A walk down the path of abstraction

Despite the self-imposed label of "representational artist" that I assign myself, I secretly (well, okay...maybe not so secretly) want to be an abstract painter as well.   The problem for me is that, while I have no difficulty finding abstractions in nature (clouds, rocks, reflections, patterns, etc.) and as subjects for my camera lens, my mind simply does not work in the way that I can just spontaneously create an abstract painting out of the mental aether, as it were.

So, I rely on photos to some degree as the starting point when I set out to paint something that I hope will be a little more on the abstract side of the fence.  What I love about abstract art is that it encompasses a wide range of painting styles:  that is, an abstract painting can be anything from tightly rendered and hugely detailed to a few blocks of color...and everything in between.  It really depends upon the context of the subject and what the artist intends for the viewer.

Eastward
6x6 inches - pastel on Artagain
© S.Johnson

A great thing about experimenting with abstracts in my studio is that there really are no rules.  Anything goes.  It's a great way to use many of the beautiful color-saturated pastels that normally see little time on the paper, and for me, I think my use of color is sometimes one of my weakest points as an artist.  And in some cases, the less it looks like whatever it was based on in the reference, the better.

In September
6x6 inches - pastel on Artagain
© S.Johnson

Color.  Value.  Design/Composition.  Edges.   Just like a representational painting, an abstract painting needs these elements in order to be successful in my opinion.  Of course, "successful" is a somewhat nebulous term in itself, and is open to interpretation.  For some, that might be a sale; for others, it might be accolades from fellow artists.  For me, it's generally:  "Did I accomplish what I wanted to with this painting, and am I satisfied with it?"

High Country
4x6 inches - pastel on Artagain
© S.Johnson

These are a fun break from the pieces I usually do; I spend far more time considering the four elements I listed above than doing the actual painting, which in these three paintings, were supposed to be very loose.  The last one was done as a "memory painting" - another exercise I've found useful:  study the photo but do not refer to it while painting.

If you find yourself getting into an artistic rut, feeling burned out from your current painting style or subject, I'd recommend taking a walk down this path, if even for a brief time.  For those used to doing realism, it probably won't be easy at first.  But, I can almost guarantee it will be fun, you might find something useful for your primary style of work, and who knows:  you might end up adding abstracts to your repertoire!

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We are heading up to Moab early tomorrow for two solid days of slickrock and canyon hiking adventures in the small window before temperatures drop into the 40's.  Everyone have a great Thursday and Friday!

Adventures with misbehaving paint

Lime Solo

4x6 inches

oil on canvas paper

I've mentioned previously that I've been experiencing problems with my oils, in that no matter what techniques, brushes, mediums or surfaces I use, I continue to have issues with them as far as acting like tar and becoming sticky or gummy on my painting palette shortly after I start painting.  The smooth, buttery quality that allows them to be laid down with ease and blended (or not) - that never happens with me on a regular basis.  Interestingly, I never had these issues when I worked in thin layers and glazes - just alla prima painting.

Maybe it is the palette I use for my paints - it's well-seasoned now, and I clean it with walnut oil after scraping off the paint.  Is it somehow affecting the paint texture?  Let's try a piece of clear acrylic instead.

Due to the problems I had with the last two paintings I did, yesterday I decided to just do some quick studies on canvas paper, which I've definitely had problems with in the past.  But, I wanted to use a surface I would be fine tossing out.

The problems started right away.  The oils tacked up almost immediately after application, and additional paint just caused the brush to drag across the applied paint.  The painted area almost felt dry to the touch within minutes, and minimal paint  came off on my finger.  It was a tedious fight to do this small painting.  I'd add a few drops of walnut oil, or Turpenoid, or both and was lucky if I could get a couple of brushstrokes out of a pretty loaded brush before it just didn't work.  The brushes got stiff and useless.  

If I wanted paint to act like this, I'd use acrylics.   But, there's a reason I don't paint in acrylics, and it's because I really dislike the way they handle.

Seriously, I have no idea what the problem is, but it is driving me nuts.  The paints are not old - the new white I bought is doing the same thing.  

After trying to paint a head of garlic on the canvas paper after this lime, and having the process be an even bigger chore, I got fed up, and really annoyed.

