Transfixed by Translucency

Jacob Collins exhibit at Adelson Galleries, Inc., NYC

Lately I've been especially interested in the delicate transmission of light through objects. And last month I was totally transfixed by translucency, viewing the work of contemporary master  Jacob Collins at Adelson Gallery in New York.

I mean, just what happens to white paper when light goes through it. How are those subtle color changes and shadows created?

Check out the shadow and edge color in the enlarged insert of Jacob Collins' "Paper with Drawing Instruments" below. Incredible.

Using Photoshop's sampling tool, I compared the "white" on the left side (in brighter light) to the "white" near the pencil. Samples of those areas are shown in the two color boxes to the right of the detail, indicating the spectrum of "white" in his paper. Somehow, it's dramatic and subtle at the same time.

detail Paper with Drawing Instruments by Jacob Collins

In the full image below, looking from the brightest paper in full light at the left, to the paper farthest from the light source, you can really appreciate the range of value (light/shadow) and hue (color).

©2015 Jacob Collins, "Paper with Drawing Instruments," at Adelson Galleries Inc., NY

©2014 David Ligare at Hirschl & Adler Gallery

Another excellent example of painted translucency is David Ligare's "Telemachus and the Crow." Such intense, strong sunlight on the right side of the figure. And then the challenge is to intensify it to indicate the effect of that strong light on the translucent fabric drape.

So beautifully done, it glows.

Amram on Amram ©2015 Dorothy Lorenze oil on board 6x12"

So... with this "light painting" in mind, I went to the farmers market and bought some funky looking cheese to paint. 

This cheese is a product of the Bobolink Dairy & Bakery and they called it "Amram" in honor of their friend and music icon David Amram. Since I've been interested in painting paper, as well as cheese, this seemed the perfect combination of objets d'art. 

Amram cheese on Amram sheet music! 

 

The music sheet is actually a copy of David Amram's "Canción de Verano," which means "Song of Summer." Also perfect for the occasion since Amram is an early cheese from this wonderful, small, raw-milk, dairy farm making cheeses from grass-fed cows, aged in caves! The cheese, not the cows. 

You can check out their latest "vintage" (milkage? lactage?) at Pleasantville Farmers market on Saturday mornings.

My "Amram on Amram," complete with sheets of paper, that is foreshortened and somewhat translucent. The really tricky part was the curled paper edges. An exciting challenge over all!

Still life and details

We've all been warned against "getting too bogged down in the details!" Certainly, getting bogged down for any reason is not a good thing. But when I set up a still life, the details - subtle differences and contrasts - are what intrigue and challenge me.

Details add interest and richness to a painting. I found this baby cabbage at a farmer's market last fall. Cabbage: a ball of green. But this one was only the size of a softball, with light green veins, hearty leaves and an awesome, blueish cast on the outer leaves. Beautiful!

Vintage Cabbage ©2014 Dorothy Lorenze

Originally, the wine crate's job was simply to bring the arrangement to eye level. But, like an understudy who catches a break, the finer points of the crate caught my attention and it became an important, supporting cast member.

Plus this crate had lettering! I considered leaving it out, but the type not only added to the composition, it suggested a title: Vintage Cabbage. Anyway, who doesn't want to hand-paint classical letter forms... upside down!

The fascinating thing about wood grain is it seems so random. You could almost fake it, but it's actually easier and more satisfying to render it fairly accurately.

Why? 

DETAILS

Each piece of wood has character that's created by patterns and lines that distinguish it from another. The patterns can be simplified to be less botanically precise, but it's most interesting when the wood is observed and rendered at least somewhat faithfully. Because details convey the character of an object. Always.

This painting includes a different wooden box. The specifics of the wood grain, including its blemishes, describe the more polished, but antique, box that it is.

Munchkin and Silver Spoon ©2014 Dorothy Lorenze

Details can help objects relate to one another and keep the viewer engaged. In this close up, the pumpkin's creamy color is reflected in the spoon handle as well as the top of the box. There is also a bit of reflected light from the spoon brightening the under curve of the pumpkin.

detail - Munchkin and Silver Spoon

It's exciting when such observations come into focus. It may not be noticeable early-on, but gradually those beautiful moments are revealed - like unwrapping a gift in layers of tissue.

What tends to happen is, just about the time I'm thinking, "Holy crap, how many more veins do I need to paint to make this look like a cabbage!?" I'll notice an unexpected color in a shadow, or some other artistic surprise, and it's kind of thrilling all over again.

Apparently, that's why I paint still life... for the thrills!

If you'd like to know more about why I enjoy still life painting, please take a look at my article on the Craftsy website for art and craft instruction: 10 Reasons to Paint Still Life. Enjoy!


Thanks for joining me on my painting journey.

Patience vs Persnickety-ness

Recently I complained about my lack of patience when it comes to painting. That comment sparked "incredulous" replies suggesting I must have tons of patience, considering the level of detail in some of my paintings. In particular, this one -

Sitting Pretty, 9x12" ©2014 Dorothy Lorenze

The thing is, although I love the details, it can be hard for me to stop adding them. So that's where patience comes in. I just can't believe I'm not done yet!

With so many details under scrutiny, I tend to get antsy and then I have a hard time staying focused. I'll be working on the wallpaper when I notice a part of the rug that isn't right so I have to fix that before I lose track of it. Then I'll go back to figure out where I left the wallpaper pattern, when suddenly I notice that the perspective needs correction!!! 

So I make tea. 

Why tea? It takes a few minutes to boil, a few more to steep and then I sit at my easel waiting for it to cool enough to sip. Just about the perfect length of time to refocus and reassess.

