The Missing Corner

Here is the piece that got left out in the cropping described in the previous post.  It sat on my desk and held the wipings from my brushes for several days, and then I attacked it with intent to redeem.  Now I like it! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

When in doubt, just crop!

Sometimes a painting will look okay to me except for 1 corner, or 1 section, which simply refuses to cooperate or edify the whole work in any way.  I have extra mats in all standard sizes, which I can move around to isolate parts of a piece.  This helps me to decide what is worth saving, and what to pitch—or perhaps cut off, rinse, and re-work.  (On Yupo paper, the rinsing works really well.  The original white sheet is restored.)

Above, is a sample of 1 large painting (watercolor and gouache on Yupo paper) cropped into 1 medium and 2 smalls.  The left over piece is on my table, with many colors mingled on it.  Currently this “discard” is serving as a spare palette and a surface on which to wipe my brush when working on other paintings—but eventually the reject may become a rendering worth matting and saving.

The problem solving involved in making art (of any kind!) is a great part of the fun.  It’s amazing to see what one can salvage and redeem from an apparently lost cause!  Never think “failure”.  When in doubt, just crop!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Why art?

Putting aside preferences involving representational vs. abstract art, there is a world of diversity concerning the question, “What should art say?”, or ”Why art?”  

Throughout the ages art, like literature, has been created for many reasons, among them:  to inspire; inform; entertain; to celebrate, satirize, or decry a culture; and for the promotion of countless philosophical, religious, social, political, historical, and personal agendas.  The beautiful, the ugly, the wholesome, the sick, the gracious, the mean—virtually every aspect of life on this planet (and elsewhere) has been depicted on canvas or paper, through the various media of art. 

Perhaps most every serious artist has a specific reason for making art, an inner drive to express his or her motivating philosophy of life.  Reasons and philosophies often create controversy, and thus we have the question, “Why art?”  Just as artists have divergent reasons for doing their craft, art collectors may claim as many varied reasons for hanging art on their walls.

When asked ”Why art?”, I can only answer for myself.  I love beauty.  I love life.  I love upbeat whimsy.  I love nature.  I love, and worship, the Author of Creation.  A love for God and His truth, a hunger for beauty, and a zest for living are the ruling passions behind anything I do—in the kitchen, in the garden, or in my studio. 

Each person differs in the concept of what is beautiful.  That’s why we have individuality in our clothing, as well as in our home decor.  What I think is beautiful or worthwhile to hang on my walls may not appeal to someone else.  But a standard of aesthetics in some form or another exists for all of us who desire to affirm life.  We share a passion for life.  We value beauty, and we express that value —each in our unique and personal way, to the best of our ability.

Wisconsin fine artist Jeffrey T. Larson succinctly addressed the priorities of affirming life and upholding the value of beauty when interviewed a few years ago, for American Artist magazine: 

“The media makes sure we are aware of the ugliness and tragedy of our times, so I don’t think artists are obliged to thrust more of that harsh reality in front of people.  I want to remind people that despite terrorism, abuse, poverty, and illness, this is a golden time in humankind’s history.  I want to join other artists in helping people see the benefit of remaining hopeful, optimistic, loving, enthusiastic, and courageous.  Life is too short and art is too long for us to be concerned with anything else.”  Jeffrey T. Larson

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

More about art books . . .

Even though I will always consider myself a student and a “beginning artist”, my favorite books by artists are not the beginner’s ”how to” books.  These are generic in content, and they often infer that there is “one way” to do art.  The basic and necessary info on how to run a wash, dry brush vs. wet on dry or wet on wet, plus the properties and characteristics of various paints, papers, and brushes, constitute only a few pages in any book—and those instructions may be found online, involving the printing out of perhaps 2 or 3 sheets of paper.  The basics do not warrant the price of purchasing an entire book, if that book is limited in scope.

Most of the material in a beginner’s “how to” book demonstrates how that particular author/artist puts a painting together, as if his or her method were set in stone.  The most typical approach is to draw a picture with a pencil, and then paint in the picture.  While I have never been claustrophobic in elevators or caves, I confess to wanting to scream and run when I look inside a “how to” book that stresses some sort of method of painting within lines.*  The line technique may produce a predictable look, but that look is simply not my heart’s desire.  For me it would be about as creative and individualistic as messing around with a “paint by number” kit.  The only way I can negotiate lines is to draw them for starters, and then ignore them by painting over (and outside) them!

The art books I love are in a special class by themselves.  They are deeply readable with profound insights on which to chew, and I read them over and over and over every single week of my life.  Rather than feeling trapped, I want to be challenged and recharged—eager to explore more, experiment more, try more, dream and imagine more, and push out any preconceived walls that might threaten to enclose me.   

