Cat Break

Over the last couple of days I've seen a life bird(Redhead)less than a mile from home and also heard the first singing bird of spring, a Song Sparrow singing loud as could be. I only heard him because I was driving with the car windows down during a day of unseasonably warm weather. But those stories will 'have to wait.

My wife is a huge cat lover and we have a number of them. But cats are trouble for an artist. They are so 'cute' and so even attempting to draw or paint them always takes on the huge burden of 'cuteness.' So I've always avoided them, even our own exceptionally cute cats.

But we've always had a favorite cat. He died a number of years ago. For Valentine's Day I decided to try painting a portrait of him, based on some photos. I think it does look quite a bit like him and his posture, king of the garden. For many years the garden seemed empty without him. But this brings back those sunny summers. For that reason it seemed like the perfect Valentine's Day present.

Spring Marches Steadily On

It's hard to believe that spring is showing some signs of appearing once again. I wish I could say that I've seen these signs personally. But I haven't. It's just what I've read. The PA Rare Bird List has included reports of the first singing Tufted Titmice and Song Sparrows. In Delaware I believe I read that a Black-crowned Night Heron had returned. Soon, especially if there's snow, we'll see members of the blackbird family in our backyard, at least for a moment or two. It's about time to see some Common Grackles along with our unwanted guests the Brown-headed Cowbird.

Today I wanted to try a 'flash' painting, an exercise where you do a painting without any pencil sketching in 15 minutes. I decided to use some photos of the first ever Cattle Egrets that we saw in Cape May, NJ last November. The first attempt took 30 minutes so I couldn't really count it. The next one took only 15 but when it was done I felt it was incomplete. So I later went back into it. The results are at top. I probably spent a total of 30-45 minutes on it.

Paintings like this aren't finished. They're just exercises that sometimes also look like paintings. I do like the sense of life that they often have, even if there's little sense of finish.

Cattle Egrets do in fact seem to march, or strut, often leaning backwards a slight bit. They march steadily on, just as I hope spring will continue to do.

Steps Along the Way

This is one of the prints from a finished edition of 12 of the Greater Yellowlegs feeding. I made extremely small changes to it from the last version that I posted. There is much detail lacking in the plumage and I was sorely tempted to put it in. But I was afraid that if I did some of the stark contrast would disappear. The print might be more naturalistically accurate but artistically diminished. After a few days of thinking about it I decided to leave it as is. I'd like to experiment with bolder prints and I think that this is the only way to get there.

Above I'm showing the first 6 proofs of this print. They show the progress as I went along. Many artists from what I can tell have a good idea as to how their finished print will look and just start carving and keep going. But I'm not like that at all. Who knows if I'll ever work that way. Instead I have the vaguest idea of what I want and then improvise as I go along, reacting to each proof and then making changes based on what I see. So I thought some readers might be interested in seeing this. As you can see at top left I start off with only the vaguest sketch of the Greater Yellowlegs. I don't want deep cuts to begin with because I first want to see what they look like. If I'm happy with them I'll eventually make deeper, bolder cuts. If not, well I'll try my best to cover them up!

The finished edition by the way is for sale at my Printsy site. Complete images are 9x11 inches, and the image along 6x8 inches. This is an edition of 12 on Rives Lightweight paper, using Gamblin oil-based inks.

Sensing A Pattern

I think I mentioned in last few posts that I like going back and forth between the more careful, detailed, restrained style of some recent watercolors and the greater boldness, simplification and greater abstraction in my linocuts.

Since I've done a number of such watercolors over last few weeks it seemed time to get back to linos. But what subject?

I did a number of sketches as tests and finally settled on four feeding Greater Yellowlegs that I saw a couple of years ago. I was tempted to do the Golden-crowned Kinglet on same sheet of paper but finally opted for the yellowlegs. I'm also showing a watercolor I did of them from a photo from a year or two ago.

This watercolor is much different from my recent ones but that's because at that time I was trying to develop some freedom with watercolor and not use it tentatively as just a medium quietly at the service of the underlying drawing. At that time I skipped drawings and tried to do it all with a brush. It was a very useful learning experience, and one that I'm sure I'll go back to.

For now though I just wanted to use the basic scene as the basis for a lino. One difference is that I substituted one feeding yellowlegs with another one that had actually caught a small fish.

And pattern? Why title the blog 'Sensing a Pattern?' Well I realized back when doing the Laughing Gulls linocut that both woodblock prints and linoleum block prints really lent themselves to lines, and to patterns formed of lines. Though I've tried to give some sense of modeling(the creation of a sense of roundness) to my linocuts this isn't something that these woodcut or linocut excel at. At best you can use a type of hatching to suggest roundness. But you can't use the actual modeling, the gradation of color to suggest modeling, that comes so easily to painting. So modelling is difficult and somewhat counter-intuitive in these media.

