Ending 2016 with Two Woodcuts(Or Keep Calm During Chaos)

Wood Ducks in Snow on Wissahickon Creek. Reduction Woodcut by Ken Januski.

It's always a bit of a struggle to keep politics, or other things that occasionally seem important, out of what is supposed to be a blog about art, birds and nature. I try to but Trump blasts away all my resolve due to his constant attack on decency, logic, reason, fairness and just about any other quality that used to be considered part of 'civilized' behavior. So I'll just say that I expect chaos both here and in the rest of the world, largely due to Trump. It may not be immediately evident, especially if you ignore his tweets(as everyone should), but it will eventually become so. That being the case I think the Wood Ducks portrayed above, seen in a blustery winter storm a number of springs ago, may serve as a good example. They look calm and serene amidst the chaos. Hopefully the world can do the same under whatever conditions he brings about.

I'd originally intended this small 4x6 woodcut as a season's greeting card that I tried to whip out in time for the holidays just as I was also finishing the woodcut below. But I soon let it got more complicated than I should have, especially at such a small scale. Still in the end I'm happy with how it worked out. It does have the misty, blustery feel of the actual day that I saw the Wood Ducks. It is printed on a good quality Japanese paper, Nishinouchi. The ink went on a bit more sparsely than I expected but in the end it didn't seem to be a problem. I was also impressed that I could keep adding new colors and the paper accepted them without problem.

I loved this scene when I first saw it a few years ago. This print, like many I've done, is based on a watercolor I did of the original scene. Little did I know as I did it that it might need to serve as a motto for the next 4, and God Forbid, 8 years: Remain Calm During Chaos!

Killdeer and Great Blue Heron in Snow at Manayunk Canal. Two-block Reduction Woodcut by Ken Januski.

I finished the Killdeer and Great Blue Heron woodcut a few weeks ago, just adding a few minor tweaks to the last version that I posted here. As usual with prints, especially reduction prints, I often find at the end that there is something I wish I'd done differently earlier on. With a painting I can just paint over it. But not in a print. So printmaking I think really forces you to live with simplification. You can only tweak so much. The final tweaking probably took two weeks and affected only about 10% of the entire area of the print. But I do think it made the print a bit livelier, both in terms of color and tone.

As anyone who has followed my work and this blog for very long knows I'm always trying to reconcile naturalism/realism and abstraction. To me this print goes quite a way in that direction, though here I think I'm a bit more realistic than in some of my other attempts. Others may view it differently.

I've been listening to a lot of music by Beethoven recently as well as reading two biographies and taking a number of audio courses. At one point Beethoven talks about writing for the future not the past. With wildlife art it's easy to get tricked into sticking with the past. But in the end I think it's a mistake. Art needs to remain lively and not just be an imitation of the past. That is my goal in my hybrid realistic/abstract work. For me it works and is endlessly fulfilling I hope that also proves true to people who view it.

Unknown Shorebirds

Solitary Sandpiper with Wood Duck and Ducklings. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

As we got ready to leave the wetlands of Morris Arboretum yesterday I saw a flurry of activity on the mudflats at the other end of the pond. Had a new flock of peeps arrived? We'd seen three Least and one Semi-palmated Sandpipers earlier but there were far more than four in this group.

They surely were shorebirds as they were hunched over in a typical shorebird feeding position. But when I put the scope on them I found one Solitary Sandpiper, the large bird in lower right in watercolor sketch above, and many small birds. Not sandpipers though, Wood Duck ducklings. Then in the far back I noticed Mama Wood Duck. I've put her a bit closer in the version above.

I love coming across these odd juxtapositions. It is one of the pleasures afforded by birding when your interest is more than just checking birds off a list.

As is typical with so many of my watercolor sketches this is done in a Stillman and Birn Gamma sketchbook. It is tough enough to hold a few washes, yet not so expensive or valuable as to make it an inhibiting surface, where you're afraid to put down the first mark for fear of making a mistake and ruining good paper. I've found it perfect for this type of exploratory sketch.

This is based on a couple of photos from yesterday and took about 60 minutes to complete. Any more time or work probably would have ruined the paper and the work.

