pantagruel

What I'm working on, 2: shadows

Here's last night's work on the painting; I laid in the shadows, glazing over the underpainting. This is officially the Ugly Stage.

That's all just transparent red oxide, prussian blue, over the burnt umber and titanium white. Seriously. Two colors over white and brown, and I got all of that. All you need is a warm and a cool, a light and a dark. More colors on your palette doesn't make you a better painter. Which sounds like I'm being a bitch, I suppose, so let me explain:

There's always one person in a class or workshop who is utterly convinced that if they only used the right tubes of paint, then they, too, would be Sorolla or Rembrandt. There is no secret tube of paint that will make the heavens open up and make your work look amazing, but you cannot convince these people otherwise. They will spend the entire time looking at the instructor's palette, or asking what colors they're using to get an effect, and not ask anything else. They won't ask about the thought process, about mood, about logic, about brushwork -- nope, all just about what colors are being used.

It drives me batshit, because they're missing the point.

Since you all seem interested in the underpainting, I figured I'd post the whole process of painting this thing. Even when I would rather hide this stage and just show it finished.

art, painting, studio

What I'm working on

Finally had a chance to paint today, as opposed to all the Not Painting/Not Drawing/Not Writing I've been doing lately.

Had lunch with an old friend today, and as I was explaining that I hadn't done much painting lately (read: none), I thought, 'Okay, this is lame. I'm being lame. I need to just get something on canvas.' It is amazing how just one look of mild reproach from a friend can be the spur I need. Thanks, E.

This is an underpainting I just did, from a sketch I did a couple of weeks ago. Once it dries, I'll start laying down color on top of it. I wish titanium white dried faster, though --even in this heat, it still takes somewhere short of eternity to dry. Hopefully by tomorrow night, I can start glazing.

My study of Caravaggio's Sick Bacchus stares balefully at me from the wall it's leaning against. Sigh. Maybe I'll work on that while this is drying. Or maybe I'll varnish dried paintings.

Or find some new way to procrastinate, like doing work for the day job. There's certainly plenty of that...

comic-con, or friends and zombies

This year, Studio 2nd Street had a booth at Comic-Con.

It was a quiet booth, living a quiet life, bothering no one, until the artists came.

The madness started shortly after that, as soon as the Mad Hatter (who is secretly my friend Danny) showed up, 10 minutes after the con opened.

The artists drew on Thursday. This artist discovered that painting friends-as-zombies is hard. And painting while hundreds of people walk by is extremely difficult. Not to mention hard on one's ego, when you usually can paint like this:

But the painting of friends-as-pimp&ho-zombies was tragically overdue, so it had to be done.

The artists drew and painted so much, that the booth couldn't hold them all, so they had to go upstairs for their panel. Upstairs, there were people waiting to see the artists paint and draw.

There are no pictures of the painting and drawing, as the artists were too busy painting and drawing to take photos of themselves. Also, that's a good way to cover your camera in oil paint, which cameras do not like. The panel was nervewracking, but went well. At least, that's what some of the audience said later.

This artist then left to go have beer, as there was sadly no beer in the booth. So she went to Stone Brewery, where her friend was reading, and also drinking beer.

The pole did not drink beer, in spite of many people's efforts to pour beer on it.

On Friday, this artist wore a different corset to paint in. Like you do. Especially when you're modeling corsets for Alter Ego.

This is a good way to be given a security escort to get back down to the exhibit hall on Friday, and pretend you're Important. Don't I look Important?

And then there was more unfinished painting.

  

And more friends I rarely see.

At the end of the day, and after the painting, there was more beer.

The booth did not miss us while we were out drinking beer. Not one bit. There were other booths, some with flashing lights, even.

And even though Ron strayed and painted the other booth with lights, we liked our booth the best in the end.

Other people came to the booth and gave us free paint.

So, of course, they had to be tested.

Jon Enge came by, pretending to be Johnny Breen, and proving that any Poxy Boggard is interchangeable, as I'd long suspected.

