Apples

This was done in a somewhat small sketch book I carry with me when I'm out and about. I've been setting up still lifes, photographing them and then drawing from the various sized shots. While it's nice to be able to draw whenever and wherever I feel like it, I'd really very much prefer to work from life since I obviously have to work from photos for my dog sketches and it can get rather humdrum, to say the least. But as I am still studio-less and it really isn't fair to expect my family to stay the hell away from my arrangements for days on end, nor is there any way to keep my obnoxious cat away from my work, photos are for now the way to go. Better to draw the only way I can than to not draw at all.

Three Apples on a Napkin I, graphite on paper, 2009

Journal Page

A photo journal page of images from my childhood. From late 2008, early 2009.

Ravine

Ravine, October 1889.

X-ray of Ravine showing the first painting beneath.

Wild Vegetation, the pen and ink drawing that corresponds to the painting beneath Ravine.

The Museum of Fine Arts here in Boston (which owns this lovely Vincent piece), in conjunction with the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, discovered upon x-raying the MFA's Van Gogh holdings at the request of a group of scholars studying the technical aspects of Vincent's works, that there is, in fact, another of Vincent's paintings lying beneath the surface of Ravine.

It is believed that the first painting underneath was painted in June of 1889 during the early part of Vincent's stay at the Saint-Paul de Mausole Asylum near Saint-Rémy, and he then reused the support for "Ravine" when he was without any fresh canvases a few months later in October of 1889. The x-ray showed that the first painting matches up perfectly with a small drawing titled "Wild Vegetation" that Vincent sent in a letter to Theo in July 1889. In fact, the Van Gogh Museum has a dozen drawings that Vincent sent to Theo in July of that year to show his brother what he had been painting that summer. Up until this discovery, there had never been a known painting that corresponded to that drawing and it was the only one of that group of drawings from that summer without a painting of it, which had always puzzled the Van Gogh scholars. But now this lost painting has been rediscovered.

How exciting that almost 120 years after Vincent's tragic death, new and exciting discoveries can be made about his work and his life. To me it's absolutely thrilling!

Photos courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

Bram

I know I said I was going to work bigger for the next study, so let's pretend that this little sketch of Bram at 6x7 inches was just a quickie warm up to something bigger, to flex my fingers if you will, for the next big thing. It took me only about nine hours over four nights or so. I find if I try to work too big it can be self-defeating, as I haven't the time to finish those larger pieces as quickly as I'd like. But what I really need to do, aside from actually creating some really big drawings, is to stop saying things here that turn out to be just not true!

Study of Bram Reclining, graphite on paper, 2009

All Roads (and Visits) Lead to Vincent

Yesterday David and I finally made it to the Greene and Greene show at the MFA and while in terms of the objects on display it was a fairly enjoyable exhibit, overall it was something of a letdown. The original drawings for their homes, their amazingly delicate stained glass and the furnishings were beautiful works of art in themselves (after all who doesn't love arts & crafts period furnishings?), but the show was really small and sparse. We were in and out of it in less than half an hour, and that was with me lingering over wall texts too.

So instead, I spent the bulk of our time mooning over the Van Goghs. Whenever I go to the MFA I always visit my beloved Vincent and his heart-wrenching works in which I could lose myself for hours. The MFA has only a few pieces and they aren't even remotely my favorites, but beggars can't be choosers and if these are the only Vincents that I'll have in my life, then I'll take them, and happily too. I hate the fact that right next to the version of La Berceuse that he was working on in Arles the night he had chopped off his ear is a Gauguin. I am firmly of the belief that Gauguin played a major role in Vincent's breakdown. I know that Vincent was on a lifelong collision course with madness and I'm not so naive as to believe that Gauguin was the sole reason for his psychotic break at that time, but I truly feel that Gauguin's own behavior didn't help the situation any and as such I think he's partly responsible (and I think he did too, based on his own memoirs later in life). But that's not why I hate Gauguin's work. I hate it because I think it's just plain horrible, nothing more and nothing less.

So the day was redeemed by my extended visit to the Vincents. His colors, his subject matter, his sensitivity, his heart and soul poured into every vibrant stroke make me more joyful than anything. There is no one who will ever be like Vincent and I could spend my life, until my dying breath, sitting before his works. Someday I'd like to visit the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, but the danger with that is that once I'm inside I'll never want to leave, ever again.