Showing posts with label maestro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label maestro. Show all posts

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Florence Italy Figure Art

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
I have not decided whether it is because I have no shame or whether it is just because I am a horrible liar that I am about to share with you what I am. You may remember my blog post on 15 January 2012 about my struggles to learn how to figure paint here in Florence, Italy. I often feel like a bit of a fraud when kind people remark that creating figure art comes so natural to me. It does not. I work and work and work at it. No lie.

Despite the fact that after my first day of frustration and the next day Maestro John Angel gave me a compliment in front of the whole class, I am still trying to overcome my first bad day on this painting of Federica. John Angel does watch his students paint; even if he is standing far enough away that you think he is not looking at what you are doing. Of course, I also get lost in my own brain when I am drawing and am not much aware of my surroundings.

At some point, he recommended that the class do as I was doing – cross referencing relationships using triangles. I have always felt that the more relationships I make (or notice) between specific points, the more my drawing will be successful. In this case, I had used my knitting needle to determine the position of the hand based on the line formed by a point in the shoulder and the belly button… or something similar that escapes my memory now.

I have failed somehow to get the gesture I once was happy with and I have yet to return to that first drawing that I erased during my frustration spell. Still, with refinement of the shapes I am designing, I hope to “scootch” my way back to something depicting emotion.

So, are you ready? Scary gets less so, I hope…

Image 1: really horrifying … no gesture, bad proportions. The only emotion I feel when looking at this is embarrassment.


Image 2: I am attempting to get the face, but it is still too narrow and poorly done. Her belly is way too round, and … need I go on?


Image 3: Frustrated with my own work, I chose to move on through the process. Here I have left behind the sketching in raw umber in favor of adding the light tones using Titanium White and Ivory Black. I have started the Big Form Modeling, the beginning of the process of creating the illusion of three dimensions.


Image 4: More shape refining, especially in the face, is starting to occur. My figure is looking better, but is still off on too many proportions.


Image 5: Another reason that I am here is to learn to be a painter. As John Angel has been lecturing us, poets use words, musicians use notes, and painters are in love with shapes. But also, we love the quality of PAINT! My tendency is to use too little. Ironic since it was originally the “squishability” factor of oil paint that led me to want to play with clay.


Image 6: By this time, Frederica had cut her hair into a shorter do that is quite attractive. In my attempt to refine the shapes in the face and still use this particular style of a grisaille (white and black) painting with a brown shadow tone, I have added yellow ochre to my raw umber to give some opacity to the browns.


Image 7: Still, so many problems with my shapes! However, I am starting to feel that I am beginning to capture her emotion of at least boredom. Sometimes the model looks teary eyed. She said this happens when her contact lenses start to bother her, but I actually enjoy the sad and pensive expression this gives her. It suits the slumped over posture as well, do you not agree?


And since I prefer not to end this session with any ugliness, here is one of the more subtle skies over my beloved Florence, Italy. Some days, I happened to walk out of the studio at just the most beautiful hour! Enjoy.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

A Better Artist

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I have been struggling this week as I try to get adjusted to my new life here in Florence, Italy. I have returned to the Angel Academy of Art to finish what I started years ago -- learning to improve my understanding of painting, especially the chemistry of painting. I left three years ago because -- and I am embarrassed to admit this -- another student was making me very uncomfortable in school and I could not get it to stop. I decided to leave the school, postponing my own education until this person had finished and gone. It was not difficult since I needed to continue to grow my own art career anyway.

My work moved in a slightly different direction in this period and of course, when I was back in Texas, I focused on my stone and bronze sculpture. I recently told Maestro John Angel and Jered Woznicki (my instructors at Angel) that I was nervous about starting up again because -- to my shame -- I had not even done a life drawing for over a year and a half (except for one 3-hour session with a friend).

Sometimes it is difficult to learn something when you think you already know something about it.

Being aware of this, as well as having watched other older students come in and flounder with their egos a bit, I really wanted to do as Maestro John Angel suggested, “Relax and it will come.” I wanted to learn the process thoroughly and it was important to “get it” early on so that I could “own” it and then be free to learn about what comes next. This was my mindset as I began to paint the figure in front of me. We were to use a medium-sized house paintbrush and wash in a solid shape on our canvases that matched the gesture of the model. The idea was to think in terms of FORM and MASS vs. outlines.