GBBC 2014 - Day 1

Wood Ducks on Schuylkill River. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

After posting to this blog yesterday Jerene and I bundled up and walked, with some difficulty due to the deep snow, down the hill from our house to the Manayunk Canal and Schuylkill River, along them for a mile or so, then back up the hill. Though we only saw about 15 birds they included some unusual ones: the first Common Goldeneyes we've ever seen in this area, two Wood Ducks, which are surprising to see at this time of year, and at least 265 American Robins.

As usual I'm thankful to the Great Backyard Bird Count for spurring us on to birding in worse weather than we might otherwise head into. Today it's more rain, sleet and snow. Fortunately 21 Snow Geese flew over the backyard while Jerene was out filling the bird feeders so we're off to a good start. Hopefully we'll at least take a brief walk to see what else is around.

Last year I posted a small and quick watercolor sketch illustrating, in one fashion or another, each day of the GBBC. I'm going to try to do the same this year. Above is a small watercolor on Stillman and Birn Delta paper done in about 30 minutes. I took no photos yesterday and only did some bad sketches of the Common Goldeneye so this is based on some of my older photos that show the ducks in a somewhat similar view.

Deer, Heron, Wood Ducks Combination Woodcut and Linocut Finished

White-tailed Deer, Green Heron and Wood Ducks at Morris Arboretum. Combination Reduction Linocut and Woodcut by Ken Januski.

Well this is finally done. No more cutting, no more tweaking. It's been through a lot of changes along the way, some hardly recognizable from the final result. Though it's lost some of the detail that I'd prefer in deer, heron and wood ducks it still captures the scene well:  a Wood Duck, ducklings in the water staring in dismay at a nearby White-tailed Deer. The Green Heron also looks that way but seems somewhat less perturbed.

In order to get all of these characters in I either had to use very horizontal blocks to carve or add a lot of background in a more traditional shape. I opted for the landscape, not really knowing how it would turn out. As it stands I'm happy with the landscape and my decision.

This is printed in an edition of 15: Gamblin oil-based ink on Rives Lightweight paper. The image itself is 6x8 inches and the entire print is 9x11.

Almost there...................

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

I hadn't planned to end this so soon, but once I added this green today, actually a yellow with the smallest amount of blue, I was tempted. From the moment I started this, way back when as a monocolor print, it has often read as a moonlit scene with strong reflections in the water.

I think part of the reason for  that is the strong contrast that often comes about in woodcuts and linocuts. It just seems to happen naturally. But all along I've been a bit suspicious of it because I knew I saw this scene, or at least the various segments of it, in broad daylight. The scene was bright not dark.

Today it finally looks bright again. Perhaps it's too bright. I'll have to see if I'm still happy with it tomorrow. Or instead feel like I need to tone it down a bit.

For anyone who's interested this has been the sequence in developing this print:
1.One color linocut, printed in both black and brown. These were intended as standalone prints and finished a few weeks ago.
2.A new print that will include the first linocut. First step is a yellowish red color on a woodblock. This is the first color printed.
3.A second color, somewhat ochreish, also on the woodblock, printed on top of the first woodblock color.
4.Back to the linocut. A brown, still evident on the deer, heron and ducks and in some parts of the background.
5.More carving of the linocut, for instance to carve out the deer, so it doesn't get overprinted in another color. Then printing in a dark, blue, almost black, for parts of heron, duck, log on which it stands and much of the background.
6.Back to the woodcut - this time printing a yellow green to cover over much of the background and show up in the reflection in the water and in small highlights elsewhere.

Since as I discovered too late, there was a small discrepancy in size between the nominally identical woodblock and linoblock there were some minor registration problems. But since I never worry about exact registration in my printing it hasn't had much of an effect. Still there are a couple of areas where I would be happier if the blocks had actually been the exact same size. That may require one or two final tweaks.

