Medium and Large

I have just completed a commission to interpret a finished work in a different format. The buyers had admired a pastel work of mine for some time, but were concerned that it would be too small for the space planned for it, and that the glass required on a pastel would create too many obtrusive reflections because of the adjacent large windows. Accordingly, they asked me to consider re-interpreting the work in a much larger size and in a medium that would not require glass to frame.

Here is the original work:

Time to Go, pastel on sanded panel, 12" x 36"; framed $750

Time to Go, pastel on sanded panel, 12" x 36"; framed $750

When accepting the commission, I asked them what they admired about the pastel, and was told that it was the mood, the colours, the movement of the geese, and the oblong format that they especially liked.

After measuring the intended space, I purchased two possible canvases (30" x 60" and 36" x 72"). I tried them both in the space, and decided that it definitely needed the larger size; however, I was concerned that neither of the canvases retained the ratio of the original (1:3). I considered cutting down the larger canvas to 30" x 72" to be closer, but in the end determined that the 36" height filled the space better. Because of this decision, I decided that the composition would need a greater "depth of field" and planned to expand the scene into a greater depth. The buyers are retired geologists who have spent considerable time in tundra landscapes, and I guessed that a bigger view of a tundra marsh would appeal to them. As well, on this larger scale, a band of solid dark value in the background (as in the original) could be oppressive, so I planned to break up the space with a more varied sky.

After doing a quick thumbnail value sketch to finalize the basic composition, I sketched out the large shapes on the canvas with a pencil. Thinking that this larger format needed more textural interest than the smaller original, I then applied a texture to all the marsh grass areas. To do this, I applied a layer of thick gesso with a palette knife to each grass section, and then dragged a comb-like plastic tool through the wet gesso to create a grassy texture. As I worked, I kept perspective in mind, creating smaller scale marks on sections further in the distance in the scene.

Once the gesso was thoroughly dry, I did the first pass with acrylic, developing the foundational values and hues for all sections: a mid-dark value blue-grey for the sky and water, and a mid-value gold (my favourite Naples yellow) for all the grasses. Then, I applied variations of these colours to create depth and texture in the grasses, establishing the three-dimensional shape of them against the water areas. As I washed various colours over the textured areas, the ridges took the colour while the gold showed between--this method creates a naturally textured and believable grass effect that I find more pleasing than what can be accomplished by brushstrokes alone. As the painting progressed, I repeated this technique twice: once to raise the area of marsh and reduce the area of sky, and once to reshape the closest grass section to create a better composition. Both of these modifications improved the eye path that guides the viewer's gaze around the painting.

The water areas required only some strokes and spatters of pale grey to suggest that it had iced over, and I added some very light grey areas to the edges of the grasses to indicate areas of snow caught at their bases.

To create the desired effect in the sky, I brushed in various muted tones of cream, pale gold, and a soft rose to hint at impending dawn on the horizon at the point where the stream disappeared. The horizon itself turned out to be the most challenging part of the painting!  I wanted the values to be very close so that the division between earth and sky was very muted (as it is in the far distance), yet the hues (gold/grey) needed to be just enough different to reveal the division between the two planes. Eventually I achieved this balance, but it took awhile!

Once the landscape itself was completed to my satisfaction came the scariest part: adding the geese!  I knew that I had to scale up the size of the birds for this larger format, while still retaining the sense of blurred motion from the original. With the original pastel in front of me for reference, and only a basic sense of the size, shape, number, and attitude of geese required, I took a deep breath, dipped my brush in dark brown paint, and quickly sketched in all the geese at once in varying wing positions.  When I let out the breath I was holding and stepped back, I saw to my relief that I had achieved the same sense of motion and direction as I had in the pastel. Phew! A few refinements in shape, and the addition of the white marks that identify these birds as Canada geese finished this step. As a final touch I added the dark shadows below the geese that suggest that the water has frozen over to ice.

I pondered the work for 24 hours, made a few more small changes, and then signed it on the front and added the title and date on the back. I called it The Urge for Going, based on the title of a Joni Mitchell song that includes the following lyrics:

See the geese in chevron flight flapping and racing on before the snow
They've got the urge for going and they've got the wings so they can go
They get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown

My clients were away for a few days, but had left me a house key, so I delivered the painting, leaving it propped in the planned niche with the spotlights on it, and nervously awaited their response...until I got a text the next day that shouted "It's PERFECT!!!" I am very glad that they love the finished work. However, I never hold a client to a purchase even on a commission. I only take on commissions that I feel I can accomplish to my own satisfaction and enjoy creating. If the buyer then refuses the finished piece, I can be confident that it will stand on its own and find another buyer at some future time.

And here is the completed work:

The Urge for Going, acrylic on canvas, 36" x 72" x 2"; collection P. Allen & J. Devlin

Completed demo

And here is the piece I completed at OPUS on Saturday. We had a great crowd of people who competed with the many Winterruption attendees to find a parking space, watched attentively, and asked great questions.  Thanks also to the very helpful staff who made it a really good experience. Hope to do it again some time!

