Vines around the back

Morning glory emerging from the shaman's mouth

I like to make little games for myself when I’m working on repetitive forms like these morning glory leaves – today I decided to stop working on the right hand side of the painting so that I could set myself the goal of joining up the leaves coming form the shaman’s mouth with those close to her hand, so I began defining the shapes of the shadows of the plant as it passes over her shoulder, then turns back on itself to climb up the Emperor’s chair. Now I’ve started to create substance in the vines emerging from her mouth I’m aware of a compositional problem that I hadn’t noticed before; the vines spilling out of her mouth over her right cheek (our left) aren’t as abundant as those on her left, so I will probably add some leaves that will cover a bit of the hair below and next to her ear.

While working on the leaves I redid the hair and the shaman’s horns, which had become too patchy after working on the sky a couple of weeks ago, I added a little darkness to the features of her face too, so she looks a little fresher and stronger. I’m enjoying the way this is going.

Here’s a really good green man from Norwich Cathedral.

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The Poetry of God

There’s a hypnotic quality to painting the morning glory that is quite pleasant – time passes differently when the focus is so closely confined to a small area of canvas. Hours can pass by without mark, quietly slipping into the past, while leaves and flowers accumulate on the canvas, slowly building a mass of gradually crafted work that, when the painting is exhibited, will be glimpsed by visitors to the gallery in a momentary flash of vision, then perhaps studied by some with greater attention. I wonder if the amount of work will be understood, or if the work will simply stand on its own as a beautiful material artifact.

I’m perfectly content in the studio. It’s a haven. It’s a workplace and a cloister. The closest thing to it that I know is the garden, where the work of tilling the earth helps produce the beauty of life.

Plotinus said that “the world is the poetry of God” and I think that painting is very much inspired by paying attention to nature, whether that’s as simple as making pictures of people, or capturing short-lived morning glories. But I think art (obviously I’m particularly interested in the workings of paintings) improves upon nature by making possible things that have never actually been, creating worlds that we have never seen, and arranging the imagined landscape and the events captured in it for its audience, re-affirming their understanding of life or guiding them toward a new appreciation of it.

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Leaf Alone

Now the basic white layer of the leaves is done it’s time to render the leaves and flowers in my customary brown. This is satisfying work that’s going to be a big feature of the finished painting – imagine that mass of vines and beautiful morning glory flowers when it’s completely done. For me it’s as much about imagining the end result as it is painting – actually it’s going to be a test of endurance putting down all the foliage, being fairly slow work, but I can see how it’s going to be at the end.

I’m excited about a big show in September ’12 that I can now confirm – I’ll be exhibiting my biggest paintings at the Carnegie Museum over in Oxnard, Ventura. It seems like a long time until then, but I’m sure it will go too fast. I’ll go and visit the space and figure out how the various spaces can be divided up into alchemical themes and what’s going to fit where.

Very much on my mind these days: the Fisher King, the guardian of the Grail, who:

“was wounded in a battle and completely crippled, so that he’s helpless now, for he was struck by a javelin through both his thighs; and he still suffers from it so much that he can’t mount a horse. But when he wants to engage in some pleasure and sport he has himself placed in a boat and goes fishing with a hook” (Chretien De Troyes, Perceval 38)

Here’s a good summary of the Fisher King’s appearances in Arthurian literature by Matthew Annis. Perceval meets him in his castle at dinner and sees servants bring candles, the lance of Longinus, the Grail and a silver plate in a procession, returning with the grail at each course of the feast. Afterwards the grail is taken to the Fisher King’s father who lives in an adjoining room and has been nourished for twelve years by the divine host that is borne on it. Perceval fails to understand that he was supposed to ask the Fisher King about the nature of the spear and who the grail serves, which would have healed the King’s injuries.

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Just Vine

At last the vines extend from their source to their goal.

After worrying about getting the hand right I realized that this was an unnecessary pre-occupation because just like her right hand, her left directs the vines toward the Emperor, disguising much of it behind the foliage. I spent a fruitful day in the studio working on basing the leaves and flowers in Foundation White, preparing for rendering the detail in browns. I’m enjoying the flow of the vines as they not only twist around the legs of the chair, but also twist around themselves to create an almost vortex-like feeling. I’ll take some time away from the painting this evening to see it with a fresh eye tomorrow and add more body to what I already have here in order to emphasize this movement. I let a few tendrils run loose to climb toward the Emperor’s stick, adding a little more sensation of growth and directed movement, but we won’t see this particularly clearly for a while – there’s still a lot of work to be done before I can finish up with details.

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Legs

It’s worrying, changing a hand in a painting, but the shaman really needed a new left hand (her left, our right) so I asked my student Ashley to model for me and shot new reference pictures for it, then re-rendered the base coat in white, then re-worked the new version, and will soon re-do the definition with the Raw Umber to give it some value. It’s a big improvement on that sideways view which stacked all fingers together, making the hand look like a flipper.

I’ve worked on the legs with Raw Umber, creating shifts in value that make them substantial. I need to move on to the flesh tones before I can add the grasses that will come in front of the bottom half of her body because I need continuity in the gestures of the paint behind the leaves. The grass has to go over the top of the flesh or she’ll appear to be floating over the grass rather than in it.

