Starting Robins, Finishing Gulls

Someone on a birding site I frequent suggested that artists there submit work based on either European Robins or American Robins that they've seen in the last month or so. I believe the European Robin is a traditional Christmas bird so that was the idea. And then since many Americans frequent the site the subject included American Robins.

Of course this was a day or two after all the flocks of American Robins had gone through our crabapple. In the next three weeks I only saw one or two robins, and then only briefly. Then yesterday they again came through as a large flock, stripping off most of what is left of our crabapples. More power to them! That's why we planted the crabapple to begin with.

But I was too busy to sketch so had to settle for some photos. That in turn led to the numerous sketches below, which in turn led to the quick watercolor at top.

One odd thing with the photos is that all of the birds look somewhat rotund rather than lanky as I tend to think of this common bird. And my drawings and watercolor pick up that stubbiness. That bothers me. But I'll have to hope that they come through again and I have time to do live sketches.

I'm not thrilled with the watercolor. An adult male robin can be really striking. The combination of black, rust orange, white and gray makes for a resplendent bird. That's what I tried to catch. But I don't think it's quite there.

In working on this painting and the drawing I realized how complex both the eye pattern and the bill are.The bills curves down from the top in a surprising way. And the white eye ring is broken up by numerous black spokes. If they weren't so common American Robins might be one of our most sought-after birds.

I also finished the Laughing Gulls print a few days ago and printed an edition of 12, one of which is for sale at my etsy site. It's hard to believe but it went through 10 more versions after what I posted here.

The main reason for that is that much of a Laughing Gull is gray. And yet the wings looked black in the version I posted. Since this is a one color print, all black, I needed to try various linear techniques to get the sense of gray, or at least to differentiate the wings from the true black of the head.

As I did that I found that I also wanted to change the water. So one thing led to another and pretty soon a largely dark print became a largely light print.

Building a Better Bird Print

As I continue with relief printing I keep trying new things. Over the last few days I looked for a new subject. Finally I decided on a reworking of a quick watercolor of some Laughing Gulls I did early this year.

As you can see it's just a very quick watercolor. As I look at in the flesh almost six months later it's pretty disappointing. And yet there is something I like about it as well as Laughing Gulls in general.


So I decided to do some more sketches of the gulls based on photos I've taken over the last couple of years. The first sketch is the gulls in various poses.

The second was my idea for the final composition.

Once I had an idea for the final composition I needed a way to get a reverse image on the linoleum block(since it prints in reverse). Like last time I copied the final sketch onto my computer and printed it at the same size as the block. I then covered the broad outlines in red chalk.

Doesn't look very hopeful does it? Then I rubbed the paper on top of the block so that it would transfer and give me a pattern for cutting the linoleum. It looks even more hopeless.

You really wouldn't think you could anywhere with that would you? But for me most of my work is improvisatory. I react to the medium itself. I just need a framework to start. The version at the top is number six for today.

Most likely there will be a few tomorrow before I call it quits. So far I'm happy. I particularly like the variety of marks as well as the gulls themselves. What I'm not quite happy with is my rendering of the gray on the back and wings of the gulls.

Finished Print, Started Printsy

My ancient Speedball black ink ran out this week so I had to postpone my work on the Yellow-crowned Night Heron until I got an order of new ink, Gamblin 'Portland Intense Black'. That and a new brayer and baren made the printing of the edition of eight go much more smoothly.

But I still have a lot to learn. Since the ink seemed thicker and smoother I didn't press down as hard with the new baren. The result was that some of the prints were a bit splotchier and not as uniformly black as they should have been.

I also might have removed a bit more linoleum than I wanted. So the print became a bit lighter in tone than I'd intended.

And finally I probably should have used the yellow ink rather than hatching a bit more to get the sense of tonal variation. But I'm learning as I go.

All in all I'm happy with this. My first reduction linoleum block print ever!

I've also realized that I like the forced inexactness of linoleum prints. Though I can do detail, and did in my old insect drawings, I take little pleasure in it. It's just not for me. I think I feel freer doing linoleum prints because I don't even have to think about exactness. Instead I can think about other things, like liveliness, color, design, pattern.

