Ode to Teachers

I'm almost recovered from the intensive and extensive 5-day workshop, and have some time to breathe. I got several comments on the breakthrough I've made at the end of the workshop. Retrospecting on the experience, I did get a lot from it: using shapes to create interest and introduce abstraction to realistic paintings, applying value bridges to achieve gradation and softness. Also, I am notorious for being the master in knocking back bright colors, and I think this workshop has finally convinced me to spare some of the color and leave it pure, so it can sing among all the neutrals. (and yes, color can sing! All you need to do is listen).

So, a big part of it is thanks to the tedious process of exactly following the rules that John Salminen gave us, and doing his process, step by step, grunting and hair-tearing included.

However - around the second day of the workshop, I realized that if I hadn't taken Mike Bailey's 'Watercolor Beyond The Obvious' class (twice!!), I honestly don't think I would have gotten all the things that John Salminen was teaching. Looking around at the workshop, you could easily tell those of us who went through Mike's class (which also comes with its share of hair tearing and being kicked out of your comfort zone), from those who didn't; the latter looked utterly puzzled and didn't quite know what to do with all that knowledge that was so generously showered upon them.

So Mike - I know I've said it to you many times, but it's never enough:

THANK YOU!

This class you're teaching is truly, utterly and absolutely invaluable! And the fact it keeps proving itself over and over again, even more than a year after I took it, speaks for itself. OK, now you can go blush at your convenience.

Y'see, sometimes, when the rain is plenty but the soil is too dry, the abundance of water form paddles or flow away rather than penetrate, enrich and bring new growth. It's the same with art (and many other domains). The more you know, the more you can absorb additional knowledge. And once you found a really good teacher - you don't let go. You take the same classes over and over again.

'cause even if the class is the same, you are different. Each time you start from a higher place; things you already know get deeper meanings and connect with other bits of knowledge; things that were Greek to you suddenly click and make sense - and your level of knowledge is spiraling upwards. And this is what growing is all about.

I consider myself very lucky to have found several such teachers (four, so far). Now, if I only had the time to be a frequent taker of their classes...

And, to two of these teachers (who are actually closer to being mentors!) who read my blog, Mike and WackieM: I often wonder if you are aware of the impact you have, and I think it would be so cool if one day I could be the same to some artist who's doing his or her first steps in the ocean of creating.

A friend from my hi-tech past once asked me, "you are taking this class again??? Why? did you fail it last time?".

Quite scary to think that I also used to think like this only 5 years ago...

All Good Things Come to an End

The workshop is over. As always, mixed feelings of "I am finally free to paint on my own!!!" and "Ah, I wish it lasted a bit more".

The last day started with a demonstration of how to paint a reflective surface - in that case, John Salminen painted a quarter sheet of a rainy street scene. He just did his magic, and did a pretty cool little painting.

We then proceeded to work on our paintings, continued to a potluck lunch, in which w'all sang "Happy Birthday" to John, who kept his cool and went for the startled-yet-amused look. He blew out the candles and shared the birthday cake with us.

Then came the last part of the workshop: the dreaded critique session.

Each of us put their painting of the easel. Since there were 18 of us, we had to pick only one painting per artist: either the abstract on which we worked for 3 days (some of us kept working on it until the every last moment today), or the piece we did to incorporate the lessons into our own style.

While it would have been nice to get my nonobjective one critiqued, it was more important for me to get feedback on the one that is closer to what I would paint after the workshop. Especially since I was struggling with it. During the morning, I tried to figure out why the portrait does not work. One of the workshop participants came by and commented that it's the colors I used - and she was right. It's true that once you have your value pattern right, it doesn't matter what colors you choose. However, since I was not just going for likeness, but rather tried to capture John's essence and personality, the colors I was using were just wrong; they were too vivid, too sweet, too obvious. in the 5 days we got to know him, I got the impression that John is a complex deep person, which calls for more subtle, neutralized colors. Lime green and orangey pink totally do not describe him! Plus, the background was way too distracting. So, I said G'bye to the intense colors that were in his face (to the horror of a couple of the participants) and started to go over them with more, shall we say, manly colors. I then toned down the garish background that was fighting for attention, and it was starting to look much, much better!

