Recently I attended a workshop on the use of alcohol inks. The class was held in a studio a few lovely country miles from our home, in a neighboring community. There were 15 of us in the workshop.
Alcohol ink only works its great magic on a non-absorbent surface, so we used my beloved Yupo paper for our introduction to the medium. For our first of 3 renderings, the instructor talked us through a basic technique which we all followed; we made rings of dots from drops of the ink, in colors of our choice, then blew through a straw to move the ink around. We added more blobs, blew some more, etc.
The beautiful freckles on the above sample, my 1st, were created by holding the surface of the work up horizontally and spraying horizontally from a bottle filled with Isopropyl Alcohol. The bottle needs to be significantly up and away from the painting so that the drops will fall gently on the paint, rather than in torrents—which would send the colors flying in additional directions.
From these humble beginnings, each of us created our first alcohol ink art, and every painting was totally unique. Clone-type workshops are currently in vogue, where a group of people follow a formula and all come up with nearly identical paintings—wine consumption notwithstanding. I have heard raves about these gatherings, as if they were some kind of a Renaissance Revolution. But conformity and uniformity in art are unspeakably dull, I think: as lackluster as painting by number. An art class such as the one I’m describing, where each participant makes something different and one of a kind, is a GOOD CLASS!
For our second rendering we were encouraged to make a close-up of flowers popping up out of grass. The instructor had one of her paintings as a sample. A few in the class mimicked the leader’s choice of colors and format, but most of us simply did our own thing. Here is my #2:
We concluded with one more piece. My #3 was my very favorite, but alas; the next day, I sprayed all 3 paintings with a fixative, got the spray too close to the surface of #3, and caused the ink to revitalize and run. So #3 got altered, not to my liking. Nonetheless, it is pictured below:
(Try to imagine that the magenta blur on the top half of the painting is not really a blur, but rather a hint of foxgloves hanging like bells—as in the lair of the Foxy Gentleman in Beatrix Potter’s TALE OF JEMINA PUDDLEDUCK.)
Blurred foxgloves nonetheless, the alcohol ink workshop inspired me. In July, the same instructor will show us how to apply the medium to glass, metal, and ceramic tiles. Meanwhile, I’m eager to share this newly-discovered art with my great-grandchildren* who live nearby. Too much fun!
Margaret L. Been — May 29th, 2017
*Divided between Wisconsin, Florida, Minnesota, and California, Joe and I have 18 great-grandchildren. And #19 is scheduled to appear in South Carolina on Christmas Day, 2017.
Now wasn’t that a sneaky way to get in a big brag?!!! 🙂
The Messy Palette . . . 