Monday, November 30, 2020

Catch and release

 

Every time I visit VanDusen Garden, I can't resist taking a photo of one of my favourite denizens -- "Net Hauler".  Against all odds, he keeps trying with all his might to bring  in something more than the Garden's large carp.  And if he landed something? -- surely he'd open his net and let it go, for the sheer reward of doing his stuff once again.

 

As November got under way, I noted how swimmingly things have gone with "The Zodiac Cafe."  We were way ahead of schedule by the Zodiacal Calendar, which runs mid-March to mid-march, Aries through Pisces.   So I decided to take my time with Pisces and do a few studies using different start-up techniques suggested by several different artist-teachers.

 

First, here's Manly P. Hall's description of the characteristics of the Pisces native:

"Head broad, complexion pale; eyes light; neck short; hair dark; lips full or well-shaped; body heavy; shoulders stooped; walk unsteady; rather unhealthy appearance."

Think "fish" -- Pisces' symbol -- and this makes a kind of sense.  But just as I omitted "defective teeth" from my Aquarius portrait, there was no way I was going to aim for "rather unhealthy appearance."  The description reminded me somewhat of two real people -- the sweet-natured anatomy instructor in my on-line art course and the sweet-natured guy across the street who mows my strip of front lawn in the summer.  My previous quick study of the neighbour guy is shown beside a screen shot of the anatomy guy.

 


Determined to take time experimenting, I decided I'd begin my Pisces studies with the grisaille technique -- a time-honoured Shades of Grey approach that many contemporary realist oil painters use as their first layer.  Here's my Experiment #1, which had accumulated two greys by the time I shot the photo.

  

  

Despite much effort to bring the study to a kind of completion, it wasn't very satisfactory.  So, onward to a different artist who starts his grisaille with an absolute black/white delineation down the centre of the face.

 



Again, I took this to grey completion -- but neither of the finalists qualified for Catch of the Day.

 

 

Okay, it was time to summon the spirit of Mary Beth McKenzie, my revered teacher from the first time I read and then acquired her 1987 book, "A Painterly Approach."  She begins with a careful linear underpinning, and those bones are always evident in her finished painting

 

Here's an early stage of my "Pisces."

 



 And this shows how I moved along adding colour.

 



Verdict:  BOR-ing.  But there was a funny thing about this -- the face had begun to resemble Christophe, another sweet-faced guy, one of the session managers at the life drawing studio who took such pleasure in applauding the good stuff in each person's efforts.

 

I hemmed and hawed.  With this painting, I'd be at the end of the Zodiac portraits, and this was not much of  a finale.  As I considered next steps I thought, "Oh, I so miss something with PATTERN."   A lightbulb moment!   Christophe wears glasses -- so why not plunk some on his nose, jazz up his shirt, and let him sit against a crazy wallpaper -- with the whole representing a fishy environment?  Quick -- to the drawing board to turn out some templates.

 



And here he is -- at least he's not grey and boring.  ("The Zodiac Cafe - Pisces" copyright 2020)

 



I guess I learned a fair bit in this School of Fishes...even with the ones that got away.  Maybe the biggest lesson was remembering a quote I read long ago:

"Chance is always powerful.  Let your hook be always cast.  In the pool where you least expect it, there will be fish"
This counsel from Ovid came my way decades ago, before my lifelong friend AH rolled up her sleeves to master Latin and eventually ancient Greek.  Obviously, it's about chance (hey! that makes me think of a Schipperke pup I know).  But it's also about constantly doing the hard work to prepare yourself to be ready for chance when it comes.

 

And two of my "catches" gave me mega-goosebumps:-- In searching for links, I came across Irish Music to accompany "The Tale of the Fisherman."  You **MUST** turn your volume to half-strength, click on the link, click on "Show more," and scroll down just a bit to read the fisherman's tale.

 

As if that weren't enough in the goosebumps department, I learned...just by chance...that Mary Beth McKenzie, who teaches at NYC's revered Art Students' League, is offering on-line classes.  Better get my nets mended and my hooks baited!

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday, November 15, 2020

"Chop wood, carry water"

 

 

 



Whatever heals and soothes the spirit -- these days we need it in abundance.  As I've worked in my end-of-season garden, clipping and chopping overgrown shrubs and rampant bamboo, I've thought about the timely appearance of Aquarius, the Water Bearer, at the Zodiac Cafe. 

 

As I reflected on how nourishing are both water (consumed or observed) and physical effort, I remembered the Zen expression "Chop wood, carry water," which I first learned from the original "Tassajara Bread Book" of the 7os.  I have a couple of friends who have taken bread-baking and fine cooking to a celestial level -- and I can only believe that when they're engaged in their art, a positive energy is flowing. 

 

The original Water-Bearer of myth was male -- with not a very wholesome story -- but my own Zodiac Cafe sequence called for a female; someone who would embody Manly P. Hall's description of the sign's characteristics:--

 

"Head broad, eyes expressive and widely set; complexion good; teeth defective; hair grays early, mouth and chin attractive; considerable physical beauty; vivacious."

 

Defective teeth?  I think not!   Another mask might be required, as it was for Sagittarius.

 

For preliminaries, I auditioned some possibilities ....

 



...and then whipped up some I.D. for entry to the Cardboard Club. (a wonderful use for cardboard scraps and leftover paint).

 



When I got serious on canvas, I thought I was off to a good start -- until I reached a point where I realized her eyes were out of whack.  As I went back and forth, painting them out, painting them back in, I was reminded of "Serious Art Fails" -- which I've referenced before under similar circumstances.

 



I finally decided I'd done the best I could with quite a serene-looking Aquarian, untroubled by her greying hair.

 



 

And then I ran off to VanDusen Garden  to feel soothed and refreshed by the real thing.