birds. I haven't identified this one but if I have time I'll do so later. Actually I think I have identified it. It's one of the thread-waisted wasps: a mud-daubing wasp.

The final subjects are floral: a helenium just budding up, a half-spent monarda and a honeysuckle blossom. The hummingbirds love the monarda and the honeysuckle. As common as monarda is it is really a spectacular flower. I don't think most orchids can top it for exotic beauty, especially if you look closely at each flower.

There aren't any great drawings here. But it was great fun forcing myself to work from life. I enjoyed it so much I didn't even notice I was using my old nemesis, watercolor pencils and waterbrush.

Flocking Robins, Pleasures of Fall

This will be a quick post because I just wanted to capture a few photos of the beauty of fall in our backyard. For the first time ever, at least that we have ever seen, robins are rampaging through the yard gobbling down the crabapples from our one tree. We planted it 15 years ago in the hopes of atracting birds but it really hasn't been all that successful. Until the past few days. The tree has been covered.


As you may be able to see an insistent, young starling also managed to get in to the crabapple and steal some fruit for himself.
Each October our zinnias seem to look their best. They are such pure, rich colors in a world that is starting to fade. In one more effort to save the suet for birds like Downy Woodpeckers and not from thieves like squirrels, I put up a clothesline and put the suet on that. Hopefully the squirrels stay off and the birds enjoy the food and the beautiful view of the zinnias.



Our very last color in the yard comes from salvias. Below is the first sign of color on a Pineapple Sage. Our 'Tula' salvia has not quite started to show its blooms yet. Soon however they'll both be in bloom: the last glorious color before the grays of late fall and winter.