Arc & Splash 20.5 x 28.5 unframed $700

Arc & Splash 20.5 x 28.5 unframed $700

Wave demo at OPUS Granville Island Feb 20, 2016

I will be doing a demo of painting waves in pastel next Saturday, Feb 20 from 11-1 at OPUS Fine Art Supplies, at their Granville Island location. I understand that registration is now full, but if you are interested you may wish to contact them (604-736-7028) to be put on the waiting list. If enough people get on the wait list, perhaps we will schedule an additional demo!

Rock & Splash, pastel on paper, 13 x 20, framed with museum glass, $550

Rock & Splash, pastel on paper, 13 x 20, framed with museum glass, $550


Making Shades of Grey

The phrase "shades of grey" has come to have a particular meaning in our world today because of the salacious novel by EL James, but in this case I am referring to the literal shades of grey that can be mixed with paint!

Respected pastel artist Richard McKinley recommends that pastelists separate out their neutral pastel sticks, storing them apart from the gem-hued intensity of their other pastels, so that the subtle beauty and infinite gradations of the neutrals can be better appreciated and, therefore, used to good effect. Here's a good example of one of his works that illustrates the point:

Indeed, "grey" can be skewed across the entire spectrum, from a rosy-hued pinkish grey through warm yellowish greys through to cool greenish, blue-ish and purplish greys. What they all have in common is the low level of saturation, or intensity. The more pure pigment in a colour, the more "saturated" it is considered to be.  Fully saturated colours are a bit like strong spices--a little goes a long way! And if you have one very spicy dish on your menu, it's good to have a number of palate-calming bland foods alongside. Otherwise, your diners will be overwhelmed by the clash of strong flavours, and nothing will be discernible from the cacophony. In the context of McKinley's quiet greyed tones above, the few stronger hues and the small areas of strong value contrast along the left bank of the stream draw our eye, just as he intended.

The other thing greys have in common is a fairly low-to-middle value range. Let's look at McKinley's image again, in greyscale.

Note how little range there is in the dark-to-light scale. Almost all the colours he used are in the mid-to-low value range, with a slightly lighter value in the sky and the small areas of water where he wants higher value contrast against the dark edge of the bank. Again, the effect is quiet and subtle, helping us as viewers to appreciate this gentle scene.  It's not a screaming parade---it's a lilting lullaby.

If you are using liquid pigment (watercolour, acrylic, oil) as opposed to pastels, you can mix an infinite range of beautiful greys to suit your needs.  Yes, you can, of course, begin by mixing black and white in various proportions.  But these greys are often flat and rather dead.

Instead, try mixing complementary colours (violet/yellow; blue/orange; red/green) in various proportions, and then add a small amount of white or black to adjust the value of the resulting grey. As you will see through experimentation, a huge range of neutral greys is thus obtained.

In a recent lesson in acrylic, I used this technique to produce my demo painting. The only paints used in this painting were naples yellow, light blue violet, black and white. As you can see, a full range of warm and cool greys were produced just from these four colours.

On a Quiet Afternoon; acrylic on panel; 16 x 20; $550 framed

On a Quiet Afternoon; acrylic on panel; 16 x 20; $550 framed

While such paintings don't necessarily drag people across a room, they do reward intense and prolonged consideration, making them long-lasting pleasures for discerning collectors.

Abstracting a motif

For a recent lesson in pastel painting, I created an image based on an old photo taken on a trip to New Zealand. The painting is quite naturalistic, and conveys both the "reality" and the "feeling" of the scene and the event, and I'm quite pleased with it as a good example of my typical style.

The Sunlit Path pastel on sanded paper 14 x 21 unframed $500

The Sunlit Path pastel on sanded paper 14 x 21 unframed $500

The following week, I gave a lesson in acrylic painting, and decided to explore abstracting the same motif in acrylic paint, primarily using a palette knife technique. I had a wide black deep-set frame I wanted to use, and a canvas to fit it, so I chose this exercise to match the drama of the frame.

This time, although the composition is the same, I pushed the colour palette by saturating the colours throughout and adding brighter accents. As in the pastel painting, I first created an underpainting in a range of pinks and purples, and left some of it showing through the final layers. I also simplified the shapes and strengthened the textures. Using the painting knife in various orientations, I created wide flat swathes of colour contrasted by fine linear accents, and used a rubber wood-graining tool to generate more grass-like textures in some areas.

Nearly There acrylic on canvas 20 x 24 framed $750

Nearly There acrylic on canvas 20 x 24 framed $750


The result is not as typical of my style, but I like the effect just as much as the more naturalistic pastel. Which work is "better"? The question only has meaning in a subjective sense.  Both works are successful in terms of concept, composition, contrast, colour, and clarity. Each one expresses and fulfills my intent for the specific piece.  The only question for a collector is, "Which one do you like better?" And every answer is valid!