When it was up for critique, after come inevitable self-diminishing comments from John about his looks (mind you, he's quite a looker!), he gave his comments about my painting - and I could finally breathe... It is so intimidating to have someone look at a painting of himself, but since John is an artist, he was not concentrating on the likeness nor sued me for making his face fatter than it is (can you say Ernest Hemingway?...). I was very happy with his comments, especially when he glorified the lost edge of the face in the white shape, complimented me on the rich neutral colors and said - listen to this - that the painting has luminosity.

Luminosity!?

Never, ever, has a painting of mine been connected with this word. (When I shared this bit of his critique with WackieM, she almost fainted laughing - see, she knows my work!). Apparently, these value bridges and shapes had a major impact on me. I usually just blend everything together, and pretty much avoid shape. John Salminen is the first instructor who managed to make me paint shapes rather than a big blur of colors and then lines. And y'know something? shapes are so much fun!!!

So, this is where the painting's at right now. It still needs some work on the face (The JohnnyB demands that I fix his protruding forehead and transplant hair on his bare temple...), it screams for some major work on the background - but I am starting to like it. (go to the buttom of the previous post to see the updated slideshow).

oh, Oh, OH - almost forgot!!! while we were having lunch, John stood up, announcing there's one bit of business that needs to be taken care of. He asked the workshop coordinator to pick a number between 1 and 18.

"16", she said.

"Number 16 gets the demo painting", he smiled, checked the list in his hand, and added, "Number 16 is - - - Nava".

And so, I am the owner of a John Salminen painting!!!

How.
- - - - --- Very.
- - - -- - - - - - - - - - Cool!!!

And now I feel indebted. I promised John that when I manage to paint a good portrait of him, I will send it. Like, painting exchange. OK, OK, so he is John Salminen and I am only Nava, but still!

Of course, when The JohnnyB came home and was promptly asked which of the three paintings is his favorite, he pointed at the painting that I won. Story of my life.

OK then; still a long way to go...

...and yet - as I was hoping in the first day, quite a bit has rubbed off. That was one great workshop - went for it with very high expectations, and - - - they were actually met!

Never Rush!!!

That's what they keep telling us, in so many words. Take the time to think; plan; consider your next step; take breaks; put the painting aside for a while and come back to it - but never rush. Ever.]

Today I did.

Actually, I was rushed, as the workshop ends tomorrow, and the instructor emphasized it's important that we bring the painting to a finished stage. Don't ask me why, and I did ask him why we cannot put it aside so we can have time to decide what should be the final touches. He said he'd rather have us finish it, and - since didn't want to be a troublemaker, I went for the last stage: using acrylics for covering some areas.

"Acrylics in watercolor?", I hear the gasp of some watercolor puritans.

Yes.

When worked into the paper straight from the tube with very even brush strokes, acrylic paint dries flat and dull, emphasizing the transparency and luminosity of watercolors and making them sing and show off all their stunning attributes.

I followed instructions, obeyed the orders (although my poor neighbors got real tired of the complaints galore I chanted the whole time...) and applied acrylics in some areas of the painting. I just couldn't let it be all boring and flat, though (sorry - not my painting style), and as you can see in the bottom right corner, I managed to have some fun strokes with it. Still - rushing it was not wise, and after fulfilling my civil duty to try and bring it to a finished stage, I stopped in time, before I totally screw it up. It really does make the watercolor areas shine! I'll probably come back to this painting in the future - pending the verdict of our critique group (they will be utterly shocked to see me bringing a non-objective painting!).

And then, my dear readers, THEN I finally got to the part of the workshop that I've been waiting for: doing our own thing, and apply what we've learned to our own style.

I browsed through several photos yesterday, trying to decide which one to do, but I knew that once the instructor lets go of the leash, I'll probably cheerfully gallop back to my comfort zone: no white, neutral colors and very close values all over. But I wanted to kick myself out of my comfort zone (otherwise, what was the point of struggling for these last days!?).

What would make me actually try and incorporate what I've learned in this workshop?

This morning, I had the revelation in the shower, the modern times Eureka! As I told you, I kept taking photos of John Salminen, the instructor of the workshop. He has a great expressive face, wonderful hair, beard - what more can you ask for? (OK, I would ask for a hat, but I'm not pushing it). So - if I do a portrait of him, it will kinda inspire (even force!) me to use his ideas, as the subject sometimes dictates the style. Just like I could not do FergieJ in neutral colors.

Now - painting someone's portrait is always intimidating. Doing it when the someone is an esteemed workshop instructor, during the workshop itself, while he is walking around and critiquing the work, and all the participants keep coming to look at the progress and check for likeness... that is just - what: crazy? Ambitious? Insane? challenge? stressful? bound to fail?