Some of the studio's models came by, wearing clothes, which made them almost unrecognizable.

Jen usually looks like this. That NASA jumpsuit is a good disguise.

On Saturday we left the booth and went to dinner with this guy, who drew Justin. Lucky, lucky bastard with his interesting mustache.

On Sunday, the booth watched me paint this in cat-herder extraordinare Ryan Graff's Sandman sketchbook. Started with this sketch, from last October:

Which became this:

Which became this:

Ryan promises he will send the hi-res scan over.

There was more drawing across the way at Allen Spiegel Fine Arts. This famous guy, working on this piece (final drawing here).

He did this of Vanessa.

My sketchbook now has this as its first page:

I have my orders.

Then the booth started complaining about having had all of the artists in it. Uppity, ungrateful thing.

So it had to die.

The booth swore it would come back next year, as a zombie.

Be ready.   

art, artist, comic-con, corsets, studio, zombies

Comic-con

As regular readers of my blog have guessed by the sudden decline in posts, it's that wonderful time of year known as Nerd Prom, aka San Diego Comic-Con.

Every year, I battle through a massive anxiety attack to get my work together enough to show and get feedback on. This year's anxiety is compounded by the stress of having had my day job at Saltmine U. be in peril. I have less staff, and slightly more work than I did last year. I've been so busy spending the last few months proving I was useful, that all my spare time (such as it is) was spoken for. That doesn't leave much for doing illustrations. Being an art director has had to be my primary focus; being a student came second; and any socializing, either online or in person, was rare. I worked Faire to fulfill a commitment I'd made to help two good friends, and while I don't regret it, it meant I spent two months with no days off at all.

Not surprisingly, my immune system pitched an armed revolt a month ago, and I succumbed to the plague that's been sweeping the West Side. Only in the last two weeks have I been able to get through an hour without coughing, or had anything resembling energy.

Which is all to say: I'm not as prepared as I'd prefer to be for the major industry event of the year. I've done a lot of good work, and I'm proud of it. I just wish I were further along with my current projects, so that I could show them. But hey, I'll bring them down to Comic-Con!

This year will be my very first as an exhibitor, and I'm beyond thrilled to have this chance. I'm going to be with the studio I'm at every Saturday: Studio 2nd Street. We're booth #5361. I'll be doing painting demos in the booth all four days, and will also be part of this panel:

Thursday, July 23
4:30-5:30 Drawing Upon Reference— Ron Lemen (ImagineFX magazine) and Studio 2nd Street Group will cover the subject of photo reference and how to use it when you have to use it. This lecture will briefly cover the do's and dont's of copying photos for your illustration work and some basic guidelines for drawing an effective image. Room 30CDE

Yeah, guess who's going to be showing you all how not to use photo reference.

As if that weren't enough, I'll also be modeling corsets for Alter Ego while I'm there. Hopefully that will generate a lot of business for Alter Ego. It'll be a challenge to not get upstaged by the corsets, but I think I can manage.

If you're going to be at Comic-Con, please come by and say hello!

Yesterday's painting

Yesterday, Sabrina came to pose; here's the finished underpainting. I had a tiny canvas panel of natural linen I'd been saving for a figure pose, and the pose she took was perfect. The 6x11 panel is being cropped, I suspect, by Typepad's iPhone client -- her feet are actually on the canvas. I was getting worried for a while, as my initial drawing was beating me up and taking my lunch money. Instead of having something decent laid in after the first sitting, I was still wrestling with the charcoal drawing after an hour. My heavy-handedness gets really problematic when using soft charcoal in a small space: a 1/16" line is fine on a large canvas, but on a small one, it gets ugly fast, as proportions get thrown off by a line that's no longer a line, but is becoming a plane, with a volume of its own.

I think I got there in the end, though. Next week, I'll glaze color over this and build up the lighter areas so that they've got volume.

In other news, I have work, and plenty of it. I'd love to have both money and time to take a vacation, but it's going to be a while before I have enough of either. Right now, though, I need coffee, and some lunch.