Is it because I'm not using enough paint?  Possibly.   

Large squeezes of the new tubes of burnt sienna, ultramarine blue and the white, along with some Utrect chromium green barely used, went onto the palette.  I grabbed a large hog bristle filbert rather than the softer synthetic flats and washes I've been using:

"Frustration"

6x6

oil on 1/4" wood panel

I show this somewhat as a joke.  Not to mock abstract works at all, because I am a fan of them.  It was literally done out of frustration and irritation, and not with the intent to produce a painting, but to pile on paint with no medium and see what happened.  It was actually cathartic to paint and I rather like the colors together.  It's not signed, as I don't intend to keep it or sell it [although there are probably some who would say it's better than anything else I've done...not sure if I would laugh or cry over that assessment].

But, I thought it might be fun to share it here, as a toast to the moments and periods of frustration that I'm sure hit us all at some point in our studios.  One thing I did discover is that these colors are almost a perfect palette match for this fabulous little glazed vessel I bought from the DAC gallery shop a few weeks ago.  Maybe a successful painting will be hatched as a result of this one.

I'm going to make a trip to our local art store and pick up some refined linseed oil and give that a try.  It's all artist Karin Jurick uses, and her paint behaves wonderfully for her.  

Anyone else have any similarly frustrating experiences with materials or anything else?  Feel free to share.

Hovenweep #2 - Ancient Architecture series

Something totally different....

Hovenweep #2 - Standing Alone

9x12 

pastel on black Strathmore

Last night, while catching up on one of our favorite TV series via Netflix, I was noticing the wonderful abstract paintings in the office of one of the main characters (the POTUS, in fact).  Reds and blues and other bright primaries and secondaries.  So, that is the source of inspiration for the palette in this latest painting in the Ancient Architecture series.  I think there is some Wolf Khan influence in there as well.  

It almost went into the trash before it was even 1/2 way finished; I had grabbed an earthy brown to use for the area behind the ruin, and realized it didn't work with the reds.  I scrubbed it out, but it's still visible as an underpainting of sorts, but I did salvage it.  Since this obliterated the black surface of the paper, I decided "what the heck?", and proceeded to use my brush to scrub everything out.  It's always surprising how freeing things become when you figure it will head to the trash anyway:  nothing to lose!

I titled this painting such because one of the distinctive features of the Hovenweep ruins is that the buildings do all stand alone, and the reds used in the painting were meant to emphasize this.  They aren't in large "houses", like those seen at Chaco and Mesa Verde.  And the puebloan architects and masons frequently placed their homes (or whatever this was) directly on exposed slickrock; this particular building sits atop a sandstone ledge.  Beside it, a rubble pile is all that remains of the rest of the building, with a few scatted rocks shown to represent what used to belong to the dwelling.  

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Unrelated update:  the dumpster diving raccoon had managed to extricate himself from his metal prison, presumably with the help of additional trash thrown in there.  A good thing, as the trash was collected today.  A friend had suggested I contact Animal Control, and I don't know why I didn't think of that initially, but I won't hesitate to call if that situation arises again.  

Chaco #7

Insanity, I tell you!

Chaco #7

12x9 inches

pastel on black Strathmore

Is it too over-the-top?  Maybe, but that full-on-disco sky refuses to be ignored.  It grabs your attention.  

I wasn't sure it was going to work out, and I had to brush off 2 attempts at the broken wall face before I got something remotely acceptable that wasn't going directly in the trash.  The original colors I had chosen included yellow and red, but all that remain of them are on the beams; they looked atrocious when I tried to use them there [on the broken wall], although tiny dashes still remain in the flat wall...can you see them?).  So, I just kept with the blue/green theme of the rest of the dwelling.  Works much better.  It's sort of growing on me.  

The source of my palette inspiration for this piece?  Fellow blogger Diane Mannion's recent post on her DPW challenge entry:  looook at those brilliant primaries and secondaries in her painting!  I discovered Diane's work and blog through one of her earlier DPW challenge paintings; be sure to check out the rest of her wonderful oil paintings during your visit.