I'd say all of the above - - -

- - - obviously, I went for it!

Took a reference photo, did my drawing upside down (thank you WackieM), found my white shape (mouse included), surrounded it with light values, added darks, started to develop value bridges, and got very close to tears, as the first stages are always hideous and discouraging... As WackieM says, every painting has its teenage stages, which you really don't want anyone to witness.

But - it's starting to come along. I got several comments that if I am after likeness, then it's quite successful. I know, I know - right now it looks like last night John had a bit too much to drink (see the red nose?) and got into a pub fight that gave him a nice shiner. Well, don't jump to conclusions - wait till it's finished.

In the meantime, enjoy the slideshow:

One more day to go!!!

Closing In

John Salminen's workshop, Day 3.

As BearGal likes to say, the first day of a workshop always start with an ecstatic "ah, this is going to be the best workshop ever!". The second day, you keep your optimisim with "well, let's wait and see". Then comes the breakdown, "what the hell am I doin' here!?". The next day is "hmm... I may still be able to save the painting", and the last day it's pretty much "I am soooooooooo outta here!".

Well, I jumped ahead: I wanted to be outta there on the first day, and what-the-hell was yesterday, big time! But - today was in fact really fun - we introduced collage into the painting. Some were appalled by the idea, pondering "Why would I want to cover parts of my painting with printed material!?".

As the instructor put it, "so you can say you did it!".

Honestly, I admire his patience. I guess one just has to adapt some serious survival skills when delivering many workshops to many people. Most of those who take workshops (and I know I'm optimistic here!) are open-minded and have a genuine desire learn; but there are always those who pay a bunch of money, dedicate days, energy and materials, schlep themselves to wherever the workshop is taking place - just to sit and do their thing, without paying attention to what the instructor says. Well, to each his own. It's quite amusing to look at the workshop participants and see how the same types keep occurring: the whiner, the rebel, the follower, the attention grabber, the one who never bothers to listen (but then bothers everyone around), the talkative (I am grateful to WebbieM for suggesting the use of an iPod, or in my case, an MP3!), the conqueror who keeps sneaking into your space - - - Ah, the joy...

So, after 2 days of gnashing my teeth and curbing the mutineer Aries in me that kept alluring me to throw everything to the wind (yup - I'm usually the rebel!), today came the reward.

I did a few collages with tissue papers I have dyed (one of them is The JohnnyB's favorite!), but never used magazines for that, so today was a very new experience.

The instructor told us the secrets to combining collage with a painting: start subtle, going with pieces that have the same value and color scheme as your painting. Avoid recognized symbols, words and objects. As tempting as they might be to use, they will distract from the painting itself. You want to enhance your painting, not let collage take over it - unless you want to turn it into a full blown collage. John delighted us with a story about a woman who took his workshop, did a great abstract painting, and then collaged an image of Snoopy in the center of interest. Why? 'cause her granddaughter loves Snoopy, and she wanted to give her a painting.
As a homage to that little tale, when my time came to get final OK on how I placed my collaged pieces, I found a pair of tacky green parrots in one of the magazines, and planned to put them in my focal area, just to see the reaction. But - we had to rush it, as a photographer from a local newspaper came to take some photos of the workshop for a cover story about our organization, so I had to give up on that, and just told the highly amused John about my vicious plan. Sometimes, it sucks when duty calls.

Anyway - I thoroughly enjoyed the collage part. I brought a bunch of magazines, and found a welath of pieces that had colors and textures that were just made for my painting - it was almost creepy how well they fit in, and added incredible touches.

Here's the current stage of the painting. There are quite a few pieces of collage in it - can you distinguish them from the watercolor paint? The JohnnyB could hardly tell most of them, even in close inspection.

Tomorrow the workshop is taking a turn: we can choose to work on our own thing, and the instructor will walk amongst his admirers and advise how to incorporate what we've learned into our work - which is the real challenge. I am extremely curious about this part!

Year of The Mouse

Do not trap the mouse - that was the big challenge today, the second day of the workshop with John Salminen.

Remember the big white shape we each found yesterday? One of the requirements was that it is continuous, as the eye needs to see white as a continuous shape. Scattered whites will cause the eye to jump all over the painting, rather than smoothly follow. To make sure we do not forget that, the instructor told us to think of the white shape as a maze with a mouse that's running inside it. the mouse has to be able to run around without bumping into any obstacles or having to jump.
OK, we all tried our best to keep that in mind.