In this print I decided to greatly lessen modeling and instead concentrate on a flatter design with more sense of pattern. Water lends itself to pattern so this also seemed a good reason to concentrate on pattern.

Just one problem: I can't really see patterns before they're there in front of me. Some people might be able to visualize how to develop a pattern in a print before they start carving. But I can't really tell what type of patterns I might want to use until something in the first proofing of the print suggests itself to me, just as some sculptures tend to see a pattern in a piece of wood or stone.

I've developed a pretty strong sense of pattern here, perhaps so much that it overshadows the yellowlegs. I don't think so but I think it's time to take a break and let this sit. As with watercolor it's too easy to cover everything with color or cut away all the linoleum. Sometimes it's best just to stop and take a break.

This is 6x8 inches on printer paper. Once I'm finally happy with it I'll print an edition on good paper.

Drawing is the Foundation

I've just realized that every winter, generally sometime in January, I start doing drawings based on photos I've taken. I think that this is because I feel a need to exercise my drawing skills. They're really not getting exercised much in field sketches because I'm just not getting out much or if I do it's too cold to sketch.

This year I'm sure the desire to do accurate, careful drawings is also related to the simplifiication that I use in my linocuts. So I feel like I get back in balance my sketching.

The watercolor at top is based on some photos I took of Kildeer at Morris Arboretum late this summer or early fall. I did three detailed pencil sketches then added watercolor. At one time this method only inhibited me. I was far too cautious about not getting outside the drawn lines with watercolor. Now I realize that the lines are just a guideline. I notice them but try not to be limited by them.

It's a truism of art that drawing is the foundation of everything else. Well every once in awhile a truism is actually true, at least for me. And I'd have to say that at least 90% of my favorite artists, wildlife or otherwise, are skilled draftsmen. There's just something so satisfying about changing a three-dimensional object into a believable two-dimensional representation. Even during the many years that I was an abstract artist I loved drawing, especially from life.

In some ways I suppose it's like music. At least for many people there's an innate impulse to draw, just as there is one to sing and make music.

In any case that impulse to draw is I think what got me to create this newest watercolor, 11x14 inches on Strathmore 140# watercolor paper.

A Passion for Blues

It may sound weird but I probably feel as strongly about a great blue heron as Matisse did about a female torso(I'm only talking about aesthetics of course). If artists supposedly reflect the concern of their times, then today when nature is the greatest concern on a global scale, I suppose nature's images would be logical for a contemporary artist.

Sculptor Kent Ullberg as quoted in American Wildlife Art by David J. Wagner

I finished off this wonderful book by David J. Wagner right in the middle of my latest linocut. What struck me about this quote is that it gets to the heart of the primary subject of this blog: art that is based on nature, not just nature, not just art, not just nature sketches, but ART in capitals, that uses nature as its subject.

I'm using a bit of hyperbole in saying ART in capitals but just a bit. If you think of the best art, whether it's music, literature, painting, sculpture, novels or whatever you know that it has high aspirations. And it must meet at least some of them or it wouldn't be widely recognized.

My background is fine art, where at least in theory the goal is to create art in caps. Of course much doesn't and much is preposterous, bombastic nonsense. But the goal is honest I think. However for the last 100 years or so I don't think that there are many in the fine art world who really even consider art with nature as its subject as being fine art. By definition it is a lower form of art.

Now I know that this is nonsense and it's a very foolish, arrogant attitude. Nonetheless it's there. Wildlife Art Journal often touches on this theme as well. But I've yet to read an argument that I think will hold water in the fine art world.

Until I read the Kent Ullberg quote above. Nature is a overriding concern throughout the world today and it only makes sense that ambitious artists should use it as their theme.

That said I thought in the back of my mind as I concentrated on finishing the linocut that when I was finished I'd write a post such as this and illustrate it with a quick Great Blue Heron watercolor.

But as I looked through my photos I got distracted by my photos of Black-throated Blue warblers from this fall. Perhaps I care as much about them, and the Hercules Club that they feed on, as Kent Ullberg feels about Great Blue Herons.

Sad to say much of the breeding habitat of this beautiful warbler is being threatened by indiscriminate energy exploration and extraction in the Marcellus Shale fields of Pennsylvania.

End of the Wood Ducks Reduction Linocut

This seems like it's been a long haul. But I finally printed the final edition of 16 of the Wood Ducks seen along the Wissahickon this summer. There are a total of 5 colors in this reduction linocut.