On another front, I have decided to start up a studio page on Facebook.  I had one last year, but when I permanently deleted my personal account, that went away as well.  When I found out I could have a business page without having to have a personal account as well, I decided to roll with it.  There doesn't seem to be much cross-over between us blogger folk and those who rely only on FB for their social networking, so it's a good way to reach additional viewers.  I hope, anyway.

The fact that it is free, can be viewed by non-FB people and has the capacity to have many albums as a static source of one's work clinched the deal.  I'll keep it as a streamlined, soundbite-oriented version of my blog.  So, for those that prefer the format of FB for updates, here's the link:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sonya-Johnsons-Studio/105326102883760

And, finally, on the subject of inspiration again, I thought I'd share this video with everyone.  A friend turned me on to Mr. Conte's music last year, and even though I don't know a word of Italian, it doesn't matter.  Can you not listen to this and want to start pushing some pastel or paint around on a canvas?

Chaco #6 - Ancient Architecture series

More Chacos...

Chaco #6 - Window with Beam

12x9

pastel on black Strathmore

I'd planned to start with the Hovenweep series, but we took another trip to Chaco Culture National Historical Park (official, formal name) this past Saturday, and I came back loaded with enough reference photos to keep me painting for weeks if I chose.

I guess I must really like this green, because even though I am trying not to repeat colors, I discovered after I had finished the painting that I had used it on #3.  But, it gives a different look with a deep earthy red and robin's egg blue sky.  

This particular image is based on photos taken at the Chacoan Great House Pueblo Del Arroyo (house by the gully or creek), so named as it is closest to the banks of the Chaco Wash that runs through the canyon.  

On this trip, we also took the ~8 mile round-trip hike to the most remote of the Great Houses in the park:  Penasco Blanco (white rocks).  The weather was in the low 70's with a breeze and ideal for hiking.  

Below are some photos taken from the hike, some converted to sepia or b/w.

Monolithic sandstone cliffs form the edges of Chaco canyon

A trio of petroglyphs high up on the cliff face is seen below a cluster of old mud nests (swallows, I'm guessing).

A large raptor coasts silently on the thermals above.  Possibly a red-tailed hawk, but much larger than most I've seen.  

Grown-over ruins at Penasco Blanco.  This is one of the few pueblos in Chaco that archaeologists have chosen not to excavate, and I'm glad.  The Chacoan people deserve to have at least some of their history left untrammeled and not picked over and reconstituted.

The "keyhole" door at Penasco Blanco.  Original wood beams are visible in the small adjacent windows.  Given that this was built around 1100 AD, that even this much remains is remarkable.  Piles of rock from collapsed walls are seen in front.

The same wall and door as seen from behind (north).

A look down and across the canyon coming back from Penasco Blanco; it is one of the only ruins found on the south side of the wash and overlooks the canyon itself.  Willow and salt cedar (aka tamarisk - an invasive species found around most southwest waterways) line the edges of this now-dry wash.  

One of the larger petroglyph panels in the afternoon sun.

Casa Chiquita on the hike back.

A balanced rock sits precariously atop a narrow base along the edge of the canyon.

Chaco #4: Doorways 02 - Ancient Architecture series

Chaco #4: Doorways 02

12x9 inches

pastel on black Strathmore

Another view from inside Pueblo Bonita looking through one of the rectangular doorways and across to another.  Interestingly, there are steps that lead to each doorway.  The row of wooden beam ends protruding from the wall above the door are all that remain of the support for the second story floor of this pueblo.  

For this pastel painting, I relied on scumbling of colors to achieve the lighter values within the second room, which has much more reflected light.   

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This evening's sky - a waxing crescent moon covered by a thin layer of pink clouds:

Chaco #3 - Ancient Architecture series

Chaco #3

12x9 inches

pastel on black Strathmore paper

Hmmm...this looks a bit better in person; I could not do any color adjustment to get the correct saturation of the turquoise-green on the right side without completely over-saturating the left-sided greens.  I loved the design of this, but may re-do it in a different color scheme later; it doesn't look as good as I'd hoped when I tested the colors out together...and so it goes.  

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Nelson celebrates Fat Tuesday in style* and wishes everyone a happy Mardi Gras!