To a certain extent I think I handle my color prints as though they were paintings. I keep fussing with them until the colors and shapes look right, often at the expense of realistic detail. I read in the Roger Tory Peterson essay mentioned the other day about how it's common for young artists to want to get every single detail in. Eventually though this becomes of less importance. For me what is most important is the combination of shape, color, texture, light, pattern in a striking and pleasing way. I want the scene to also be readable as a realistic scene, but just readable nothing more. Detail should always be at the service of the entire painting.

Back to the Deer, Green Heron, Wood Ducks

Deer, Green Heron, Wood Ducks, Reduction Linocut/Woodcut Proof by Ken Januski

I've been planning to do another woodcut or linocut in time for a deadline next week. But I've had a hard time deciding on a subject. Finally today, with the deadline looming, I decided it made most sense to return to the White-tailed Deer, Green Heron and Wood Ducks linocut. I'd always thought I'd redo it in color, just not so soon.

Today I started carving a new woodblock the same size (more or less) as the lino. After cutting out just a few whites, as well as the three main figures of deer, ducks and heron, I printed it all in one color, the Raw Siena like color above. I then re-inked the old lino in sepia, a very dark sepia I might add, and printed on top of the woodcut proof. I like what I see, especially that the main subjects stand out again. But only time will tell just how much I'll develop it.

Carolina Saddlebags, Savannah Sparrow, Pumpkins. Watercolor by Ken Januski.

Above is one of my favorite recent watercolors, done last fall after seeing something like this scene at Rea's Farm in Cape May, NJ. Of course there is a lot of liberty taken in the combination of Carolina Saddlebags, which just would not sit down, Savannah Sparrow in the shadows and pumpkins in the pumpkin field. I've always thought it could make a good, though very complex, linocut.

Savannah Sparrows, Pencil Sketches by Ken Januski.

In preparation for that linocut I did some pencil studies from my photos of various Savannah Sparrows. But when I was done I realized that the whole thing was just too much of an undertaking on deadline. It will have to wait for another day. I still think it has great promise, not just as a print, but also as a larger watercolor. One of these days!

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.

Surprise Me!

Deer, Green Heron, Wood Ducks. Linocut Proof by Ken Januski.

Deer, Green Heron, Wood Ducks. Watercolor sketch by Ken Januski

After the last very complex lino/woodcut I felt like looking at the work of some other wildlife artists working in print. Out popped Wildlife in Printmaking , by Carry Akroyd from Langford Press. I've read it a number of times since receiving it as a present at the end of last year. One of the most common themes is that many if not most of the artists represented chose printmaking as their medium because they like the element of surprise in it. That really rings true to my experience.

Though I don't think any of the artists in that book use this exact phrase printmaking forces you into a dialog with the print. That is much of its appeal. Who knows why. You'd think that an artist would like to be in total control. But it's the element of surprise I think constantly thrown up by the process that keeps it interesting.

In any case I did do a bit of planning on the first proof of a linocut at top. I did this partially because I've never drawn or painted deer of any sort, or really any mammals. So I did a watercolor study of it below, another of the Green Heron and Wood Ducks also below, and then a wash watercolor above trying to get some idea of a composition that would work and include all of these characters. The  lino is based on the wash watercolor, though its initial inspiration came from the Conte sketch of the last post.

Green Heron, Wood Ducks. Watercolor by Ken Januski

White-tailed Deer. Watercolor by Ken Januski

I'm not exactly sure where this will go. I'd like to keep it simple because I have an idea for a different, more complicated lino/woodcut in the back of my mind. On the other hand printmaking always has those surprises so who knows. One thing I do know is that this is not a moonlight scene with reflections in water. I need to do something to change that. And of course once you know that color and multiple blocks of various materials are always an option it's easy to consider using them. At the moment though I think it makes sense to keep this simple. Just one color on one block. Time will tell............

Painting with Crayons

Wood Ducks, Mallard and Canada Geese at Valley Green. Crayon and wash by Ken Januski

Wood Ducks, Mallard and Canada Geese. Pencil sketch by Ken Januski

Once warblers arrive it's easy to convince myself that I ought to go out and look for them even if there are a million other things I should be doing. That happened yesterday. And of course, outside of three singing Louisiana Waterthrushes, they were nowhere to be seen. The highlight of the day was an Osprey sailing up and down the Wissahickon, calling in his full throated voice as he went. I say 'sailing' deliberately. The wind was so strong that he went by as though shot out of an arrow, twisting and turning with the curves of the stream itself.