The ”how to” book presents recipes, and of course recipes have their place—especially in baking, where chemistry is involved.  But a thought provoking art book will progress beyond recipes, into the infinitely exciting and challenging world of ideas.  The ”how to” art book will show you how to paint like someone else, but a meaty art book will encourage you to paint like you!

In an earlier post I mentioned WATERCOLOR FROM THE HEART—by fine artist, Barbara Nechis.  This book details the author’s philosophy of art, her sources of inspiration, and many samples of her exquisite paintings along with a description of different techniques she employs—with the idea of inspiring other artists to experiment and venture into their own uncharted territory:  in essence, to find that personal “voice”.  So helpful is this book to me, that I wish I could personally thank its author for the exilarating sense of freedom I derive from reading it.

Another treasure in my art library is A PASSION FOR WATERCOLOR—Painting the Inner Experience, by Stefan Draughon.  Like WATERCOLOR FROM THE HEART, Stefan Draughon’s book delineates her journey in finding her own way and discovering her very own art. 

Finally ABSTRACT AND COLOUR TECHNIQUES IN PAINTING, by Clare Harrigan is a gem which I read again and again.  Don’t be fooled by the word “techniques” in the book’s title.  The word far exceeds “how to”; rather it explores many dimensions of seeing, understanding, and expressing in terms of a variety of media—ultimately leading to the discovery of personal “techniques” which may or may not be considered, according to the reader’s choice. 

These favorite books along with DVDs—DANCING WITH YUPO DVD by Taylor Ikin, and WATERCOLOR FROM WITHIN by Barbara Nechis—comprise my ongoing Art Study Program.  More resources may be added as I find them, along with inspiring biographies of well known artists from the past.

I know that basics are important.  We need to learn the rudiments in order to develop skill—in art, and most everything else in life.  Techniques are worth studying.  But we should never be in bondage to someone else’s idea of what works in art.  That’s where reading way beyond the beginner’s “how to” book is essential.  Each artist is unique, every means of expression is individual, and every style is personal.  My reading must augment all that is in me to produce work which is totally my own—unique, individual, and personal—so that I can continue to derive tremendous soul satisfaction from making art! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

*I believe that most every child has an innate art spirit.  But teachers and parents who instruct eager children to paint or color within the lines compromise one of the greatest deterrents to human creativity. 

I know people who absolutely WILL NOT pick up a paint brush simply because they were scolded as youngsters, for “going out of the lines”.  Due to negative feedback in early years, these adults are bunged up and terrified to try anything which is not prescribed, dictated, or specifically outlined with “how to” instructions from another person.  The bunged up person has never known the joy of escaping from a potentially soul-destructive box!

Ground Hog Day!

I don’t draw or paint animals very well.  They always seem to look like people, especially in the area of the eyes and facial expressions.  Now it may be argued that dogs are practically people—at least that goes for Collies and Pembroke Welsh Corgis.  But Ground Hogs are definitely not people, so I won’t try to paint them.

Meanwhile, I’ve always LOVED Ground Hog Day.  In Wisconsin, the traditional “take” on the day is confusing.  Whereas in some quarters 6 more weeks of winter may be considered “bad news” (for those who don’t ski), in our proverbial neck of the woods ONLY 6 more weeks is cause for a big HOORAH (provided you don’t ski).  Whatever . . . .

Here is a painting of what the Ground Hog may see, not in 6 weeks but perhaps in a few months—when he does come out to inspect my garden. 

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Inspiration is everywhere!

As a writer I’ve always been baffled by people who say they’d like to “take up writing”, but they don’t know what they would write about.  One doesn’t really “take up writing”.  Whether starting at an early or late age, a writer is a writer.  I suppose “taking up writing” means that one has finally begun to write—but the writer was always there, whether realized or not.

Likewise, I cannot say I’ve “taken up painting”, because the painter was always lurking inside me—waiting for the courage to materialize.  And as far as knowing what to write about, or what to paint, it should be obvious.  Life is all around us.  Inspiration is everywhere—in the scenery outside our windows, in the people we see, in the music we love, and in the books and poems we read.

Sometimes I will see, hear, or read something, and then set out to paint my impressions of that subject.  But more often, I begin with colors on wet paper and the subject emerges—reminding me of something I have read, heard, or seen.  The above mystic water craft sailed into view from a blur of color on YUPO® paper and immediately reminded me of Alfred Noyes’s poem “The Highwayman”—where “The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas”.  Since “ghostly galleons” (either in the form of a moon or actual ships) frequently appear on YUPO paper, I named the above rendering “Ghostly Galleon I”—knowing there will undoubtedly be more of its kind.