This became clear in a class with Leah Lopez at New York Academy of Art. I was having trouble deciding what was wrong with my painting. Leah told me to step back, and compare the subject to the painting to see if the area I was struggling with should be lighter or darker. I said, "lighter." Wrong. She gently (but firmly) suggested that I step farther back and give it some distance. When I still couldn't see it, she told me to leave the room! 

So I left. And when I came back it was immediately obvious that the trouble spot needed to be darker! Real distance requires time as well as space.

There is something about walking away and returning that can bring a level of clarity. Being impatient is what gets me to walk away. It's all a part of the process. 

Here is the painting framed in a beautiful plein air from San Diego Framing Company. Putting a frame around an interior scene adds a bit of mystery or intrigue, I think. It's like looking through a window into someone else's story.


Thanks for joining me on my painting journey!

Daily Painting or Painting Daily

There's an ambitious movement in the world of painting that has inspired lots of painting "hobbyists" to become more serious about their artwork. It's called A Painting a Day or Daily Painting, etc., and the idea is to commit to making a painting everyday for a specified period of time. It can be a great motivator.

The practice apparently started with Duane Keiser around 2004 when he decided to challenge himself and to maximize the internet as a marketing tool by posting (and selling!) a new painting everyday. Duane explains it in an interview in Huffington Post.

I first heard of daily painting through Carol Marine's Daily Paintworks around 2009, about the time I was trying to establish a painting discipline of my own - and totally clueless. The idea of doing a painting each and every day was intriguing, inspiring and seemingly impossible!

So I tried to paint fast and loose... and I really do like those painterly, vibrant brushstrokes... but it turns out I like the details even more!

Although I know there is great benefit to rendering quick interpretation of a scene and simplifying images, the pressure to complete a painting a day is more than I can take. And I'm never satisfied with the results. So, instead of Daily Painting, my commitment is Painting Daily.

Establishing a routine to paint daily was hard enough. I once asked Karen O'Neil how she organizes her day to paint regularly. She said, "I put my son on the bus, go for a run and then I paint." That sounds simple enough.

Now it's working for me (minus the running!) And the more time I spend at the easel the more I observe the subtleties and details that excite me in a composition and I know that's what I want to master.

©2014 Dorothy Lorenze, 9x12" oil on panel

This is Dr. Haines Petit Déjuener. (Dr. Haines is the owner of the top hat - it says so, right inside!)

I'm proud to say that after working on this painting for days, and thinking it was "done" I felt the need to refine the silver butter server and knife, and it's so much better. Maybe someday I'll get it right the first time, but for now, I'll practice patience and perseverance.

Just for fun, a close-up of the before-and-after of the butter server:

Now the silver shines, the bell is rounder and the knife lies flat. 

I'm a happy camper. And this painting is on its way to Greene Gallery in Guilford, CT.

Thanks for stopping by to view my art!

painting alla prima

This painting was done in the traditional "alla prima" or "direct" method of painting which involves painting wet layers upon wet layers. It has been used for centuries by artists from the early Dutch masters to the Impressionists and beyond (not that I'm comparing...)

The other traditional method is glazing or "indirect" painting which involves adding thin layers of paint on dry under-layers to build up the color - which basically takes more patience than I have! 

Oil paint dries  s l o w l y .

The beauty of alla prima is that you can't over-think it! That's helpful to someone like me who tends to obsess about capturing details in graphite drawing and even graphic design (Q: how many fonts do you need to try to design an invitation? A: about as many as you have!)

So, for me, it's a challenge to capture the essence of a composition without over-working it. Alla prima painting stifles that obsession - in a good way. It means honing in quickly on what you want to express. In this painting the thing surprise observation that interested me was the warmth of reflected light in the shadow area of both the vase and the grapes. It links the objects in an unexpected way since you generally think of shadows as cool. Everything else is painted to support that relationship.

Of course, the fact that this painting was done in Leah Lopez's class at the New York Academy of Art didn't hurt. Nothing like knowing you have to finish within a three hours to help FOCUS!

(to be completely honest... I did add some finishing touches at home)  

You can see this effect more clearly in person. And just your luck - this painting is part of my solo show this May at the Ruth Keeler Memorial Library in North Salem during library hours.

Stop by!

Out of the mouths of babes...

Okay, here goes. I'm taking my art journey to a new place... starting a blog. It's official. Let the bloggin' begin!

After many years as a graphic artist and a lifetime of drawing I began painting in oils in 2007. It took a change of scenery to actually get started, but once I jumped in, it felt great! I've been painting ever since and enjoying it more and more.
Painting is wonderful...and frustrating, inspiring, difficult and rewarding. Sometimes all in the same day! So I take encouragement wherever I can get it. One of my favorite comments EVER came from my grand daughter Jule. She was 5 and I was trying to paint a still life of her Russian Nesting dolls. It's chock full of ellipses and the forms were escaping me! Jule wanted to know how it was going.

So I told her, "Oh Jule, it's really difficult, I don't know if this is going to come out so good. There are so many circles and it's really hard to do..."

And Jule said, "Just do your best, I know I'll love it!"

perfect!

So I did my best, and of course she loves it! But I love her confidence in me. This photo is  a bit out of focus, but since the original is proudly displayed in Jule's bedroom, it's all I've got. I wanted to share the painting and the story because it reminds me to listen to voices other than my own!

What an adventure -
...circles, ellipses and color, oh my!
So this is one of my first oil paintings - the one that inspired Jule to inspire me!