Now that we all had a nice white shape, we were to come up with a dark shape. As opposed to white, a dark shape can be broken, and the brain will connect the parts and see it as one shape that's underneath the white. John warned us that blocking in the dark shape will immediately make the painting look terrible. The extreme contrast is so striking it seems almost garish and makes the white shape seems to float on top and the darks are way underneath.

Yup - he is right.

The next stage was to go for linkage - create value passages that will tie the white and the darks. This is done by gradually building up from white to light to middle values (and the same for the darks), making sure to keep our shapes interesting and - - - yup, to not cause any distress to the mouse.

We spent the rest of the day doing that, grunting and muttering the whole time. At one point, TreasieJ asked when would be the right time to burst into tears... indeed, like in all workshops, this was much, much harder and bewildering than it looks when the instructor does it. They always come with gorgeous results, and we... we end up gazing with horror at what our hands produce!

But very slowly, things started to shape up. More important: the paintings are beginning to look different, and the style and personality of each artist is coming through. Each of us had a private session with John, in which we put the painting on an easel, and he would look at it, silently, for a frightening while, and then give his critique and ideas for improvement.

I've got to tell ya - this is one exhausting workshop! Which is my excuse for this dry post.

That is the stage my painting is at right now. Tomorrow we'll be incorporating collage and acrylics to our painting - and THAT should be fun!!!

What's that you're askin'? Do I like my painting??

Well, to be honest: not really.

This is so not the way I paint, and every right brain cell of mine is protesting against this process and the subject. But I keep telling myself that this is a workshop. It does not mean I need to start painting like this from now on. It's about coming out of it with some valuable lessons that I can - hopefully - incorporate in what I love to do.

So no, this week is not going to turn me into a non-objective painter. I still am very much into figures and faces, and spontaneous expressiveness. And yet - would be interesting to see how I paint when I get to paint again in my studio.

The Quest for the Perfect Shape

It's been almost a year since the last time I took a workshop.

Interesting thing, workshops. Some artists attend every workshop available, some hardly ever take any. I am closer to the second kind. In my short time as an artist, I have found that technique-related workshops confuse the hell out of me. I guess I am a self-taught kinda gal, as I learn best from my own experience, exploring what appeals to me at the time.

I also learned to stay away from instructors who teach their technique and style, rather than help you grow. Which is why am limiting myself to those who are more about providing you with the infrastructure of design, composition and color. Those are hard to come by, but they do exist. One exquisite example is Mike Bailey's Watercolor Beyond The Obvious class (yup, the one in which you paint 20 paintings of the same thing and curse the day you started...). That is, by far, the best thing an artist can go through, as it changes forever the way you approach painting! Another one is WackieM's class, where she pushes you to explore and experiment without trying to make you paint like her (Ha! if I only could!!!).

And this week, I am taking what seems like another such workshop, with John Salminen - an incredible artist whose work I admire. He does a lot of urban scapes and some figurative work, and as he attests, he is somewhere in between obsessive compulsive and anal retentive painter. Y'see, you don't just look at his paintings - you get mesmerized by them, as they are a wealth of interesting tiny shapes and little surprises and colors that pop up unexpectedly for your eyes to feast on. You just wanna to stand there and savor it forever.

His paintings have such strong design to them, that I decided I just have to take this workshop and bask in his greatness. Maybe some of that would rub off. There's always hope, eh?

At the very beginning of the workshop, he said is going to have us do only one painting during the first 3 days, and I thought it would be neat to post the stages and share the wisdom I am getting, so you see how something that starts from what-the-hell-is-that gradually becomes a masterpiece - or a complete disaster: we'll know in 3 days.

The process he is taking us through is as far as can be from the way I paint, and I keep fighting my inclination to rebel against it with all my might - which is a good sign, as it means I'm gonna learn a lot. Today was the first day. He gave a short talk (while I kept taking photos of him - he has a great face!) and then had us begin the labor. First, we did simple drawings of four objects he that chose:
1. Empty paper bag
2. Head of a spray bottle
3. Tape dispenser
4. Piece of plastic with a clip.

Yeah, I know... v-e-r-y inspiring.

Then, we took a tracing paper, and started tracing the four drawings on top of each other, so the objects got totally lost and became one big random jumble of shapes. Oh yeah, it looked like a terrible mess!