I brougth both my Moleskine and Stillman and Birn sketchbooks. As I said last post I'm in the habit of using the Moleskine for ballpoint pen field sketches. When I took up wildlife art I pretty much thought that's what defined a 'field sketch.' And to a large extent that's true.

But I also found myself really admiring the more compositional sketches of a few wildlife artists, often done in the field as well. The problem with field sketches that just try to understand and portray the bird by itself is that they present a problem when used as the basis for a painting. How do you compose it? What goes in the background, the foreground? What are the colors, the light?

That's something that more compositional studies can accomplish. I decided that this might be a very good use of the Stillman and Birn sketchbooks. So yesterday I brought along a small 5.5x8.5. Zeta sketchbook. It was hardbound so I knew that could open it and use  it as one 8.5x11 sheet.

Since I'd seen few birds along the way, and since there were up to 30 handsome Wood Ducks, all at Valley Green I decided to sit down on one of the benches and at least work up a pencil sketch. None of these birds ever appeared as they do in the sketch above. I started with the foreground Canada Goose, then moved on to two different Wood Ducks and placed them behind him, then added a distant goose to his left, Finally I added the female Mallard that floated by later.

This type of compositional study is something that I greatly enjoy. In some ways it exemplifies the very center of art, especially natural art: creating something new out of things actually seen. It emphasizes creativity.

I'm not saying that this is a great 'creation.' I did the pencil sketch on site and then added crayon and wash in my studio over the last two days. I thought I was finished last night but when I looked at the photo I'd taken I saw that all the values seemed to be the same. In particular I thought it would be better to make the foreground darker than the background. This is the type of compositional decision that I think involves another type of artistic creativity.

The quintessential medium for this type of creativity is I think oil or acrylic, mainly because they allow endless variation, modification, fine-tuning. And that's the nature of the title of this post. I really do think that using these Caran d'Ache Neocolor II crayons allows as much flexibility and modification is as possible on a paper surface, outside of actually painting on paper. I think that's one thing I find so exciting about using them on the sturdy Stillman and Birn paper. I can get much closer to painting, and all the artistic fine-tuning that that implies, without actually using paint on canvas.

So that's why I call this post 'Painting with Crayons.' This process gets very close to painting. And for me it gives me the chance to try out small paintings. In that sense this is a true sketchbook inthe original use of the term - a tool in which ideas can be tried out.

I've often liked artists drawings more than their paintings. Rembrandt is a prime instance of this. They show the individuality, creativity, rawness of an artist without a lot of cleaning up to make presentable for the buying public. I think that's still pretty much true today. I often prefer the sketches of wildlife artists to their paintings. An exception I can think of right off is Bob Kuhn, mainly because his paintings don't have a high finish. They keep some of the raw power of sketches, and they make artistic composition as important as nature itself.

It's the ease with which I can make artistic compostional and color decisions with the crayons and the Zeta sketchbook that make me so happy with them as working method for art. Finally I should add that I'd never make a finished painting based completely on the sketch above. There's too much that I'm unhapy with. But it is enough for me to picture a painting in my minds eye, and think about how I might change it to make an actual painting. That's incredibly valuable. After I'd posted this I realized that another version might be good for this Saturday's demo, listed at upper right of this page. I won't have time to do a drawing and use crayons to color it so I've been planning to have the sketch done in advance. This is a variation on the crayon sketch, but this time done with the benefit of reference photos. It's done on Stillman and Birn Delta paper, at a largish 9x12 size. Something I've mentioned before but is worth repeating is that this paper erases beautifully.

The Snowy Squeal of Spring

First Wood Ducks of Sprigng - Eating Snow. Watercolor by Ken Januski

 

Once I start seeing new birds, or hearing about others seeing new birds, every day presents a temptation to go out. I can exercise, sketch, bird all at the same time. Today wasn't all that inviting but I'd remembered seeing a very early Eastern Phoebe along the Wissahickon last year and decided it was worth a try, even with a weather forecast of rain and flurries.