By the time I got to the last color, the light blue, I found it hard to roll on the ink without getting it into areas I didn't want. That's because 95% of the block had been cut away. So there were only a few small areas to ink. Even with a small roller that I applied to each of the areas that needed to be inked some of it migrated elsewhere. This also was a surprise because those areas had been cut really deep, I thought deep enough that I wouldn't have to worry about the roller touching them.

All in all I'm happy with this though. It's taken some liberties but that's one reason I like linocut. It lends itself to taking liberties, to abstracting, to creating a higher contrast than might actually be seen. Not everyone of course uses this medium in that way. Robert Gillmor for instance is much more precise, as is Andrea Rich in her woodcuts. And yet I think both also tend to use the higher contrast that seems so natural to these media. Linocut and woodcut seem like the perfect blend of realism and abstraction.

The print is on Rives BFK paper, 9x11 for the full print, and 6x8 for the image itself. It is an edition of 16, printed with Gamblin oil-based inks.

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.

An Unituitive Choice

I spent much of yesterday carving out the area where color number two would print. Then I spent more time trying to decide on the actual color. As I said in last post I'm mixing colors in this print. So I can't go straight to the tube or jar. I have to mix the colors, make a test proof and see what I think.

At one point I decided I wanted a little green in the brown that was going to be the second color. Well my proportions were off and instead I ended up with the deep slate blue of photo number two above.

The problem was I loved it! The strong contrast with the white of the paper and the golden brown of the first color just looked great. The first color I tried, more of a burnt umber tin, is the final photo above. Though I liked it I much preferred the second darker, bluer color.

However if I kept it then I had to either make the Wood Ducks a darker, bluer color than they really were, or I had to go on top of the dark blue with a lighter brown color. This should work but would it? I wasn't sure.

There was one other reason to go with the dark blue. The darks, including the blue-black that lies ahead as a future color, are a very important part of the print. If I got them at this early stage then I knew I didn't have to worry about losing them. If a lighter color overlapped I could do a test proof, see that, and carve away that lighter area so the dark stood out.

This latter reason was a real temptation. But in the end I decided to do the unintuitive and use a lighter brown, trusting that I'd be able to put back the dark blue-brown on the third color. That is the print at top. It's on Rives BFK paper. The other two are just tests on copier paper.

For the future: the dark blue-brown, a blackish blue, probably some light blue accents on the wings. I'd really like to get a green tone in the water, as I actually saw. But for the moment I think that may be too much.

I was just reading Robert Bateman today saying that as he uses colors he may plan A, B, C and D. But he noted the same problem I did yesterday. Each color affects the next. So once I put down the color C it will change how colors A, B and any future colors look. Stay tuned.

One last thing. For me this is the exciting part of printmaking. I don't really know what will happen. I can just use my best judgment based on years of experience, then improvise if necessary.

Off to the Duck Races

After a number of days doing sketches, thumbnails, watercolors of the immature and female Wood Ducks that I saw along the Wissahickon this summer it was finally time to get started on the linocut.

I began yesterday and decided early on that it would be a multi-color reduction cut. After I print each color that part of the block is cut away so it can never be printed in that color again. This is a lot of work but seemed like the best method for this scene. As it will only be my second reduction cut I'm not brimming with optimism but I'm not scared off either. Sometimes certain methods just inspire confidence while others inspire dread. I have confidence with reduction cuts. My guess is that this is because linocut is a rough, inexact and forgiving medium.

I'm also taking another new direction here: mixing colors. I mixed a couple colors in my reduction print of the Yellow-crowned Night Heron but basically I've stuck to out of the jar colors with linocuts. I'm so new to the process that I didn't want to add to the confusion by mixing my own colors. That changed here.

The print at top is the first color. It's a goldish brown, intended to be reminiscent of slow moving streams in the sunshine in summer. They're muddy looking, but also have a golden glow. Future colors will probably include a blue for portions of the wing, a green, or maybe blue over the golden yellow for some of the water, brown for the bulk of the ducks, and a black or dark blue/black/brown combination for the darkest areas.

As many have said though, color doesn't exist in a vacuum. All future colors have to work with the current colors. So once I start the second color I'll see how it works with the golden brown. My guess is that a fair amount of color changes will ensue.

I pulled 16 prints on Rives BFK paper today, along with 20 proofs on printer paper. I'm sure I'll run through those 20 proofs quickly as I try out future colors and cuts. I'm almost certain that 20 won't be enough. But 36 pulled prints today was more than enough for me to say: enough!

Who knows where this will go? But it should be exciting. We're off to the races

P.S. The second photos shows an earlier proof using a darker color. Only over time did I get what seemed to be the right color. The actual linoleum block is also there, both on my old woodworker's bench hook, which is ideal for holding the block as I cut it.