One thing I rarely mention here is business or commerce. And yet most artists really would like to make at least some money from their work. If you happen to read national newspapers, wildlife art journals, or assorted other media you can't happen miss reports on auction prices of art work. Much of it goes for many millions, by artists half my age. This isn't true so much of wildlife art, where the prices seem to go down by at least 10 times, e.g. $100,000 vs. $1,000,000. And then there is the average artist, who's lucky if they make enough to pay for their supplies.

The quality/price equation is something I'd love to write about. But if I did I might never do any more art work. It's just too large a topic and one that makes me too angry. Like housing much of the art world has been taken over by speculators. That explains the multi-million dollar prices.

So enough said on that. But artists still need to make some money, enough to cover their supplies if nothing else. Even though I have an online store I'm always interested in other ways for artists to sell their works. I'd heard of etsy but on very quick glance didn't like what I saw. And there was just too much to sort through.

Then I ran across Printsy, the Printmakers of Etsy. All of a sudden I had a context and community for my new interest in printmaking, as well as a possible outlet for sales. So a few weeks ago I joined etsy and this week joined printsy. My store is located here. Though it includes some watercolors from my other online store I expect it to primarily feature prints.

If you have any interest in printmaking I'd encourage you to stop by my site or visit the other sites on printsy. It's a good way to see a fair amount of printmaking.

Some Last Words on Money and Wildlife Art

One day after posting this I finished reading Nicholas Hammond's wonderful 'Modern Wildlife Painting.' The final words seemed particularly apt:

"The paintings (or reproductions) that command the best prices are not necessarily the best when judged by artistic or even scientific criteria. For those innovative wildlife artists who do not achieve financial success their satisfaction may come from the knowledge that their interpretation of the wild and its creatures has led or will lead to a deeper appreciation of a wild time and place."

Continuing Down the Printmaking Trail

Thanksgiving's passed and linocuts continue their siren call. As I think I said in my first post on linocuts I haven't done any printmaking in over 30 years, outside of a brief time when I taught etching about 25 years ago. So no printmaking of any time in over 25 years.

But now that I'm back working on a new print I remember printmakings addictive qualities. I'm sure not everyone would agree with this. Some people don't have the patience for it. You don't see your results as you work as with most other media. You can't see the results until you ink up your work and print it on paper, either manually or using a press.

Normally I'm not a patient artist. But for me the need for patience is outweighed by the element of surprise. I'm sure that there are some printmakers who can visualize every mark they make and know how it will look when it prints. But my guess is that most printmakers don't. I probably shouldn't say what most printmakers do or don't do though, since I don't know any and haven't for years. But for me there is always a great element of surprise in printmaking. I never know what the changes I've made to the plate/block will look like until I pull a print. I love this. There is a sense of having a dialog, a give and take, with your materials. There is always the element of surprise.

Another appeal of woodblock printing and linoleum block printing is that it lends itself to high contrast patterns. If you want you can emphasize every gouge mark you make. Though I work in many ways, and can appreciate many styles of work, I think that high contrast is something that comes natural to me. And pattern does as well.

This makes for bright and bold, some might say garish, work. Since I often work that way anyway it's nice to work in a medium that encourages it.

And finally, to end my list of appealing things about printmaking, all of the extra work that goes into it pays off in multiple prints. A print is normally not one of a kind. You can print as many as you'd like. And, if you're at all concerned about the cost of your work being prohibitively high to some people, multiple prints allow you to offer each one at a lower price. All of this is appealing to me.

It is untrue however that I can print as many as I'd like of the print at top, an immature Yellow-crowned Night Heron that I saw this summer. I posted watercolors of it this summer. The reason I can't make innumerable prints here is that I've used 'reduction printing.' I've never tried this before. As far as I can tell the proper way to do it is to print each color separately, carving out that area once it's been printed. But once you've done that the first color is gone. You can no longer go back and print more copies of it.

So for this one I printed eight copies of the print using yellow ink. The areas that I had carved out before inking the block with yellow ink printed as white or the color of the paper. But the next step was to print in black. So I started carving out the areas that I wanted to stay yellow, the color of the paper, or both. I'm part way through that process now. I've run out of black ink so am waiting for a new shipment before I continue.

But I'll never be able to do more than eight prints. That's because I can never go back to the yellow portion of the linoleum block. It's been carved away. This is a rough summary of a technique I've never used before. So take it with a grain of salt. I think it's accurate. Certainly it's accurate about what I've done. Maybe in a year or so I'll be able to talk more authoritatively.