*[subject was not harmed or otherwise subjected to inhumane working conditions during today's photo session.  And, there's nothing like a string of beads to top off one's fancy tuxedo attire.]

Ancient Architecture - new series

Chaco #1

12x9 inches

pastel on Strathmore Artagain (black)

Here we go again with a new series!  I think this will be an on-going one, just like the Miniseries Quartets, since there will no doubt be a steady source of new references from which to work from.

A few days ago, I was looking through my photos taken of the various Anasazi (or Ancestral Puebloans, if you prefer) ruins we've visited, and marveling in the wonderful abstracted shapes they form, along with the impressive degree of detail and masonry skill.  Some readers may remember my original post and photos from our visit to Chaco Canyon last fall.

I am always on an exploratory quest with my work, and color and palette harmony is one area that I always feel could be better in my pastels, especially since I find myself constantly falling back into the trap of representational colors [although that is not necessarily a bad thing].  I'm also trying to head in the direction of simplifying my work and losing unnecessary detail, particularly in my landscapes, and to expand my use of color beyond the local.  Recently, I was able to replace some of my beloved copies of the Pastel Journal that the USPS lost last year, and they arrived earlier this week.  In the June '08 issue, the simple landscapes of New Mexico artist Mary Silverwood are featured, including some of her very colorful and simple depictions of Chaco ruins.  I loved the concept immediately, especially since I had photos in that similar format.  As much as I enjoy her style, I don't want to copy it - just borrow an idea.

Wolf Khan's use of color and line in his minimalist landscapes of barns has appealed to me for years, and I often pull out my copy of Wolf Khan Pastels when I want to refresh my vision.  Recently, Casey Klahn  posted a series of links to video interviews with Mr. Khan regarding some of his older work, and I'm working through those.  I've admired Casey's use of color and ability to distill down his landscapes ever since I discovered his blog, and then there is the series by blogger friend Jala Pfaff has been doing with her abstract Strata series where she has been exploring color.  So, between all of these sources of inspiration, I hopefully now have something that is somewhat unique.

My goal with this series is really to focus on the simple shapes and design of the ruins in combination with experimentation of various color palettes.  And, of course, to pay homage to the original inhabitants and masons that were responsible for creating these enigmatic dwellings and cities of stone, mud and wood.

Dreamscape #2 - pastel

A second in an indeterminate series of cloudscapes.  The goal with this one:  looser and more abstracted.  I also wanted to show a variety in the direction and shape of the colors and strokes used here.  Some areas are blended to give a sense of soft atmosphere, while others remain as scumbled layers.  I also avoided using any of the same colors I used in the last cloudscape - it's all too easy to get into a rut with colors.  So, these are Unisons and some Senneliers primarily, with a white W&N I had.  It might be a bit busy, and I added the darker purple at the bottom later, which I probably could have left out.

Looking at the photo of the painting, it might work better if I removed even more of the wispy vaporous clouds in the upper left side; I adjusted those from the reference photo as it was.

"Dreamscape #2 - 12x16"

Strathmore 400-series paper, sanded

Now, maybe time to use a warm palette and do some sunsets.

Aerial Sky Series - Cumulus Fly-by

After not getting anything done in my studio for the better part of a week, I finally sat down yesterday afternoon and painted.  It was good, and it reminded me that I need to make painting every day a priority, regardless of what else I do or don't get done on that day...which lately, isn't nearly as much as I'd like.

I did, however, update my blog.  In addition to changing the layout to a new template design, I also got around to updating and adding some more blog links, and adding the thumbnail pictures to them.   I hope readers find the new layout to be an improvement as well.

Last night, I sat down and counted the number of pastel paintings I've done since I switched to 2D work back in October [the # of completed paintings I have photos of; not the throw-aways].  This painting is #70.  I've heard it said that one must do at least 100 paintings in order to obtain a minimal level of skill and comfort in the medium, and start to develop a personal style.  I suspect there is a lot of truth to that; I do know that with each painting, I learn something.  Sometimes, it's an "ah-ha!" moment, a small breakthrough.  Other times, it's more of "well, that didn't work", which is maybe not as fun, but equally as valuable.  I post almost all of it here, even the funk.  Hopefully, as I continue towards 100 paintings and beyond, there will be more good and less funk.

