Expressionism

During some recent research on expressionism I came across some more obscure works and artists that I, at any rate, had never heard of. The Finnish artist Alvar Cawen (1886-1935) has utterly enchanted me. Lately I've been focusing on portraiture more than in the past and Cawen's "blind" portraits amaze me. The blind adult subjects, sitting with sighted children, evoke quite a range of emotions depending on who on the canvas you are looking at. These works are incredibly moving, intense pieces. How did I not know who this artist was before now? So much time wasted, so much more to learn about him. These, and his other works, are simply fabulous.

Pime (Blind), 1926

Sokea Soittoniekka (Blind Musician), 1922

Journal Collage

I've been keeping a journal in a teeny tiny pink moleskin book. Some pages contain writing over hastily-done watercolor paintings detailing whatever it was I did that day, and some have quickly executed little collages. If it takes me more than 10 minutes, it doesn't go in. I thought this might be a neat little experiment that falls somewhere between a proper diary style journal and a full-fledged art journal whose pages can take hours or even days to complete.

This little collage was done on a day when I was especially dizzy from a lingering vertigo-type virus I've been suffering from. It wasn't at all difficult to get a slightly blurry photo of myself as I couldn't have stopped gently swaying before the camera if I tried.

The Dizziest Winter on Record, mixed media collage (acrylic paint, crayon, magazine clippings, photograph, pitt pen, printed tape),

5 3/8 x 3 3/8, 2011

Warm and Fuzzy

You know you're a real nerdy artist-type when just looking at photos of someone else's used tubes of paint makes you feel all warm and happy inside. Getting a sweet rush of excitement without even being in a studio (anyone's studio), smelling the tools of the trade (any tools: paints, palettes, canvas, stinky pens, you name it), or even looking at art (anyone's art) means you're too far gone for help of any kind so just accept it and enjoy the uber-joy you feel. Lose yourself in the moment.

Photos courtesy of Ken Bushe at kenbushe.co.uk.

Apricot Trees

I have just finished a group of apricot trees in bloom in a little orchard of fresh green. I've had a setback with the sunset with figures and a bridge that I spoke of to Bernard. The bad weather prevented my working on the spot, and I've completely ruined it by trying to finish it at home. However, I at once began the same subject again on another canvas, but, as the weather was quite different, in gray tones and without figures.

Vincent to Theo in a letter from Arles, March 1888

Orchard With Blossoming Apricot Trees, 1888

Great Games, Great Art

These works belong to my new favorite contemporary artist, Tim Liddy. I not only love the fact that he realistically recreates the covers of some of the best board games ever made and looking at them sends me into paroxysms of sicky sweet nostalgia bordering on an overdose, but the fact that he paints the game boxes exactly as he finds them: with the tears and bends, yellowed tape, broken flaps and endless yucky stains left behind by some careless owner or their crummy kids, or both, to me is equally fabulous.

"Circa 1965 (Life)" 2005, oil, enamel, urethane on copper

"Circa 1959 (Risk)" 2007, oil, enamel on copper

"Circa 1970 (Ouija)" 2008, enamel, oil on copper

Griffin

I thought it might be a nice throwback to the 19th c cafes of Paris, full of artists furiously drawing in their sketchbooks, to take a model with me to the local Starbucks and draw him from life while enjoying some coffee and conversation. And so we went one sunny afternoon, he with his good looks and me with an oversized sketchbook; a gift he had given me for my most recent birthday. I paid him for his sitting with vast amounts of delicious coffee and sugary treats, which was all he asked for. What I didn't take into consideration was that my model is nervously hyper without the addition of caffeine and/or sugar to his system and it took only a very short time before he could no longer focus on what he was looking at, let alone sit still for more than a nanosecond. In the end, frustrated with my jacked up, itchy model, I took some photos of him sitting there across from me and we left so he could burn off his nervous energy. The rather convoluted evolution of this portrait is: begun, from life, in a bustling coffee shop and finished, from photos, very quietly on my own time.

Portrait of Griffin Marks, graphite on paper, 2010

Dancer Sketch

Another quick sketch from a Degas original. I really love the energy in all the sketches, pastels and paintings of his dancers. I don't think there is a single piece -in the countless works on this subject matter- that I don't find lovely and moving.

Quick Study of Edgar Degas' A Ballet Dancer in Position, 1872

Dancer Sketch

I've been spending some time doing quick studies of various works I admire. I'm rather fond of Degas' sketches of ballet dancers in rehearsal and so have been drawing sketches from the originals.

Quick Study of Edgar Degas' Dancer at the Bar, 1880

Lenny

Portrait of a show horse completed for a client in time for the holidays.

Lenny, graphite on paper, 2010

Dog Portraits

Three portraits of German Shepherds done for a client for Christmas.

Ginger, graphite on paper, 2010

Beau, graphite on paper, 2010

Jack, graphite on paper, 2010