Here is an added thought on “inspiration”.  Sometimes we don’t feel “inspired” to paint, write, sculpt, bake, or whatever our art may be.  Yet it is good discipline to spend some time on our calling, even when we don’t “feel” like it.  At least a few moments everyday will prevent dry rot from setting in.  Even if the urge to produce is not prominent at the moment, as soon as we overcome any sluggish tendancies and “go to it”, something invariably happens.  The work takes over and creates itself.  Some of the paintings I like best were done at times when I didn’t feel like painting—until I sprayed some water on the paper and picked up a brush!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Note:  I am aware that real galleons do not have sails like the one pictured in this rendering.  As I’ve said before, I am not into photo realism!    MLB

My Winter Vacation

For the last two decades, Joe and I have made a pilgrimage West at least once a year—frequently in the Winter or early Spring.  Our destinations were Colorado and New Mexico, and we combined our love for the West with a visit to loved ones who live near Denver.

This year, the trip is not happening—but never mind.  My paintbrush travels to the High Rockies of Colorado, to the adobe houses of Taos and Santa Fe, NM, and to those fascinating Cliff Dwellings on the Four Corners.  Just as I never tired of traveling West, I will always love reading about the West via documentaries, histories, and Louis L’Amour novels.  And likewise, I probably will never tire of painting the West.

My favorites of L’Amour’s novels are those mysterious tales of lost canyons, valleys, and ancient cities in the regions surrounding the Cliff Dwellings.  My mind paints as I read, and eventually the paint materializes on paper.  Hence the above pair—Lost Valley of the Ancients I & II.

The paintings are propped on another passion of mine—my piano.  A collection of Scott Joplin rags peeks over the painting on your right as you view the photo.  Playing a Joplin rag never fails to make me smile!  Such mellow music, with soul! 

To the left of Scott Joplin, sits my venerable book of classics by Mozart, Schubert, Chopin, Beethoven, etc., which are infinitely satisfying to play.  (That’s why they are classics!)  The book was my mother’s, and it dates to the late 1920s or early 30s.  Not only did she gift me with her love for music, and of course the music lessons, but she left me the actual music books to enjoy.  My fingers don’t flow as effortlessly across the keys as hers did, but with practise I can play.  Mom would be pleased! 

Meanwhile, with books, paints, and a piano I really don’t need a “vacation”!  It’s all here, at home! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Okay, I did it!

I gave into the gnawings of my hyper-active conscience.  Even after posting a disclaimer on each YUPO® painting, stating that the picture would prevail through the ages if no one would touch it with wet fingers, yesterday I took approximately 60 YUPO paintings out of their see-through sleeves, sprayed the pictures with Blair 100® fixative, allowed the paintings to dry, and put them back into their see-through sleeves.  This stuff really works, dries quickly, and within minutes you can touch the painting with a wet finger—if that is something you are longing to do.  (You could spit on it, as well, but that wouldn’t make me very happy.)

The above-mentioned 60 were mainly paintings which I have tagged for sale in a possible showing, or here in my home gallery.  In another bin are at least 40 more paintings on the controversial glass-like surface, and soon I will spray those with the Blair.  But only a few at a time.  I did the first 60 in one rampage—whisking 3 or 4 at a time out to the garage, spraying them up and down and all around, whisking them back into the house to air on a flat surface (our bed!), and whisking the next increment out to the garage.

Later in the day I began to wonder why I was feeling bizarre.  I felt unsteady on my feet, light headed, and generally weak and ill.  Flu?  Sinuses?  Then I realized that I probably had the Blair 100 fixative disease after exposing my respiratory system to dose after dose of the stuff.  I did wear a mask for the last 2 sprayings, but hey—what good did that do, to lock the barn after the proverbial horses had been stolen?   

My husband, children, grandchildren, and Pembroke Welsh corgi are the most well tended and fussed over individuals imaginable—but sometimes I think I’m missing on a cylinder when it comes to common sense for myself!  I’m asthmatic, and would have benefited from wearing the mask the entire time—as well as not doing all 60 paintings in one day, to say nothing of trying to protect my eyes with brand new lenses via cataract surgery.  I never even thought of wearing goggles for the procedure.  What if the little hole on the sprayer had been aimed wrong?  At my new eyes!  Oh well, next time!

After the fact, I read all the fine print on the Blair can.  Yikes!  So I’m pleading with you, dear reader.  If you decide to fix your paintings, please do fix yourself first!   

Meanwhile, I lived through the frenzy of spraying and woke up this morning to create the above experimental rendering.  It’s called “Wisteria Hysteria”.  I have some fake wisteria hanging in our bedroom, and I have a thing about that lovely vine—possibly because of the English film, ENCHANTED APRIl, where 4 women flee from rainy/foggy London for a month at a villa in sunny Italy where the wisteria is blooming all over the place.

And guess what kind of a surface “Wisteria Hysteria” is painting on?  You’ve got it—YUPO!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Fixative: “To be, or not to be?”