Then we were to add the construct over our massed-in shape . . . simple lines that placed the parts of the figure (head, limbs, etc.) where they would ultimately go, without actually drawing those parts. This takes time because it is the foundation of the entire painting. It is not enough to have the proportions correct. One must find the energy in the piece at this early stage. Otherwise, no matter how technically proficient the painting is rendered, it will be dull.

Once you are happy with this, start to articulate those construct lines. This means that you will take a smaller brush and create the outer lines of the abstract shapes that will become the figure. For example, the leg has specific edges that show off various muscles and joints. These edges will all have their own slopes and lengths and will relate to all the other parts in a particular way. Once the articulation is done to satisfaction, the artist can then design the shadow shapes (vs. light shapes). This is the start of the tonal work that will define the masses.

I hope this makes sense. Anyway, I do not usually work quickly. I am horrible at measuring things since I have a sort of impatience about being that tight … or maybe organized. Try as I might, I rarely measure the same thing twice and arrive at the same number. (Is that not related to the famous quote about the “definition of insanity”?)

So, I was VERY surprised when I found myself happy with my proportions on the canvas! I could hardly believe my luck! I checked and cross-checked, comparing various widths and heights, even diagonals (since I see better in triangles), trying desperately to find a relationship between shapes that did not match those I saw in the model. I really wanted to make sure that I did each stage SEPARATELY and that I understood the process that I came here to learn. And I felt that I was doing things well. So, what was the problem?

I did not believe that I could do that. But then, during the model break, I looked at the works of the other students who had more experience at this than I do. And I was further along the process than they were. I have never been particularly competitive (except with myself) and thus, I do not look at the work of others in order to decide how my work compares. But in this case, I knew that some things take time and we work within a system. The teachers know how to pace the class, despite some students working at different speeds. I was too far ahead and I lost confidence.

When Maestro returned to the room, I asked him if it was too soon for me to be drawing the shadow shapes. He said, “Yes, you have done it wrong.” I wanted to argue, “But you have not even looked at my canvas and now you are on the other side of the studio!” But I rarely argue something if I know that I do not have all of the information. When I am drawing or creating in any medium, I am not often aware of what others are doing and where they are looking. How did I know whether or not he saw the work I was doing earlier?

Frustrated, I went back to my canvas and wiped out all of my lines, returning to the simple mass I had painted in the beginning. I thought that was the fastest way to let go of my ego and learn the process the right way. In hindsight, I wish that I had waited on that. Once the model was back in position, Maestro came over to my easel and described each step again. And I kid you not, I believed in every ounce of my entire body that I had done exactly as he demonstrated! Even the measurement points that he said I must consider were absolutely the same ones that I HAD considered and measured! Now, I really felt frustrated because he kept saying that I had done it wrong because no one gets it right on the first try. But for the life of me, I still had no clue where I took the wrong turn.

After class and close to tears (I HATE that about myself since it makes me look so weak when I long ago discovered that I must release that energy somehow and prefer it be in a peaceful manner), I again asked Maestro to tell me what I had done wrong. So then he said, “Constructs. You have never been good at making the constructs. No one gets that right on the first try.”

That night at home, a friend called to see how I was doing in school. I must admit that I got all worked up again as I relived my frustration. He cut me off with his hearty laugh. I was not amused. What’s he on about? He said, “You . . . struggle? If anyone would get it right the first time, it would be you!”

Hmmm. Now I knew that Maestro was right (sorry, Si). I had done it all wrong, but I would need to figure it out on my own. That meant that I needed to DO more … more constructs, in this case. In that instant, I had a flashback of the time that my friend Vasily Fedorouk yelled at me in front of our stone carving students. He apologized to me in private that night as we stood outside under the stars. But having understood where he was coming from and that, in effect, his gruffness showed his affection and passion for art, I told him that, “My grandmothers love everything (artwise) that I do. But they will never make me a better artist. You will, and so we are ok.” My friend is perhaps too often my cheerleader and I need to figure this stuff out.

The image below is of the first step in this painting process taught at Angel. [I still had corrections to make then.] Unfortunately, I could not document the other steps I did that day because my digital camera is dying. I really need to break down and do the research and get another camera quickly.


Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Leonardo da Vinci + San Gennaro Angel


Cari Amici,

This past Friday the 13th I attended a lecture on Leonardo da Vinci by the Maestro John Angel at the Angel Academy of Art in Florence, Italy. Perhaps it is horrible for me to say, but Leonardo has not interested me too much before. So I was a bit surprised at how much I enjoyed this lecture!