The flurries started almost as soon as I got there. But all it did was make the day more beautiful. Snow always quiets the environment but it does so particularly in a natural setting and even moreso along a stream. In this weather the stream seems to belong to the wildlife not the human visitors.

Part way along I heard a familiar squeal - that of the Wood Duck. Though a few had overwintered in the swan pond of Morris Arboretum I hadn't yet seen any along the Wissahickon, nor heard their squeal.

As I made my way to Valley Green the two grew to at least 13. The snow came down harder and this female couldn't resist snapping out at a flake.

As soon as I saw it I knew I wanted to give it a try in paint. Without the looseness of yesterday's Killdeer painting I doubt I would have tried this. How in the world was I going to render the falling snow, the extreme darkness of the water, the snowflake? I think yesterday convinced me not to worry about it and just improvise.

MRAC and SuperKIDS

This Saturday begins 'Art for Kids Sake' a fundraiser at MRAC (Manayunk Roxborough Art Center) for SuperKIDS. SuperKIDS was established in 1996 to aid abused and neglected children through opportunities and experiences that build self esteem, develop life long interests, and enhance strengths and talents. It will include works from the members of the Manayunk Roxborough Art Center, including my own.

The opening reception runs from noon until 5 p.m. At 3 p.m. some writers from the Schuylkill Valley Writers at MRAC will present "WRITING AS A REFUGE AND HEALING"
as an additional part of the fundraiser.

I'll be showing a number of works as part of the exhibit, which runs through February. At top is the newly matted and framed 'First Wood Ducks of Spring at Valley Green - Wissahickon' from early last spring.

I'm also including two other watercolors and numerous prints, though only one, 'Louisiana Waterthrush with Ebony Jewelwing at the Wissahickon', is framed. The Louisiana Waterthrush print is from the Society of Wildlife Artist's Show in London from last fall. Some of the unframed prints are shown in plastic sleeves in photo above.

And finally I'll be including 'Little Blue Herons at Morris Arboretum'. This is the framed, finished version. Hope to see you there.

Wood Ducks Return - Spring 2011

Hypnosis. There are certain bird species that are just so beautiful in themselves that someone looking at them, and in particular someone trying to portray them, can get hypnotized by their beauty. I had this experience when we drove by our first Ruffed Grouse in the Dolly Sods Wilderness Area in West Virginia last fall. I guess it was fortunate that I was driving and didn't have my camera at the ready. Otherwise I would have tried to get some photos and then eventually try to render that in some artistic medium. The problem, as with the male Wood Duck, is that you get hypnotized by the complex patterning and often end up with a lifeless artwork.

Far more important in wildlife art, or any art really, is getting a sense of life. If you can get the sense of life AND intricate detail and pattern fine. If not my feeling is that you should skimp on the detail.

I saw my first returning Wood Ducks in Philadelphia a week or two ago. But over the last few days I've seen them in numbers, between 12 and 18 altogether on the Wissahickon is an educated guess.

One of the hardest parts of wildlife art, especially bird art, is capturing the subject on paper before it moves. Both Tim Wootton and Nick Derry emphasize in Tim's new book mentioned in my last post that most of your time should be spent looking, not pushing the pencil around the paper. So with that in mind I resolved to put in into practice over the last few days.

But it ain't easy! Ducks are perhaps more difficult, at least if they're being whisked out of sight by a current, but Wood Ducks are even worse. My brain almost short-circuited as I tried to figure out what I was seeing, make a visual memory of it, then put it down on paper. Even on the less gaudily patterned female that huge eye spectacle complicates things vastly. I often end up with a blob with a weird eye in the middle. My attempts at field sketches are above.

The end result was that I also took photos. And when I got home I decided to try a larger, ca. 15x11 inch, watercolor based on the photos. But I ran into the exact problems that I expected. The pattern of the ducks, especially the male, is so complicated, and beautiful, that I concentrated on it above all else. I did this even knowing of the danger. But that's one problem with photos. If it's right in front of you you're sorely tempted to just put it in. In the field you can't do this. You have to make quicker, and probably better, decisions as to what to keep and what to skip.

