the slightest line

[Still Life with Glass Bottle, Marbles and Pine Cone. silverpoint. 7.5 x 10". 2012.]

"Fundamentally, even the slightest line partakes of mind and spirit." - Emile Mâle, Religious Art in France, 1910.

I am continuing my work in silverpoint and other drawing media. This still life composition took some time as I worked towards achieving a more dense atmosphere than previous pieces (March's Tulip & Paperwhite Bulbs, for example).

drawing & practice

[Tulip & Paperwhite Bulbs. silverpoint on prepared ground. 7.5x10". 2012]

"Always be drawing and do not waste time." - Michelangelo
"You have to practice even to be lousy." - Jack Benny

The importance of drawing regularly --- daily, even --- is indispensable for the artist. Drawing is the most direct and personal method of working out ideas, developing discipline and coordination between the mind and the hand --- the idea and the recording of it. The drawing above of flower bulbs is done in silverpoint, a really lovely medium I enjoy working in. Silverpoint is an early drawing medium that consists of a wire, about the same diameter as pencil lead, made of pure silver that is held in a stylus or handle, like an X-acto stencil knife handle. (I show three of mine below. The one I set into an old engravers tool handle is the most comfortable to hold.) It is used upon a prepared surface (ground) that has enough 'tooth' to allow the silver wire to leave faint scratch marks which are slowly built up and tarnish. I worked it pretty heavy to build up tones darker than what I am used to seeing in silverpoint. The current exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Renaissance Portrait from Donatello to Bellini, up through March 18, has some wonderful examples of metalpoint drawing and the sophisticated and subtle effects that can be obtained.

This time I prepared my own ground, made of fine marble dust and white pigment into a liquid binder of rabbit skin glue, applied in three layers on acid-free illustration board. Each layer took a few hours to dry thoroughly and I removed very rough bits and areas before applying the next coat. A light sanding provides a smooth surface but avoid breathing the dust.

New York artist Margaret Krug, author of An Artist's Handbook, told me that she prepares a ground for her silverpoint drawings by combining zinc white pigment mixed into a watercolor binder, which is simple and economical and provides very beautiful results.

Silverpoint drawing supplies are available through mail-order from Natural Pigments of California.


[^ Above, three of my silverpoint drawings tools. Below, close-up of same. (L) 1.2mm diameter "dead soft" silver wire in an engravers tool handle salvaged from a flea market; (M) 2mm diameter "dead soft" silver wire in an Alvin lead holder; (R) 0.9mm diameter "dead soft" silver wire in an Alvin mechanical pencil.]

no art of imitation

[^ Sundown On the Marshes. Marmora, NJ.
watercolor on paper. approx. 12x15". January 2012.]

"If 'imitation' were to be understood as meaning exact reproduction or copy of reality, it would have to admitted that, apart from the art of the cartographer or the draughtsman of anatomical plates, there is no art of imitation. In that sense, and however deplorable his precepts may be in other respects, Gauguin, in maintaining that painters should give up painting what they saw, was formulating an elementary truth which the Masters have never ceased to practice. The imitative arts aim neither at copying the appearance of nature nor at depicting 'the ideal', but at making something beautiful by the display of a form with the help of visible symbols."
- Jacques Maritain, Art and Scholasticism, Ch. VII The Purity of Art, (1930)

There is a point during the creative process where you know something is working out. The image finds its place on the paper or canvas or whatever surface you are working on, telling you that you are on the right track, even despite things taking a course different than expected. Different, but not wrong. I think it may come from carrying an inner perception or understanding --- a familiarity --- with the thing you are trying to represent.

I grew up on the beaches and tidal flats of South Jersey and those long minutes wherein day loses all its strength and rolls up into the approaching dark are as familiar to me as anything in this world. The light, the quiet, even the air is just a certain way and there is a point when all the dark sits out there on the marshes. The sky goes all electric and the colors can hold you spellbound. To see it is to witness some manifestation of peace and fear.

a still life

[^ Still Life with Brown Bottle, Pale Blue Bottle, and Paperwhite Bulb. watercolor on T.H. Saunders 90 lb hot-press paper. 5 x 7". 2012.]

[^ Still Life with Blue Bottle, Pink Bottle, and Gourd. watercolor on Fabriano Uno watercolor paper. 9 x 12". 2012]

"There is no better subject than a still life for working out ideas about painting. It is the one subject that is completely under ones control; provided that the materials aren't perishable, it can be continued day after day under exactly similar conditions, and the arrangement and choice of subject are entirely up to you."
- Bernard Dunstan, Learning To Paint (Watson-Guptill Publications, 1970)

Wanting to take a break from landscape painting while holding to formal composition and representation, I returned to the opportunities and limitations of still life, which gave me the chance to put to use some old glass bottles I have collected. They have uneven surfaces, mottled patinas and signs of age and use --- scratches, chips, soiled interiors --- which create interesting effects that are extremely fun to work on incorporating in a painting and, I think, help add visual interest. I feel I have gotten more comfortable with painting shadows. They can be difficult, coming across as looking stiff and not part of the atmosphere. Shadows on orange-colored objects (like the gourd in the second painting) are always difficult for me but I think I got this one right. I've seen painters make the error of only using the complimentary color (blue), or a lot of black in the mixture, which is ruinous.