The original Emperor card of the Noblet deck.

This morning was made more exciting by the arrival of a package from France. Like a kid at Christmas I opened it up with great delight because I knew that inside there was a lovely packet of Jean Noblet tarot cards restored by M. Jean-Claude Flornoy, may his printing press be ever fruitful. This isn’t any old deck, it’s a very well produced facsimile restoration of the oldest known Marseilles Tarot, cleaned up and printed in its original colours. Fantastic!

The Emperor in the Noblet deck shows the usual characteristics of the card, but faces in the opposite direction to the later popular Grimaud deck. The globus cruciger signifies earthly dominion, the eagle is the emblem of the Holy Roman Emperor.

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Base Grass and Oak

I think I probably write the words “Raw Umber” more than any others on this blog, perhaps in close competition with “Foundation White” because I use so much of this lovely, versatile brown and rich, solid white in my work these days. Thank you so much to M. Graham for the Raw Umber and to Michael Harding for the White.

Today I’m working on the landscape, building trees on the horizon line with rags and a quarter of an inch egbert (a slightly long filbert). I don’t recall painting grass before, except that little bit in the foreground of the Traveler, and I spent a little time thinking about how best to lay down the deep layers of long grass and making it recede toward the background. I’m heading more towards an un-mown meadow than the grazed grass I was thinking of earlier, partly because I want to emphasize fertility and partly because I want to enjoy the challenge of painting a convincing swath of long grass with all the complexities of stems and leaves growing over each other.

 

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From Plato to Ficino to us.

“So, if the intermediate world of the stars and planets corresponds to the imaginative faculty of the soul, it is then, through the imagination that we can resonate sympathetically with the heavens; the imagination which will lead to a deeper, more unified kind of knowledge. We must distinguish here from our common use of the word “imagination”, which tends to mean a free-ranging, personal fantasy, and a term understood by Ficino as a means of unifying sense-impressions into images, which are then translated by the mind into thoughts. The mind needs the images in order to grasp the universal concepts to which they point – but then can leave them behind as it moves into the pure contemplation of intellectual activity. Imagination then, plays an essential part in the ascent towards the spiritual union of the intellect, which in the Platonic sense is the place where the soul realises its identity with the divine ideas and indeed finds immortality.”

From Angela Ross’ introduction to her collection of the writings of the renaissance scholar and thinker Marsilio Ficino

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Pouncing the sky

After the Cobalt Blue was thoroughly dry and I got over a nasty but mercifully short little flu virus that beat me up this weekend, I was able to pounce the sky with a coat of Foundation white, dropping the excessive brightness of the blue back, softening the edges of the figures and the vines and producing the first layer of colour in the otherwise monochromatic canvas. I imagine this sky getting layers of delicate pinks and yellows to give it more flavour, but this will have to wait for a few days until the white is truly stable.

Doing the sky is a lot of work, taking a great deal of time and lots of shoulder work because of all the pouncing that must be done to get a nice smooth surface that doesn’t show too many marks.

 

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Horizon

The beginning of the landscape, Raw Umber brushed and ragged.

The landscape takes shape behind the shaman. The beginning of a tree trunk cuts through the horizon, soon to be developed into an old oak.

Once the blue was wiped away from the morning glory and the figures, cleaning up any overlapping colour, it was time to start work on the horizon line. I want the landscape to be a little wild and unkempt, to be reminiscent of a location somewhere on the edge of Dartmoor in South West England, or among some of those mysterious Sierra foothills in California where the oaks dot the open rolling landscape, grazed by herds of wild ponies, far-ranging cattle or sheep.

The paintings are increasingly part of a series of windows into a strange alternative world in which the people are involved in alchemical processes that alter the environment and their lives. The landscapes are becoming increasingly green and verdant, almost as if the world in the paintings is taking on a life of its own as it gets more frequently captured. I’m enjoying finding out what’s going on in there.

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Building Blue Sky

Blue paint going over the previous work, to be wiped away later.

 

Using the pouncing ball to smooth the paint.

 

Once the rag is saturated it stops lifting paint and simply softens textures.

I’ve been busy painting a first layer of the sky, first using a brush to paint a layer of the colour over the entire sky, then using an old but clean t-shirt as a pouncing rag, all bunched up into a ball, but without creases in the surface so that as I pounce the paint it leaves a smoothed surface that doesn’t show a texture.

Although I’ve applied the paint over the edges of the work I’ve already done, I know that most of it will be easily wiped away with a separate rag once the pouncing is complete. It’s seriously bright now, so I’ll wait for it to dry thoroughly and add a layer of white over it to soften it. I like it when the background colour overlaps the figures a little bit because it enhances the curve of edges away from the viewer. Hard edges come forward in a painting, soft edges recede.

Although it felt early to be getting colour onto the canvas I didn’t feel comfortable about getting to work on the trees until I had the basic layer of the sky done so that the branches and leaves can be silhouetted against something of substance rather than the grey that’s under this layer of blue.

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