I think I resolved this successfully. But it's interesting to compare it to the first wood ducks of the spring that I painted last year on almost the exact same date. I also did some horrible field sketches that day. This is based on a photo. But in that case I didn't worry about detail. I was more concerned with the overall painting. In some ways I prefer it.

But enough of art theory and practice. It's always happy sign of spring and summer when the Wood Ducks return. I kept thinking there was an abundance of American Goldfinches yesterday at the Wissahickon also. And then I realized it was the squeak toy greetings of the Wood Ducks.

Trust Your Intuition?

Though accepted wisdom in reduction linocuts is to print the lighter colors first I had some misgivings about this when I printed color number two of this Wood Duck linocut. I was somewhat afraid that I might lose some of the dark defining lines that were there if I used a lighter color second.

I've spent the last two days experimenting with color number three and cutting away more linoleum. Though there is a lot that I like about its current state at top, I do think I've lost some of those defining lines. So it's gotten harder to tell one duck from another. It's becoming harder to read though maybe more striking as just an abstract design of shape, value and color.

As I add colors problems of registration also become more apparent. I use a rough and ready system that has worked well enough so far. But it's not a finely tuned system. The original image I posted here showed some registration problems. I hadn't seen them when I chose it to photograph. But most of the prints are better so I've substituted the more successful one now at the top of this post.

One additional problem with reduction prints is that a lot of areas are now cut away. There is no way that I can go back in and add defining lines, well outside of carving a second block that is. All that's left to work with is the remaining uncut linoleum.

As far as the third color goes I spent a very long time testing before I finally decided on this one. The main problem was that blue or green looked better but brown was truer to reality. Eventually I ended up with this compromise.

Still to come are a dark blue/black for shadows and dark parts of the ducks, and possibly for the water and rocks under the water to the left, as well as a lighter blue for a few highlights, especially for the speculum, of the ducks. But only time will tell what colors actually make it into the print.

Simplify

If there in one thing I have very reluctantly learned over 40 years of artmaking it's the need to simplify. I say 'reluctantly' because I never really learn it. Instead I struggle through some works, finally arrive at something that seems satisfactory and is also much simpler than where I started. At that point I relearn the lesson that I ought to simplify. It works.

And yet sometimes you want to enlarge your experiences and start from new and bigger material. I think you also need to expand your horizons in order to grow. But when I do I always find that I'll eventually need to strip down and simplify the new material or the new way of working.

Not everyone of course loves simplicity. But for me it is the best way. I'm not sure that anyone would guess that from my work, but it is my own conclusion about it.

That said you may wonder about these two photos. Sort of a mess. Somewhat in need of simplification. Sure enough.

This watercolor and pencil sketch are based on some photos, and bad field sketches, I did of female and immature Wood Ducks along the Wissahickon this summer. I've always loved the light in the photo as well as the grouping of birds.

I'd like to make a linocut of this. I haven't yet decided whether or not there will be more than one color. Adding colors and carving reduction linocuts certainly ups the complexity.

I'll decide on that later. For now I'm experimenting with how I can take this subject and do it as a linocut, concentrating on line and contrast. You might say how could he make such a sloppy watercolor after the more detailed and controlled watercolor of the Yellow-rumps a few posts back? I can do it because I'm using watercolor more like a lino, trying to concentrate on lines and contrast.

I admit it's rough. But it is intentional. I'm trying to simplify the scene so that it will work as a linocut. I imagine there's still a lot of simplificaton that awaits me. But I thought it might be interesting to see the steps on the way to what I hope will be a successful linocut.

As an aside I'd also like my linocut style to leak back into my watercolors. I'd like to have bolder, more abstract watercolors. This means that I'll do less of the more subtle, detailed ones like the Yellow-rumps. There's nothing wrong with such work, and I'm happy with that painting. But I think my personal tastes runs toward something more bold and lively.

If It Looks Like Work, It Must Be Art

No. Non. Nein. Uh-uh!