Still lifes provide the chance to set up an arrangement and work on it for an extended period of time, but I was able to work quickly, which helps prevent me from getting botched up in overworking effects. The smaller painting took less than an hour and the larger one I completed in one sitting except for some reworking of the blue bottle which was causing me some minor problems with the reflections and various angles.

topography and landscape

[^ Landscape with Warehouse. watercolor on T.H. Saunders 90 lb hot press paper. 5 x 7". December 2011.]

"Topography has been defined as the portraiture of places .... whether it be a group of mountains, a stretch of pastoral country, a street in a town, or a gentleman's country seat and will record its features for posterity. Landscape is the imaginative manipulation of natural features such as hills, trees, rivers, fields, clouds, and so forth, into a composition which will be aesthetically pleasing or otherwise impressive. The distinction is one of aim, and in theory it is sharply defined. In practice it is not always so easy to make. Both elements may exist in the same artist, even in the same drawing."
- Iolo A. Williams, Early English Watercolours (ch. 1), 1952

One of the real joys and advantages of watercolor painting is the ability to see results and work through to completion in a relatively short amount of time. It allows for immediacy and directness, with no long waits while layers of paint dry or "set up" as in most oil painting techniques (alla prima being the obvious exception), and no slow layering as in egg tempera. Watercolor allows constant and fast work that only acrylic can match, but with a surface quality I believe is superior for its elegance (apologies to you acrylic painters). Also, I am working within small dimensions which certainly speeds things up. The end result being that I am very happy making these small watercolor paintings depicting specific, recognizable places or vague, perhaps imaginary, impressions --- and sometimes these things merge, as you know --- in colors that can glow like jewels and subtly shift into murk and shadow.

I've been trying my hand at hot pressed watercolor papers, resisting my usual preference for cold pressed, and working through the angst and frustration that this surface causes. The disadvantages it creates can lead to some interesting results and makes me rethink my tendencies and habits with a medium I've learned much about over the past year or two.

it's always there

^ [Port Crane, Brooklyn, NY. watercolor on T.H. Saunders 90 lb cold pressed paper. 5x7". August 2011.]


^ [ Landscape of Shadow and Light. watercolor on T.H. Saunders 90 lb cold pressed paper. 5x7". November 2011.]

^ [Plein air study of New Jersey seen from Brooklyn. Oil on Art Board panel. 5x7". October 2011.]

^ [Plein air study of Brooklyn waterfront landscape. Oil on Art Board panel. 5x7". November 2011.]


"I learned that there's no such thing as a place without a motif for painting: it's always there, and sometimes you have to force yourself to find it instead of having it scream out at you."
- Richard Crozier, Inventing the Landscape: From plein air study to studio painting. Watson-Guptill Publications, 1989.

I have been making a pretty regular habit of plein air painting this summer and autumn, and have a growing amount work to show for it. I know that I am not up to the speed or level of practice that other, more experienced, outdoor painters are at. However, I am steadily gaining more skill at working directly from nature. The four pieces above are some of my efforts. Over the winter they may be the basis for other work. With Tracy's help, the portfolio is being narrowed down to about 15 images to be sent to galleries and to publishers in the hope of gaining freelance work. Both oil and egg tempera paintings will be included alongside watercolors and drawings.

inanimate things

^ [Heirloom Tomatoes. watercolor on Arches 140 lb cold pressed paper. 7 x 10". October 2011.]

^ [Red Cup, Gourd & Seed Pod. watercolor on T.H. Saunders 90 lb cold press paper. 5 x 7". October 2011.]


"By expressing himself through the image of inanimate things, the painter shows his art in all its power. For unless he deliberately charges these things with a symbolic meaning, still life provides no food for the spirit of anecdote. Nor is the painter himself helped out by the associations of ideas which are born of movement - in landscape they spring from the very image of a tree or a cloud - and which propose to the mind a semblance of action."
- Charles Sterling, Still Life Painting: From Antiquity to the Present Time (rev. ed., 1959)

I have had an easier time of it lately with painting and my efforts to tell what I see with a brush in my hand. For me, painting is both recording and interpreting, and it is always interesting to me how these seemingly contradictory approaches combine. I spent a number of hours painting the heirloom tomatoes (shown above), with a gradated saturation of high-keyed color and a birds-eye view which is unusual for me. The second painting, with the cup, was executed quickly and I was pleased with the effect of the contrast between this cheap red plastic cup alongside these natural, organic shapes. I am more comfortable working quickly than I used to be and am more confident putting down a color and leaving it undisturbed. Both methods - gradated washes and the immediate application of one color - are both important techniques that I've been trying to master. I'm slowly getting there.