If you consult GOOGLE with this question, “Should YUPO® paper be preserved with a fixative spray?” you will find different opinions.  Since YUPO® is a glasslike surface, it is not absorbent.  Therefore, watercolor paint can be removed from the surface, WITH WATER.  Once the painting is dry, a firm application of water can disturb the paint.

Last week I met a woman who had recently tried painting on YUPO for the first time.  She was absolutely incensed, because after her YUPO® painting had dried she dabbed at it with a wet finger and the paint lifted on that spot.  I tried to explain that there is no rationale for poking a picture with a wet finger, but she refused to consider my point.  She countered, “What about rain?” 

Again, I tried to reason that no one in their right mind would leave their paintings out in the rain, and anyway the moment a painting is thoroughly dry it gets matted, adhered to a backing board, and protected from the elements in a clear plastic sleeve—the size of the mat—until time to frame the picture.*  This was something completely out of my friend’s realm of experience, so she decided to declare war on YUPO® paper.

Some time ago, I did consult GOOGLE on the question of to fix or not to fix when painting on this slippery synthetic surface.  On various online forums, most watercolor hobbyists claim that they do use a fixative, or if they don’t go that route they simply use the YUPO® medium for experimenting and playing rather than actually creating a painting.  Since the paint may be removed from YUPO® an infinite number of times, you could spend a lifetime painting on one sheet of it—if you were not serious about making and sharing art. 

But I am serious.  And I love my YUPO®.  So I took the comments of casual hobbyists with the proverbial grain of salt, and went to websites featuring the QUEEN OF YUPO®, professional artist Taylor Ikin.  Taylor does not like to use a fixative spray, and will only do so when the painting is going to be handled by an outside framer—to deflect the possibility of carelessness in the process of framing.  When a picture is to be framed by someone else, Taylor Ikin sprays only around the edges of the painting.  Like me, if she doesn’t frame immediately she instead secures her matted painting in that indispensable product, a clear plastic sleeve—where it can safely remain forever, or until transferred to a frame.

According to Taylor, the work done on YUPO® is as safe as any other watercolor painting.  Without a direct and firm application of water, the paint will not run or diffuse, even in humid Florida where she lives.  (Taylor Ikin has YUPO paintings in her bathrooms in Florida!) 

And quite categorically, you would not leave a painting on 140# rag paper out in the rain either—just as you wouldn’t go dabbing at the picture on rag paper with wet hands.  In weighing these thoughts, it dawned on me that pastel art is far more fragile than anything we can do with watercolors—either on a rag or synthetic surface.  Pastel dust will flake off inside the frame.  Pastel artists go to great lengths to blow (sometimes by machine) the surplus dust off their works before framing them. 

No serious pastel artist ever wants to use a fixative on the top layer of chalk (although they sometimes spray between layers so that they can continue building color without creating mud) because spraying the final layer would most definitely dull or darken the colors.  So gallery owners simply have to cope with the potential glitch of pastel dust in their hangings—far more of an issue than the virtually non-existent threat of water getting into a framed watercolor painting on YUPO® paper.

Nonetheless, being a bit overly conscientious, I typed up a little statement to include with every YUPO® painting that I sell or present as a gift—saying that because this archival, environmentally friendly surface is non-porous it will not absorb the paint the way traditional watercolor papers do.  In the blurb, I included these words:  “It may be assumed that you will not be driving a truck over your painting, touching it with wet fingers, or pouring hot chocolate on it.  Therefore the painting will last behind glass for many generations, even centuries.  Matted with a standard size mat and backing, this work of art may be safely kept in its protective envelope until you transfer it to a ready-made frame under glass.”

I hope that disclaimer will ward off even the most inveterate painting-pokers with wet fingers.  

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

*I buy standard size mats and backings with plastic sleeves that fit each size.  These are economical, and I cannot imagine doing art any other way.  People can look at my paintings and safely handle them because of the protective sleeves.  In preparation for a show which I hope to present someday, I am framing paintings that I intend to hang in the show. 

Variety!

When I’m feeling peppy, I delight in venturing into uncharted territory.  That’s when the abstract shapes and surprising textures appear.  Yet there are days, and more likely evenings, when I’m weary.  Yet I still want to paint.

At weary moments, I persist in making art while celebrating beloved and familiar shapes and themes—those subjects where I can hardly miss, such as still lifes or trees.  Yet I’m constantly aware of trying to avoid clichés, overworked aspects of a piece which could potentially add up to ho-hum art.   My goal is to make every painting unique and different from any others I’ve done.

One way to prevent sameness in renderings is to vary color chords.  Tonight I decided to use black gouche—something I’ve never tried before.  I was instantly transported by the richness of black, and probably overdid it in the above painting titled “Dried Bounty”. 

Oh well, if I don’t overdo the black gouache in the next still life I won’t make a cliché of it! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

P. S.  Recently I ventured into new territory by selling a painting.  For a few days after that, I wasn’t aware of using my legs.  I floated!