Stay tuned for the completion of this print. The next challenge will be to register the paper properly. When I'm happy with what the black portion looks like I'll ink up the block with black ink, put down each of the sheets that have already been printed in yellow and try to get them registered correctly. Then we'll see what we'll see.

Thwak!

Thwak!! That was the sound the young Red-tailed Hawk made as it left its perch 10 feet above and in front of us and landed at our feet, less than 6 feet away. I assume that he thought he spotted something though as we watched and sketched him today at Morris Arboretum we never saw any sign of him actually capturing anything. The next thing you knew he flew straight at us missing our heads by less than three feet!

I've been reading a wonderful book over the last few days called 'Modern Wildlife Painting' by Nicholas Hammond. It covers American and European wildlife art over the last 200 years more or less. One repeating theme is familiar to me: berating wildlife art that relies too much on photos and too little on real life experience and field sketching. He mentions artists like Liljefors who were active hunters, who lived in the natural world, and knew it through experience.

Being a city dweller, even though I grew up on the outskirts of a small town with farms and fields nearby, I realize that my experience of nature is limited. I don't 'live' in it, except as it exists in cities. So I can ID a hawk. But I really can't tell you much about it. Today's experience was exciting in the sense that it gave us a glimpse into the hawk's life from his perspective, not ours. He was hunting. We were unwitting witnesses.

I did a field sketch of the hawk that is below. The bottom sketches show him after he landed right in front of us. At least one of them captures I think the sense of movement as he tried to plant his feet and talons firmly on the prey, which may or may not have actually been there.

At top is a quick watercolor based on a photo I also took at that time. What's most amazing to me about the photo, and what I tried to capture in the sketch, is the way his legs showed enormous strength and his wings were pulled up as though he was going to use them as weapons. In doing the watercolor I tried to capture the strength and forcefulness of the hawk at this time. In some ways it doesn't really look like a hawk. But this is pretty much what I saw. Animals can always surprise you, as long as you take the time to visit them in their world.

I also did some quick field sketches of Canada Geese at Valley Green a few days ago. They're below. They are a very common, and often unloved, bird. But they are wonderful subjects for drawing.

November Surprises

When we went to Cape May the first week of November it really wasn't when we wanted to go. We wanted to go earlier but circumstances prevented that. One consolation though was that I'd read that November was often the month of big surprises at Cape May, especially for West Coast migrants.

We didn't see any. However I had to think of it when a west coast warbler was reported just 7 miles away yesterday. Improbably it was also the first day for bird walks at the Cobbs Creek Community Environmental Center in Philadelphia. Who would have expected a Townsend's Warbler, on the first or the 10,000th walk?!

Still that's what it was and some great photos were taken. You can see how we might be tempted to go hunting for it, something we've never done before. We bird locally and on vacation but never make special trips to see just one bird. But this was too good to pass up.

Well I did see a bird with a face patch today, only eight feet off the ground, that others clearly identified as the Townsend's. Jerene got a couple of looks, not much better, but enough to piece together the bird. I brought my camera and sketchbook and was really hoping to do a field sketch. Not today though.

However yesterday we had another November surprise, a Fox Sparrow in our backyard. They are not exactly rare birds here. But I doubt that we see them more than once a year in Philadelphia. And we've never seen one in our yard.

He didn't stay long, and it was getting dark, so I didn't get any sketches. I did get a couple of quick photos though and did the quick watercolor at top based on one. It leaves a lot to be desired but at least serves as a record of our first ever Fox Sparrow.

Lino on Hosho

My newest foray into linoleum cuts, number three in my career, is at top. It is version number 11 and is pretty close to being the last version, if not actually being the finished version.

It's based on the watercolor above, based on a photo that I took at Morris Arboretum this summer. I know that there are plenty of more experienced lino printmakers on the web, many giving step by step narratives of their prints. But since this is my first one on good paper and went through a lot of steps I thought I'd show some of them here.

I began by scanning the watercolor, then reducing it in size to about that of the lino block. I then printed that and made an outline in chalk of the major shapes. I then rubbed this onto the lino block. Because linos print in reverse if I'd just drawn on the block while looking at the watercolor the end result would have been in reverse. I didn't want that so I used the process just detailed.

Once I had the chalk on the block I made a few cuts. But once lino is gone it is gone, just like wood or stone in sculpture. So I wanted to proceed cautiously. The very first version is above.