Next thing was to transfer this grand drawing to a full-sheet of watercolor paper. Aghast, we looked at each other and at him... I mean, this is one complicated arbitrary drawing! But, with a blue-eyed smile, he suggested that we fold the tracing paper to get 16 rectangles, then draw 16 rectangles on the sheet of watercolor paper, and transfer the bits of that jigsaw puzzle, one rectangle at a time. Well, that was perhaps the most boring thing I did since I started painting. Excruciating would be an understatement...

...an hour or so later, when we all looked 10 years older, we were then sent on a quest to find "one big white shape" in our drawing. Not just a shape, mind you, but a good one. What's a good shape? Ah - it should be irregular, unpredictable, oblique, connected - and touch the edges of the paper (at least 3 times). And it needs to occupy a third of the space. How do we find it? by connecting lines from the shapes galore on our paper. Oh, and make sure it has a dominance of either geometric or curvilinear lines.

We each worked on finding our big white shape and went to get it critiqued by him (I got mine approved without any corrections - yay!). I went for a curvalinear dominance (not a big surprise for a figurative painter) and proceeded to the next step: surround my shape by painting a light value in the negative spaces around it.

Finally - color gets in the picture!!! we get to use our brushes!! But wait - we have to consider temperature dominance: do we want the painting to be cool or warm?

And right then and there I stopped whining, as I saw where he was going with this torture. Y'see, it's one thing for an instructor to lecture about design and have the students sit and nod with glazy eyes. But - when the students are forced to work hard and incorporate all the design considerations into the process, in a way that is laborious and annoying, well, that makes sure it will stick! A similar method to Mike Bailey with his 20 paintings: they make you suffer and curse and bitch and moan - and from that comes greater art, as MembieK told me (would have been more convincing if she was not so totally gloating about the fact that I am the one taking this workshop and not her!).

From that also comes significant exhaustion, especially after a week of last-minute arrangements for our annual party and the grand event on Saturday, which has left me highly adrenalized but tired beyond belief.

Time to get some sleep - another workshop day awaits tomorrow!

ArtPact #15

(Originally published on April 22, 2007).

So, the long feared class took place on Saturday.
WackieM has warned us since this advanced portrait workshop has begun, but we kept denying it, choosing to not think about it, concentrating on other things instead. Some of us, even dyeing countless tissue papers. . .

And yet - the moment of truth has come.
The dreaded lesson of all: Self-Portrait.

S E L F - P O R T R A I T ! ! !

And not from a good flattering photo that we carefully chose, mind you...

No - we were going for the real thing. A self portrait done the good old way, drawn and painted from life, sitting in front of a mirror. And no just any mirror; a Mary Kay mirror, which WackieM has brought to class. (Never heard of Mary Kay, but I know her name makes American women very excited, pink Cadillac and all).

Before we even started, I did a quick one, just to see what I can come up with without getting any education on the subject. Just scribbled with a pen on paper, and went in with some color.

Hmm... as you can tell, I was still in the pissed-off mood.


Then WackieM had us approach capturing ourselves in stages.

First, we did blind contour drawing - which was truly fun! You look at the mirror, imagine that your hand is an extension of your eye, and trace your face as if you were a tiny ant crawling around. No peeping at the paper, no lifting the pen. It was hilarious to look around and see everyone gazing intensly into the mirror with complete silence and somber expressions.
The first blind drawing I did was not only very blind, but also transparent. After 5 minutes of deep concentration and devoted drawing, I decided that I was done, and looked at the result - just to discover that I was using a dried-out ink pen... How typical, Eh?

So, I quickly did 3 additional ones in the remaining 5 minutes.


Still pissed . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and somewhat Picassoish, I'd say.

Then we moved on to what's called a modified contour drawing, where you get the gracious permission to look at the drawing from time to time and even lift the pen now and then, to make necessary adjustments.

That was somehow less fun, as you no longer have an excuse for the creepy results that are produced...

I did like the last of the modified drawings, though.

It was a more interesting pose (well, as interesting as you can get when you have to stare at yourself in the mirror and use one hand for drawing) and I did get some likeness.

Plus, for a change, I wasn't looking so cranky. I guess I was starting to truly enjoy the class.

WackiM recommended that I take that one further, towards a painting.
And, I actually came up with two paintings.