I do wonder, though, how long it will be before I do have my own unique painting style.  Right now, it seems that my "style" is "consistently inconsistent".   This painting looks nothing like the last painting posted; it's loose and experimental as far as the colors go.  I wanted to use layering and scumbling to achieve some more exciting grays to depict the cloud colors and smog layer underneath.  The camera did rather odd things to the colors, and I had to dial back the contrast on the photo almost completely to get it to look like the real thing.   Even still, it looks better viewed in person; the darkest areas are not black, as appears on the photo, but the dark blue and purple from my favorite MV Thunderstorm Grays set.

It's based on a photo taken during the final descent towards Hartsfield-Jackson Int'l, in Atlanta, from my flight in April.  It was approaching evening, during the "golden period" of light, coveted by both painters and photographers.

Cumulus Fly-by - 11x9"

pastel on 320# sandpaper  

The goal was to experiment with colors, and to have a more abstracted image of the clouds.  To that end, the painting was a success for me.   I may set a goal of completing another 28 paintings before we leave for Durango next month.

Sky Friday - Serenity

I realized as I sat down to write this post that it was already Friday, and given that this is #5 in the Aerial Skies series, it fits the bill for today's Sky Friday post.  

When I was deciding what I wanted to do for my next painting in this series, I kept coming back to one of the images I took during our July trip to CO last year.  In my mind's eye, I'd seen it as a painting at the time I was seeing the view out my window of the 757 flight from Cleveland to Denver.  When I started this painting a few days ago, I figured that there would probably be a lot of people that wouldn't "get it". Wayne said:  "If you want to paint something that will probably sell, do a sunset."  I'm sure he's right.  But, I paint for myself first and what grabs at my senses and emotions.  So, this was it.  

I suspected when I started on this painting that it would end up going in a more detailed, realistic direction than what I generally aim for in my work.  I've learned now that it's really pointless to fight the painting or the process; it will have a direction and sometimes that's not maybe what the artist intended.   I'm not sure this would have worked as well, at least in my hands, if it were looser like the others in this series.  

I'm also not sure exactly how to categorize it.  "Abstracted realism"?  "Realism with a surrealistic edge"?  I don't know.  As a photo, it's clear what the subject is.  As a painting, it takes on a different reality, as it were.  I really wanted to capture the dynamic shapes, reflected light and shadows of these amazing clouds as seen from 20,000' or so.  A critical part of making this painting work, to my mind, was to accurately capture the flowing nature of the lower layer of the clouds in what is essentially the foreground, and give the middle ground of higher clouds that light "vapor" quality.  Many of the earlier cloud paintings I've done I felt were "stiff" and heavy, and I think it's a subject that many artists struggle to paint.

"Serenity"   -   12x18"

Pastel on Strathmore 400-series paper

For an added challenge, I decided to do it on Stathmore paper, which is similar to Canson M-T.  It's got a textured surface and doesn't hold many layers of pastel without fixative.  But, until I put in an order for some UArt or larger Wallis sheets, it's all I've got that's bigger than 9x12".   For this, I pretty much had to do quite a bit of finger blending, although I kept it to light touches with the tip of my index finger.  Grinding the pastel into the surface really kills the luminosity of the pastel, so I try to avoid that.  When I do, it's only to form an underpainting and fill in the unwanted surface texture of the paper.

I thought to take an in-progress photo showing areas with initial blending and the lower areas as they were blocked in with Nupastels.  I used my MV Thunderstorm grays for this, along with some favorite Unisons and a few Senneliers.  The fun part was lightly scumbling in various blues and greys.  Most probably aren't visible in the photo.  

Even coming up with a name for the painting wasn't that easy.  I originally titled it "Above Gray Skies", but that sounded trite.  When I look at this, I feel a sense of calm and quiet, so the title reflects that.

It's certainly not your average "cloudscape", but I find the departure refreshing.  I hope viewers do as well.