Underpainting

Yesterday afternoon's work: a burnt umber & white underpainting of Ian. Next week, I'll glaze color over it. I'm pretty happy with the likeness, though I made him slightly older. I don't know why it's easier for me to pull out form when I'm starting with a dark or neutral background, than a white one. But it's so much easier for my eye and hand to work together when I do.

through a gel darkly

For the last few weeks now in Saturday's color theory classes, we've been painting either still lifes, models, or color wheels. Only, to make it more difficult for me, I have to paint the subject while looking through a color gel.

Like so:

And so:

This isn't nearly as easy as it looks.

what my saturdays look like

A shot of my easel, palette, and chair, from Saturday, at the end of class. Oh, and the painting. And the model, Jean.

I badly need to get a little folding table for my palette, and a chair, so I can sit more comfortably when painting at home. Check out the bucket with my painting gear in it -- handiest damn thing ever.

So this, or a view very like it, is what I see most Saturdays.

Technorati Tags: art, studio

Post-show studio

The studio, one week after the show. I'm pleased that my painting is still up. Our skeleton keeps a watchful eye on the students.

It's been a long week, and an even longer month since I had art classes. Today's the first day of the new term, and it's good to be back. Even though this place can drive me nuts, I miss it when I'm not here.

15 people in the morning painting class; only seven in the afternoon's figure painting. We'll have 18 people in tonight's environmental design class: I predict a lot will drop after they're introduced to the evil of perspective. I, however, have had this class before, and suffered through the perspective class: I'm ready. Mwahahaha.

going wodwo

Tonight at Studio 2nd Street, the 'Change' show opens. I thought the painting I'm doing was going to just about kill me, but it didn't. (There were a few ugly, ugly moments, though.) About two months ago, when I found out about the show's theme being change, the first thing I thought of was Neil Gaiman's poem, 'Going Wodwo:'

GOING WODWO

Shedding my shirt, my book, my coat, my life
Leaving them, empty husks and fallen leaves
Going in search of food and for a spring
Of sweet water.

I'll find a tree as wide as ten fat men
Clear water rilling over its gray roots
Berries I'll find, and crabapples and nuts,
And call it home.

I'll tell the wind my name, and no one else.
True madness takes or leaves us in the wood
halfway through all our lives. My skin will be
my face now.

I must be nuts. Sense left with shoes and house,
my guts are cramped. I'll stumble through the green
back to my roots, and leaves and thorns and buds,
and shiver.

I'll leave the way of words to walk the wood
I'll be the forest's man, and greet the sun,
And feel the silence blossom on my tongue
like language.

--Neil Gaiman

I love this poem on many levels; it's one of my favorites. Ever. So I emailed Neil and asked if he'd let me adapt his poem and make it a painting. And a couple of hours later, he said yes, of course, be his guest.

That was, as it turns out, the easy part. Deciding how to do it and what part of the poem to focus on had me in a state. Because, you know, no pressure or anything, when you're only doing something with Neil Fucking Gaiman's work. When I ran into Dave McKean at Comic-Con, I told him I'd gotten myself into this. He laughed knowingly and said, 'And now you're terrified?' I nodded. He smiled and told me it'd be fine.

After I'd decided what to do, and worked out the thumbnails, getting a model was a minor goat rodeo. Finally, my best friend stepped up to the plate, and I took a couple of reference shots Monday afternoon, and got started. About 30 hours over the space of this week later, I finished.

The color's all off, because it's wet and I'm not good at taking shots of my paintings. It's much more like a Caravaggio in tone.

This one has the most accurate color of the shots.

A closeup of the stylized forest background.

In about an hour and a half, I'll be taking this down to the studio, to hang for tonight's show. I'm nervous about whether or not Neil will like it; how it'll go over at the show, and if it will ever dry. If you're in the San Diego area, or just feel like driving to Encinitas, come down to the studio and see it, and me.

Wish me luck.

Technorati Tags: art, deadlines, neil gaiman, painting, poetry, studio