This first one took a long time, with lots of going back with color and glazes and endless changes in the background.

"Self-Portrait #1", Watercolor on W/N CP Paper, 8"x8"

While the second was a very loose 'n quick line work, purely fun.

"Self-Portrait #2", Watercolor on W/N CP Paper, 9"x9"

Y'know, I actually like them both.

The JohnnyB claimed the first one generally looks like me. "More than kinda", was his exact eloquently technical term.
The second one is lovely, he agreed, but then added with his typical excruciating honesty: "but you look sooooooooooooooo much younger in it than you really are".
Indeed, daily ego boost and constant support and assurance, that's what I married him for (in case you were wondering).

And I've got to admit: it was a great experience. Most of us bought the mirrors so we can use them for this purpose at home (luckily, not all of them were pink. . . ), and I do believe I'll do more of that self-examining.

RabkieM dared me to put one of these on my blog.

"And I don't just mean post it", she clarified. "I mean put it as your blog image, instead of the photo you have there".

OK, RabkieM - done.

Ah, I wish we'd made a bet :-)

ArtPact #13

(Originally published on March 21, 2007).

Finally surfacing to the blogosphere, after a super-intensive week of a workshop and then tending to some non-me matters, such as preparing a roster of our whole membership.

"Not a very complicated task", you say with disdain.

True, but - do it on Windows Vista, where everything looks different, all the icons are suddenly graphic and undecipherable, and you need to figure out how to perform the tiniest task from scratch, as Vista got so much into having everything look cool that they forgot about backward compatibility and other tiny petty details.

A N Y W A Y - last week's workshop was incredible.

And very unique.

Refreshingly, it wasn't one of them paint-like-me workshops, in which you learn to imitate the instructor, use his/her technique and little gimmicky tricks, and you get out either totally frustrated for failing to become him/her, or you end up losing your own voice as you try to follow his/her footsteps.

No.

That one was all about us finding our personal visual language and doing anything but becoming a copy-cut of the instructor. CoolieDZ was amazingly inspiring, very funny and we all fell for her, big time. We worked during the days, partied most of the nights (well, US-style partying, y'know... dinner and such), The JohnnyB and I got hold of her for one evening and had a lot of fun (not sure about The JohnnyB - the poor guy found himself with two artists...), and I pretty much lived on adrenaline and Starbucks sandwiches for the whole week.

Did quite a few paintings during the workshop, concentrating on one photo of Lilush, my niece. She pretested vehemently about her first 2 paintings, so I am now showing the two that I did towards the end of the workshop.

As I informed you more than once, I hate painting in workshops, so I decided to give it a try at home, and spent 3 hours working on this one, in the convenience of my own (hideously messy) studio.

From time to time, I manage to come up with a painting that I truly love, no matter what anyone says about it. This is one of those.

Why do I love it so much? 'cause it truly captures the essence of Lilush.

"April Moon", Watercolor on W/N CP Paper, 10"x7.5" (25x19cm)

And this one, after painting for so many days and trying to cope with composition and value and color, I decided to have some fun.

CoolieDZ kept saying that line is a decorative element, and I kept arguing with her. She is the ultimate shape painter, and them painters do not understand us line painters. Being an Aries, and an Israeli, and me, I insisted that line can be used in many ways - and decided to show her what you can do with line.

So there.

"Lilush #5", Watercolor on Arches HP Paper, 10"x7.5" (25x19cm)

ArtPact #12

(Originally published on March 13, 2007).

busy, Busy, BUSY week - but at least I am getting to paint!!!

I am taking a 5-day workshop with one of the greatest names in watermedia art in the US:

Donna Zagotta.

I've been hearing her name being praised ever since I started painting, with some people saying that hers is the best workshop they ever took (actually, hers and the amazing class that Paintermon is giving, Y'know, the one where you slave to make 20 full-sheet paintings of the very same subject in 10 weeks, and come back from the other side a new person and artist).

And now - I am taking her workshop, which is soooooooooo very cool, only I am tired to tears, as the 2 preceding weeks were so hectic.

So, I knew she is the empress of values and shapes, and is one of the best instructors to learn about composition and design.
What I didn't know is that she is also hysterically funny, and cool beyond description, so there's a huge added bonus.

The workshop is great fun, packed with information and new revelations - on the verge of epiphanies, and I decided to take the opportunity and use what I did for my lagging ArtPact.