As I was out walking along the Wissahickon today, sketching and counting birds, I ran across the huge rootmass of an overturned tree. Looking at all the complex shapes, textures, areas of light and shadow I couldn't help but think it could make a good subject for a drawing or painting. Then I shuddered.

Why? Well I asked myself if I was really interested in drawing or painting the complex structure. Definitely not. It held no interest. Unlike the surrounding birds, trees, water, sky and clouds. It's only real interest, at least for me, is that it would be a challenge to render the complex mass into two dimensions. But I realized it would be a technical challenge and nothing more.

Not all artists would look at it this way. There are some artists I think who do take pleasure in looking at and portraying such structures. But many don't. Instead I think they think of it more as a technical challenge, which it undoubtedly is. And of course I can't really speak for other artists. Only they know why they do something.

But I think I can read the audience pretty well. Many people like art that shows evidence of work. What better evidence of 'work' than being able to render the complexity of such a rootball into two dimensions?

When I looked at that rootball today I thought about drawing it for a second then felt the cold chill of depression. It was really depressing to think about drawing it. I think that's because it would have been nothing more than a technical challenge for me, i.e. WORK!

It's hard, and probably inaccurate, to gauge what most people who look at art think. I know that some really love it. This is evident in the joy with which they talk about it. But for many others I think it's something that makes them uncomfortable. They know art is supposed to be something good and civilized, but they don't know how to judge it. So one way is to try to gauge the amount of work that went into it. If you can see it took some work then it's good.

But this is such a sad, misguided way of appreciating art. It almost turns art on its head, from something that should be enjoyed or at least found moving, to something that can be measured, even worse measured by a Puritanical tape measure - how many hours went into it, how much time spent rendering all those shadows, each of those infinitesimal rootlets.



Well all of this leads me back to my theme of the last week or two: subject and background. I've shown paintings with no background and with complex backgrounds, one background based on the complex shapes that I actually saw, the other based on a loose representation of what I saw. I did two other watercolors at the same time and they're both above.

At top is a number of juvenile Wood Ducks seen at Morris Arboretum wetlands lasst week. Immediately above are two Least Sandpipers seen at The Wetlands Institute in Stone Harbor, NJ in May, 2010.

Another way to unite subject and background is through a unifying theme of light. Or pattern. The Wood Duck painting has both: light and pattern. The Least Sandpipers has light but less pattern. But both show that there are additional ways to unite primary subject and background in art, specifically wildlife art.

When I criticize art that looks like work I don't intend to indicate I'm lazy and only like the work of lazy, sloppy artists. I work a lot on my art and probably worked even more, in the sense of time spent, on my abstract art. I don't think that good art comes easy. It does entail work just like any worthwhile endeavor.

But I think the difference is that good art actually seems effortless. The audience shouldn't even realize how much work the artist put into it. They should first enjoy or be moved by it. Only later maybe they'll consider the work involved. But even then WORK may be something that's only visible to those who know something about art. I hope that the sense of light in my wood duck painting is enjoyable. But it was some work to figure out what areas to make light and which dark. This is the type of work that you can rightfully expect of an artist, making professional decisions about his work to make it as strong as possible. Just like you appreciate a car that runs reliably but don't really care to know the specifics of the engineering. Imagine how much less enjoyable your next ride would be if you had to listen to a recital of all the technical decisions. This is painful, a Puritanical notion of art and engineering.

You just enjoy the car for the reliable ride and art for the enjoyment it provides, no, non, nein, uh-uh for the work involved.

Thoughts from Famous Artists, No. 2

"I don't believe an artist can influence the solutions to ecological, or social, problems -- as soon as he tries to do that, his work becomes edifying and boring.
"But art that is sincere will bring the artist's love for his surroundings across to other people who maybe fail to see the beauty. Only in this way can an artist contribute to the solution of the problems of society -- but it is a process that takes time and often produces disappointing results."

Vadim Gorbatov in 'Portrait of a Living Marsh'

I just haven't been able to do much artwork recently. I have however been greatly enjoying a book produced by The Artists For Nature Foundation about the last remaining lowland marshes in Europe, 'Portrait of a Living Marsh.'