Experimental and exploratory - pastels

Last week, after looking through a collection of random abstract photos I've taken looking for the next subject for a painting, I decided to use it as an opportunity to experiment with color. Understanding colors is crucial to creating a successful painting, regardless of the style, medium or subject matter chosen. I find it often to be a weak link in my own work. I spend a lot of time reading books, magazines, and reading/surfing artist blogs, as I love to see how other artists handle color in their work.

I also decided that this practice would be a good way to use up some of the Canson Mi-Teintes paper I have had in my art supplies for the past 10 years. Many, if not most, pastelists find the surface to be less-than-desireable to work on, as it has a patterned texture and doesn't have much tooth to hold pastel. It can be an exercise in frustration to work on, and I'd have to agree with others who say it's not a good surface for beginners to use. However, I've seen absolutely fantastic works created on it, so clearly it *is* possible to make it work.

I wanted to experiment with compliments and also high-chroma/high saturated colors, as well as greys.

Using a scrap piece of my wet-dry sandpaper, I chose colors that I liked that I thought would harmonize well together. They looked vibrant and intense on the black surface of the paper.

However, light-colored Canson is nothing like dark sandpaper, and the same colors that looked vibrant and glowing looked weak and anemic on the Canson.  Ugh.  Figuring "what the heck?", I began vigorously blending the pastel into the paper with my index finger [gloved]. 

Instead of immediately tossing the paper in the trash, I decided to experiment with scumbling, lines and colors, layering without blending.  Light over dark, dark over light, hard edges, feathering, scumbling - it was totally random and I loved the process.  As I continued, I realized that I was learning a lot and that the paper was actually more responsive than I'd hoped. While the end result isn't anything I'd describe as a purposeful painting, or of any artistic merit, I found it to be tremendously valuable, and I'm keeping it as a reference rather than binning it: 

abstract color study

9x9" Canson

From that, I went on to do this small study, also an abstract.  It is based on a photo I took of a granite boulder along the Agua Fria river trip.  I have taken several photos of rock surfaces over the years, as I'm drawn to the shadows, cracks and textures of the rocks.  I modified the composition a bit from the photo, and did a small value/notan study.  A graphite drawing was first done, and then using some of the techniques/colors from the above piece, I did this little study:

Granite abstract study

pastel on Canson, 6x9"

Abstracts offer such an excellent way to explore color, design and composition by allowing oneself to be freed of "convention".  So, I will definitely be doing more in the future.  In the meantime, I've been using Canson for more studies and quick landscapes, and will be posting those in the future. 

Reflection Abstract in pastel

I've long admired well-done abstract paintings, everything from abstracted landscapes in bright colors to ultra-realistic renderings of objects, or portions of objects, enlarged to focus on form for the sake of design.  Until now, I've relied on my camera to capture abstracted imagery.  Between some artist's work and artist's blogs that I follow who are either self-defined as abstract painters, or whose work is described as such by others, I have been wanting to try it.  While it might be easy to discount such seemingly simple paintings with a:  "my kid could do that" observation, it is decidedly much more difficult to decide what to leave out of a painting, or to find design in someting out of its usual context, than to merely copy what is right before you.

At a used bookstore in Tucson, I recently purchased a book written by Barclay Sheaks, titled Drawing and Painting the Natural Environment.  It was written in 1974, published by Davis Publications, Inc., and is long since out of print.  However, it is an exceptional book and quickly became one of the cornerstone books for my reference library on painting and drawing.  There is a chapter, entitled:  "Abstractions from Nature:  Another Kind of Vison", that offered some really useful concepts and suggestions for creating this type of art.  Between this book, and the other artists whose work I've admired for years (like Wolf Kahn) or artists whose blogs I read regularly, it seemed like a good time to try that myself.
For this particular painting, it is somewhat a combination of realism and abstraction.  It is in keeping with my fondness for nature abstracts by focusing on shapes, patterns and values.  However, it will probably be readily identifiable as what it is:  reflections of trees on the surface of moving water, painted realistically.

I didn't want to get too fiddly with it, so I tried to work quickly and not over-work or over think the process - a rut that is all too easy to get into as a painter.  The painting is based on a photo I took on my trip back from Flagstaff, of a creek just north of Payson.  I'll definitely be doing more abstract paintings in the future.

"Reflections" - 9x11"

pastel on sanded paper