I am working on a portrait of someone who kept asking me to paint her. My very beloved niece, Lilush, the mother of Nitzku (the cool baby of whom I did 2 paintings and am planning on many, many more).

I love this photo of hers, as it really shows her free spirit and pretty much captures her essence.

It's a challenge, as she is someone I know and love, it's very tempting to just go for the copy-exact approach and make sure the painting looks like her. But, i am starting to detach from this oh-she-is-too-precious feeling, and to abstractive her.

I'm gonna work from that photo all week long, so one of these paintings is bound to be good, Eh?

Donna makes us do a lot of study before we get to start painting, mostly value studies (value in the sense of dark against light), and personalizing our shapes and elements of design in general.


Most artists hate doing that, but once you get used to it, it's quite fun, and incredibly helpful in pulling the painting together.

I chose this value study to work from.

And, based on it, did these two paintings in class today.
They are both smaller and quicker than I usually work - some might call them bozzettos, some might refer to them as crappy little design studies. But you really don't want to do that.

The JohnnyB was appalled by the long nose I gave Lilush.

(no, she does not have such a long nose in reality. It's my screwed-up drawing skills, and the fact it was all done in a crowded class and very quickly!!!).

"Lilush #1", Watercolor on W/N CP Paper, 10"x7.5" (25x19 cm)

"Lilush #2", Watercolor on W/N CP Paper, 10"x7.5" (25x19 cm)

More to come.

ArtPact #10

(Originally published on February 17, 2007).

Ah, it's good to be home.

It's even better when there's a routine to get back to.
And to me, that is mostly what makes it home: the fact that I have people and things to come back to. After almost 5 years here, I think it does start to feel like home.

And part of this routine is the monthly advanced portrait workshop.

Today's lesson was about facial expressions. Our instructor, WackieM, provided us with photos she took of a very animated speaker, who spoke at our holiday party. Looking at the photos, you can see him covering most of the expression spectrum: from happy to amused to indifferent to disgusted to angry to sad to, well, constipated...
And you'd wonder: what was he talking about, that made him so emotionally involved? why is he so mad and agitated and all those other extreme moods that he clearly shows?
He spoke of what makes art. great,. as opposed to a pretty picture. Obviously, he was feeling quite strongly about this subject...

WackieM had us start with small drawings, telling us to look for the subtleties that make each expression what it is. It was harder than I thought - and once you get into it, it's amazing how every muscle in the face plays a role. Eyebrows, mouth, nostrils, cheeks - you name it. I think the ears are mostly out of the game.

I took a shot at the expressions that spoke to me the most, and discovered - yet again - how much easier drawing is, compared to painting! I even told WackieM that perhaps I should stick to drawing and stop painting whatsoever, and got a huge reprimand from her...

So, these are my attempts at capturing this guy.
He really does have a wonderful expressive face, looking quite a bit like the rubber-faced Jim Carrey, only with a great shiny bald head.

These drawings are 2.5 x 3.5 inch (as in 6 x 9 cm) each, pencil on paper.
(Hmm, I should learn to stay: "graphite on 80Lb paper". Sounds much more artistic, Eh?).


Then we moved on to the watercolor zone.

Remember those little experimental paintings we did a month ago?

Well, they actually have a name, and quite a pretentious one: we were all thrilled to learn that they are called bozzettos.
(Yep, brilliant blogging AND art education!... can you ask for more?).

As we have lengthily discussed before, I hate painting in class.
Plus, I am still jetlagged.

And so, I only did one:

Watercolor on W/N CP Paper, 5"x7" (12.5x17.5 cm)

Now, at the beginning of the class, everyone showed what they did as homework during the month that's passed since last class. most of them completed all 18 rectangles with bozzettos, some even did one or two (or five!!) actual paintings..
And they all look so cool.
Even if some individual bozzettos were unsuccessful, seeing a whole sheet with 18 paintings made a big impact, so you no longer looked at them as individuals.
Very, very cool.
And there I was, homework-less (hey, we were away for 2 weeks, and jetlagged until tomorrow!), and very envious of everyone in class.

This time, I hope to actually manage to fill all 18 rectangles with different expressions.
Should be an incredibly fun exercise.

- - - and so, excuse me while I go and bozzettize.
One is pretty much done.
17 more to go...

ArtPact #9

(Originally published on January 21, 2007).

Started an advanced workshop in watercolor portraits on Saturday.