I don't know all that much about ANF so I'm not going to write about it. More information can be found at their website. If you go to this page, then click on 'Read more', you'll get a lengthy PDF article on ANF, full of many great illustrations and a lot of history. It may download or display in your browser, depending on how you have your browser set up.

I have to say I'm mightily impressed by this book. It includes essays on the ecology of this area of Poland, coupled with over 100 drawings and paintings by world famous wildlife artists who went there as a field expedition of ANF. They did this in the early 1990s. ANF has done many other such projects.

I have to confess that I had never heard of many of the artists, including Vadim Gorbatov, whom I quoted at top. But I have thoroughly enjoyed the artwork and the essays. There is such a feel of honest concern for nature and honest love of portraying it. I think that's why the Gorbatov quote struck me. The best way to convince others of the value and beauty of nature, or anything else for that matter, is by portraying your own love for it.

I originally posted this last night without any artwork. I just hate doing that. So this morning I did this 30 minute watercolor of a Wood Duck and ducklings at Tinicum. I can't say it's a great step forward. But it is something to look at.

Arboretum Birding

I think it's three weeks in a row now that we've spent a few hours birding at Morris Arboretum in Philadelphia on Sunday. We've birded there for years but I think what has motivated us to get there three weeks in a row is my desire to work from life. Because the highlight of Morris birding is the pond there are a lot of water birds, some shorebirds, a variety of other birds, and maybe most important the space to put up a scope and get a good look at many birds. Over the last three weekends we've gotten good looks at Wood Ducks, Belted Kingfishers, Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds, Kildeer and Eastern Kingbirds among others.

Both I and my wife have been able to do a number of sketches. Mine from this weekend(seen at top) are primarily Wood Ducks and ducklings, a Great Blue Heron and a Ruby-Throated Hummingbird. The small watercolor pencil sketches I did in the backyard last weekend.

I've been preaching the virtues of working from life for years but it's only this summer, partially through the influence of the Wildlife Art forum at birdforum.net, that I'm really trying to make a regular habit of it. I have to add that Debby Kaspari at her blog has suggested working from life for years as well. But for some reason seeing so many people working from life at the wildlife art forum was enough to finally push me over the edge. Happily, my wife Jerene, has also been doing her own sketches. So this is working out well for us. There's still a long way to go but I'm already seeing progress. One of these days maybe my more finished drawings and paintings will actually be based on live fieldsketches rather than photos that I've taken.

I can't remember how many years ago it was that Morris started developing its entrance, and Paper Mill Run, as a wetlands area. I'd say at least five and probably more. Over recent years it's become a better and better spot for birding. Shorebirds, herons and egrets, warblers, vireos, ducks, raptors can all be found there and all on the same day. We first started going to the Arboretum to see the trees and shrubs, which are of great interest to us, but since the wetlands appeared we never do much at the arboretum other than bird the wetlands. But on a slow day there always are the shrubs and trees to admire. Today's highlight I think had to be blooming Ironweed and Joe Pye Weed.

To wrap up this post I'm just going to list the 28 birds we saw today:
Northern Flicker - 2
Willow Flycatcher -1
Belted Kingfisher - 3 (one a youngster?)
Song Sparrow - 6 at least
Northern Mockingbird - 1
Wood Ducks - 2 adult females, 4 juvenile and 6 ducklings
Red-winged Blackbirds - 20+
Catbird - 2
Great Blue Heron - 1-2
American Goldfinch - 5
Eastern Kingbird - 3 (1 young?)
Cedar Waxwings - 5
Ruby-throated Hummingbird - 1
Eastern Wood Pewee - 1 (heard only)
American Crow - 1
Eastern Phoebe - 1
Common Grackle - 1
Red-bellied Woodpecker - 1
Mourning Dove - 2
Black Vulture - 3
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher - 2
White-breasted Nuthatch - 1
Carolina Chickadee - 2
Tufted Titmouse - 1
Red-eyed Vireo - 1
Yellow Warbler - 1
Downy Woodpecker - 1
Robin - 1