I then moved on developing various areas, and responding to what the various proofs looked like.

Above is version five. At this point I still intended to let the foliage next to the heron go to the top of the page. But as I experimented with various ways of hatching in order to get the sense of tones I made a mess. The area was just a jumble. So finally I decided to let the background fallen tree show through and divide the foliage into two shapes.

It took 6 more versions after that before the print seemed to come together. As I said previously I've been using some very old Japanese printmaking paper whose name I don't even know. It's been rolled up for years so has been difficult to use. But finally I ordered some good paper. The version at top is the first proof pulled on good Hosho paper.

Most likely I'll print an editon of 10 or so of these on the Hosho paper.

November Ospreys

When I first started the prototype of this blog, at what was then a web site, one of the motivating factors was seeing an osprey at the Wissahickon in late fall, November if I remember correctly. We rarely see osprey here. But the more I've birded the last few years the more common I see that they are, particularly in spring and fall migration.

Still it was worth noting when I started talking to people at the Wissahickon on my last two walks and each time an osprey flew up and landed nearby. Yesterday a woman I didn't know stopped me, I'm sure because of my binoculars, and asked me if I knew anything about birds. Then she described an osprey, which promptly flew up and landed in a nearby tree with a fish.

After a few minutes I told her I just had to draw it. The result is below. It was an immature so had far more markings on its feathers than an adult osprey did.

When I got home I decided to try a linocut based on the sketch. The results are at top. I think it looks quite a bit different than the recent American Bittern.

I had to decide what to include in the background and decided to stick with an empty sky. But I'm not sure how well that worked. To a certain extent the print looks cartoonish. But I think it still gets some of the sense of the osprey.

In researching woodcuts I found an old book I had on printmaking. As I looked at it I realized I got it when I taught a course in printmaking. I'd completely forgotten about this, mainly because is was so long ago. As I recall I only taught etching. Still it was a surprise to recall that someone had once actually paid me to teach it. As anyone who has taught college, or maybe had any job, knows though, someone is always asking you to do something a little outside your area of expertise. Such was the case with me and my printmaking course.

Bittern Redux

I believe I mentioned in my post on field sketching in Cape May that it was frustrating to have the best look I've ever had at an American Bittern and find that my pens wouldn't work. The combination of rain on the paper, the paper sizing and the ink from pen just became the epitome of recalcitrance. The pen wouldn't make marks.

But I chanced harming my camera and took a few photos of the Bittern just standing stock still out in the rain. Yesterday the developed prints from those photos arrived, just as I'd picked up the first ever linoleum blocks I've ever bought or used from the local Dick Blick. I'd been downtown for another appointment and decided to wander in and look around. Always more expensive than I'd planned.

In any case before you knew it I'd done some quick sketches from the photos, found my ancient woodcut carving tools and well as some larger wood carving tools, dragged out some ancient Japanese woodblock paper whose name I no longer remember and started to work.

Above is the third version. I'm really not sure if versions two or three improved on version one but I had to give it a try.

Those readers who've seen my charcoal drawings won't be surprised that I take to woodcut and now linoleum cut. I do have a predilection for graphic quality in art. I can appreciate many types of art and work in many ways. But I do feel comfortable with this.

My guess is that I'll eventually move on to woodblocks, even though wood can be the epitome of recalcitrance itself. But for now I think it's going to be linoleum. Of course multi-color is a temptation but I better resist for awhile.

And of course I'll have to revisit artists like Andre Rich and Kim Atkinson both of whose work has always struck me.

Season of the Sparrows

Sometimes as I look out into our backyard and the tens and tens of House Sparrows at out feeders I forget how beautiful sparrows can be. But like much of nature, including the insects I used to draw, nature when seen close up is rarely ugly. Sometimes the beauty is bold. At other times it's more subtle. Such is the case with sparrows.

Last week we saw some particularly handsome sparrows: Swamp and Savannah. And yet they're really nothing compared to Lincoln's or LeConte's, the last of which I've never had the pleasure of seeing. I think I still had those sparrows in my mind when I started this watercolor of a Song Sparrow today.

Song Sparrows are common for most Americans I think. But they still have a striking beauty. This one has just picked off a worm from nearby leaves. It's a bit more toned down than usual for me but I wanted to keep the background toned down so that the sparrow could have his moment in the sun. This is done on 300# Arches cold press paper and is 9x12 inches.