Ruby
Acrylic on Masonite. 12" x 12".
(sold)
This is Ruby, an older lab with a lot of character and personality. When I started this painting of Ruby, she was in a decline from age related health conditions, and sadly she was gone before I finished her picture. She was loved and will be missed. I hope I did her justice.
She was blind in one eye, which had a different color and reflection. I wanted to include this without it being a major distraction.
I had a very difficult time with the grass and its blooms- everything I tried looked too stiff, too artificial, too stylized, and too contrived. I must have scrubbed off and and wiped out the background at least ten times, starting over by building layers on a new base of Gesso. One thing I am noticing is that when I apply the loose initial layers and textures, it all looks promising. As soon as I start fussing by adding calculated detail, I kill the spontaneity.
The initial mistake was that I was perceiving the grass blooms in the reference photo as being white. I finally went out and collected some grass plumes, and when placed against a white background, they showed as a multitude of subtle neutral colors.
I also had better results when I stopped using controlled brush strokes and tried pressing and dabbing the paint on with small variations in the direction.
Using old brushes that were a little stiff with broken and splayed bristles, held at different angles and dabbing gave the good results. I had been reluctant to toss out my collection of old worn out brushes, and now I'm glad I kept them.
Randomly looking at how other people handled grass has revealed that everyone else has the same problem- it is very difficult to pull off.
I like Andrew Wyeth's technique of dry brushed tempera layers to delineate grass with textures emulating the look of drypoint or etching on a copper plate.
I am increasingly aware of the lack of linear and textural elements in my work. That would be a good direction to explore.
She was blind in one eye, which had a different color and reflection. I wanted to include this without it being a major distraction.
I had a very difficult time with the grass and its blooms- everything I tried looked too stiff, too artificial, too stylized, and too contrived. I must have scrubbed off and and wiped out the background at least ten times, starting over by building layers on a new base of Gesso. One thing I am noticing is that when I apply the loose initial layers and textures, it all looks promising. As soon as I start fussing by adding calculated detail, I kill the spontaneity.
The initial mistake was that I was perceiving the grass blooms in the reference photo as being white. I finally went out and collected some grass plumes, and when placed against a white background, they showed as a multitude of subtle neutral colors.
I also had better results when I stopped using controlled brush strokes and tried pressing and dabbing the paint on with small variations in the direction.
Using old brushes that were a little stiff with broken and splayed bristles, held at different angles and dabbing gave the good results. I had been reluctant to toss out my collection of old worn out brushes, and now I'm glad I kept them.
Randomly looking at how other people handled grass has revealed that everyone else has the same problem- it is very difficult to pull off.
I like Andrew Wyeth's technique of dry brushed tempera layers to delineate grass with textures emulating the look of drypoint or etching on a copper plate.
I am increasingly aware of the lack of linear and textural elements in my work. That would be a good direction to explore.
Hello, I was wondering if you had an art teacher named Raymond K. Hudson. I just went to an estate sale of his and found a print from 1975 or 1978 I think by an Ann Hagler. It's titled "Toogata in a Minor" again I think that's what it reads. I that one of yours??
ReplyDeleteBryan
Hi Bryan, I don't recall having an art teacher with this name.
ReplyDeleteI think the print you mentioned is very likely one of mine. Back in the 1970's I was living near the Canadian border studying old printing methods, working primarily with stone lithography and producing very limited editions of black and white prints. I doubt many of these still exist.
After some searching, I located a slide of a print I had done dated 1978 titled "Toccata in A Minor", a still life including an old pair of jeans and an old nitric acid bottle. (I still have that old glass bottle!)
It is pretty cool that you stumbled across it after all these years. Maybe the gentleman you mentioned had purchased it some 35 years ago.
I wonder where it will end up next?