Same incredible and fun teacher, WackieM (check out her work), with whom I took the beginning portrait workshop in the fall.
Same one-hour trip each direction to where the workshop is.
Same annoyance of getting up before 7am (on a Saturday!!!) and frantically packing tons of supplies into the car, in order to be there on time.

But - as opposed to the weekly workshop in the fall, this one is only once a month.
And, besides, it is sooooooooooooooooo worth it, big time!

Yesterday's lesson was about painting people of colored skin.

Political correctness aside for a second, it was about black people, or very dark skinned.
(Sorry, but African-Americans sounds stupid, as what about those who were born here and never ever set foot in Africa? It would be like calling Jews who forever lived in the US "Israeli-Americans". Eh?)

A-n-y-w-a-y, back to art:
Dark skin obviously means darker values, but it's much more than that. It allows you to use more rich colors, and there are somewhat different "rules" when it comes to which colors work better. Like, the color reflected off of dark skin has a lot of green, whereas with white skin, it's mostly blue.

As a pre-workshop homework, WackieM had us divide a full-sheet of watercolor paper (namely, 22"x30") to 18 rectangles of 5"x7" (to the metric-speakers amongst my readers: I truly apologize. I fully understand your resentment, but - when it comes to art, I speak in the weird incomprehensible language of inches, feet and yards. A matter of survival, y'see).

As the workshop began, she explained that she wants us to work small, very small.
"Take your reference photos", she gracefully ordered us, "and start creating small paintings. Make a drawing on each rectangle, and then start painting. And work on several paintings at the same time".

Why??

Several reasons, all making great sense.
Now, great sense and art do not quite go hand in hand, but here we're talking the ultimate self-deception.

For one, working small takes away the fear of facing a big sheet of virginal empty paper, having it gaze back at you, and being terrified to put down the first brush stroke (which is always the hardest one).
Another big plus is that when working small, the drawing is more intuitive and loose and free and flowing and careless, as it feels more like a sketch than the obliging "preparation for a painting".
You find yourself caring less and less about what happens, as any potential mistake or failure will be done on a small scale, and you get into the blessed mindset of "Ah well, the hell with it, if it doesn't work out, then Pfffffffffffrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr - I have so many more rectangles to try something else".

And, since you get to do several paintings of the same portrait, you are bound to try a lot of things: come up with a different composition, change the emphasis, use another style, try bolder color schemes, explore different techniques, try a new approaches, basically, you work in the "what if" mode - and as you get more and more into it, you get more creative.
After all, these are just little pieces of paper, and it's so fun to go wild and see what happens.

So, it was a great day, time flew like the Concord, leaving us extremely adrenalized, and totally exhausted.
And we only did one row, mind you...
(like, about 6 rectangles, in varying stages of completion).

Having said all that, I feel obliged to announce that I really, REALLY hate painting in a class or a workshop.
When I paint, the world needs to come to a halt, or at least stay away.
I hardly ever paint when The JohnnyB is at home, but when I do, he knows it means a lot of quality and quiet time for him, and he becomes a very happy man.
And what other desire does a woman have more than making her husband happy?...

Painting in class means not having enough space, not having the materials you are used to, the easel you like, the solitude you need in order to create, the time to step back and examine your work, and add to it the irritating fact that it's basically a paint-on-demand situation, as you have to paint now - whether you feel like it or not.

But, as WackieM herself says, "The idea in a workshop is not to paint as you would at home, but to learn and try new things. You never get good results in a workshop. ".

As always, she is right.

This is a close-up of the four of the portraits I did. I only chose the ones that got beyond the drawing or the very first wash. I kinda like the one on the left and the second from the right.
The JohnnyB is very afraid of the alien (not me, the legal alien, but the green dude below), and he really hates the one on the right.

WackieM brought her own 2 sheets with several small portraits at different stages.
Just like ours, allegedly.
Yeah, right...
Needless to say, most of hers look like incredible works of art. Some of them are truly breathtaking, and it's a shame I cannot show them here. Y'know, rights and all.

So, we all sighed in envy, as you always do in workshops given by someone whose work you truly admire (did I mention you should check out her art? like this one, and this one, and many more on her website).
Then we continued to labor on our own little disasters...

And yet, this lesson opens such a huge field for exploration!!!

We actually have homework for next month's class: try and complete all 18 rectangles, using one or more reference photos, and then choose our favorite and create one (or more) "real" painting, based on what we have learned from all these little ones.

Should be interesting...