In his opening statements, I thought that the Maestro was brilliant to illustrate his basic premise with a recipe by Leonardo: that the most famous Renaissance man was curious and creative, but that his ideas rarely seemed to pan out.

This gesso sealant (for a painting canvas) recipe is written in one of Leonardo da Vinci’s manuscripts in Paris and is cited by Richter (R628):
One coat of mastic in white turps
Three coats of grappa (acqua vitae) and arsenic
One liberal coat of boiled linseed oil
One thick coat of white varnish, applied with a stick
When dry, wash the whole with urine.


I must say that the grappa and arsenic amused me, especially after seeing how some people drink here! As master painter John Angel pointed out, “Arsenic is not harmful to gesso, just pointless and very harmful to the painter.” But this type of thinking just might explain why Leonardo’s “Last Supper” (in Italian, “Il Cenacolo” or “L'Ultima Cena”) was already in need of repair during the artist’s own lifetime.

It was surprising to me that for such a famous artist who produced so few finished works, I saw several art pieces in John Angel’s lecture than I had never before seen. One that particularly caught my eye is one that the Maestro said that not everyone acknowledges as done by Leonardo. It is the “San Gennaro Angel” (pictured here), a sculpture in terra-cotta in a church in San Gennaro, just outside of Florence, Italy. The Maestro later e-mailed me for clarification:

“However, it looks like a Leonardo (based on the style of the drapery, etc.), and it seems unlikely that anybody else would have borrowed the style of a young unknown artist (at that point, nobody would have known his style). Its date fits with Verrocchio's Pistoia altarpiece, placing Leonardo in the area at that time (the late 1470s), and gelling with the need for him to get out of Florence for a time, in order to let the "backside game" scandal die down a bit. I have attached a jpg of the sculpture. It was proposed as a Leonardo in the 1990s, I think.”


“Playing the backside game” was how Leonardo referred to his penchant for 10-year-old boys. The scandal refers to the time that Leonardo, along with three others, was accused of sodomy. The charges were later dropped, perhaps because one of the other three was part of a rather powerful family.

Anyway, another point worth noting: It is strange that Leonardo da Vinci is so often referred to as a scientist, when he discovered no scientific principles. He is, however, a champion of the empirical method, preferring to collect his data from pure observation of nature vs. a manipulation of variables or basing his ideas off of the work of others.

Another story that I found a bit . . . non lo so . . . disturbing, curious, perhaps simply the yin yang of human behaviour? Anyway, apparently Leonardo became a familiar face in hospitals, entertaining and spending many hours with the old and the sick. And then, after they died, he would claim their bodies and dismember them for his personal anatomy studies.
And on that note, I am off to sleep . . .

Ciao, ciao, ragazzi!
Kelly

PS Many special thanks to Maestro Michael John Angel for the lecture and for taking time to respond to my e-mail asking for clarification on a few points. And for sending me this image of Leonardo’s sculpted angel. Here is a link to the Angel Academy of Art:
Maestro John Angel at the Angel Academy of Art

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Construction of a Painting


I started one of my “Naked Gondolier” series paintings this past Sunday. I am doing it in my spare time, whatever that actually means. Anyway, I used the drawing I did of “Mario” that I showed you recently in a previous blog entry as the step-off point. I like the idea of the light in a figure emerging from darkness.

However, I also wanted to imply the gondola, as well as a bridge. I mean, what else spells out Venice (Venezia) in bella Italia? I am not looking to create details, but I do want to elicit an emotional response to the romance of this city. So, I began my disegno, starting with line and a vague idea of three tonal values. I photographed my beginning and then, in Photoshop, started playing with various lighting effects.

Not happy with any one thing, I decided to just start painting. Sometimes these things have a way of speaking for themselves, you know. Yesterday, I asked the Maestro John Angel if he could give me some pointers. I felt lost because I liked the light under the bridge, but it might not work in this particular painting. I was not sure that I wanted the reflection of the bridge to alter the shape of the dark water on the left. And the list went on. I could see why artists do works in series – it becomes possible then to choose one element for each artwork and play with it. Too many notes being played at once only makes noise, not music.

Allora, I concluded my confession to the Maestro with a, “I think that I am trying to do too much with too little.” Tilting his head slightly and with a pensive hesitation, he responded, “You took the words right out of my mouth. But also, I think you are afraid to lose too much.”

Wow. He just summed up my life.

So, I will add the darks and get back to you.
Thanks for reading.