Painting Frocks (And Some Jackets)

Thurs 4th Feb

On thursday I began to tackle A Century Of Style , an exhibition I'd been to a couple of weeks ago at Kelvingrove. I was very taken by the exhibition, especially the mirror used so we could see right round the clothes, and thought they's be a good basis fr exploring space and composition as well as colour.

Two Frocks

Three Frocks

Masculine Red

These three paintings are the result and I am fairly pleased with them, but am aware they are a beginning - this is very much a theme I will be returning to later.

Inspired by Mackintosh

So the challenge of the day was to make work inspired/based on a particular artist - I chose Mackintosh, since he is such a local hero and his work is quite different from mine, loads of sharp edges and geometry as opposed to soft organic curves.

Relatively pleased with the results, learned a fair bit and the second painting's viewpoint is something I will develop into bigger paintings later on.

The Little Dancer

Degas is one of my art heroes and I knew as soon as I started this challenge I'd be including this little lady. I intend to do a whole series eventually, hopefully with her in various museums around the world, but to start with here she is in the Musee D'orsay.

(Rather enjoyed painted the little paintings in the background of the first paintings, and the man in the second - he really did have his feet in a very similar position to the statue! )

Colour Crazy

After painting The Red Wall I thought I'd continue the colour theme - I'm on a mission to use all the colours!

The Red Wall

Yesterday was a good day. The main aim of both these paintings was to explore mark making more and think about colour. Happy with the results!

Why Museums?

Why museums? Lots of reasons, not least that I have loads of photographs from The British Museum and The Louvre from when I was there in November. At that point I was thinking a lot about backgrounds and composition as well as wanting to learn more about how different people have imaginatively portrayed the human figure.

These are all things I want to explore and experiment with during the hundred days, along with thinking more about colur and mark making. Other advantages are that there are plenty of museums within easy travel distance for me to get new reference material (particularly looking forward to The Burrell Collection) and that there is a very wide range of possible subject matter, allowing me to explore a sorts of colour combinations and compositions.

However, there are limitations - working only from photographs, not controlling the light or the arrangement of objects. In some ways though these are freedoms - building a database of photos to work from is time consuming but can be done when otherwise tired and means that getting started in the studio is fairly painless. Not having control over the subject matter's arrangement or lighting means I have to concentrate more on composition and colour.

But the main reason is that I just really like being in museums. The only other type of place I maybe like as much (apart from the studio) are bookshops. Take me to a beautiful, awe inspiring landscape and I'm pretty bored. Take me to a museum, and I could be there for days - looking at the exhibits, drawing the exhibits, watching the people, having a glass of something and cake . . . they are like a little world apart, parallel to normal life, each one different and yet the same as all the others. Heaven!

Palazzo Massimo

The photographs kinda speak for themselves - the Palazzo Massimo is beautiful.

On the top floor is Livia's room, along with other frescoes roman houses - one of which may be Agrippa's and although less stunningly breathtakingl is still quite amazing.

There are stunning mosaics, in black and white and colour, of geometrics and fanciful scenes.

Further down are statues of a quality much higher than I expected from all the "roman statues are just poor copies of the greek" stuff you read in art history books - the portraits are particularly fine and interesting.

A trip much recommended - especially as the place is lovely and cool, without all the crowds you can get in some over museums (yes, Galleria Borghese, I'm looking at you!).

Roma Day 2 - Barberini Palace

Day 2 I spent in palaces - the Barbarini , the Spada and the Corsini.

All three of them are lovely buildings - the Barberini has famous stairs, as well as a guard cat, but I think it would be the Corsini I would like to live in the most - the views looking up to woods is lovely. However, I presume the garden at the Spada down towards the Tiber must have been rather great, too - but the whole place was much pockier than the other two.

All three had lots of paintings. Lots and lots, crammed all together, mainly of saints wringing their hands/being killed or Magdalenes repenting with bare bosoms. Not to my taste but as I've said before, looking at second rate paintings can be very useful in my own painting - they are much easier to analyse as to what works and what doesn't, and why - for example, I saw two St.Francis's by Caravaggio - one in the Barberini, one at the Capuchin Crypt - and I felt that the Barberini one was preferable - it is less sharp, has more humanity and mystery to it - and was pleased to note that the scientists agree. And this is something I need to remember when painting - lack of definition can be a good thing (his hands, for example, have a clearer junction between the fingers in the copy than in the original.)

If you can only go to one of these places, choose the Barberini. The Corsini was nice, had some lovely stuff including one of Rubens heads, but the Barberini has a nice Caravaggio or two. As well as few more stunners - and I never got to see floor 2, so there may well be even more than I saw.

Roma Day 1 - Capitoline Museum

And finally I've arrived.

Pretty knackered after all that hanging about airports (it was a ten hour journey from my house to the hotel) so decided to go wandering towards the Capitoline Museum . The walk was shorter than I expected - seems the center of Rome really isn't very big - so I got to enjoy a couple of hours there. It was very quiet, especially up with the paintings, which was great for me as I could get very close and really peer at them - something the guards (who were both more stylish and more numerous than the tourists) seemed quite happy for me to do. The selection is limited and almost all bible themed but getting a close look at a maybe Velazquez partially finished self portrait and an early Caravaggio alone would have made the trip worthwhile. Was also very taken with the dragon in Giovanni Girolamo Savoldo's Portrait of a Woman - a very early photo bomb?

The Ghost Mirror

A days painting - and there are still little touches to do, thin lines etcetera which will have to wait for the paint to dry again.

But it is very close to done and once again not quite what I wanted. Why not will niggle and niggle at me until I find an answer - probably in a future painting. Guess that's what keeps us going - if I could paint the perfect painting, would I stop?

Before I went I knew I'd be tacking photographs for reference, but did not expect Enki Bilal's The Ghosts of the Louvre exhibition.

The Louvre's ghosts seem particularly near to me, too. Odd, when I live in building that is over a hundred years old. But something about the building as well as the objects now on display brings to mind all those past lives. D'Artagnan, Napoleon, royalty, revolutionaries and artists (amongst others) have all walked these same stairs and maybe paused to look in this mirror. Even film makers have been here, with Goddard setting his threesome runnning through the place in Bande a Part. We could spend all day summarising the works of fiction set at least partially in the place. The list of famous people that have visited is even longer . . .

Some of the ghosts are of the makers rather than visitors - Leonardo coming to die, bringing with him what would become the most famous of all paintings. Rubens painting incredibly skillful and rather boring wallpaper for Marie de Medici. Gericault's frustration at the (initial) rejection of the Raft of the Medusa, echoed later with the Impressionists and Manet's Olympia. Degas drawing Mary Cassatt looking at the works. For some reason I feel the friendly presence of all the creators here more than in other gallery I've been in - maybe partly because I know that most of them would also have stood and admired other's work in much the same place and manner as I do.

And then there is the ghost of me. When I was thirteen and first visited the place, probably as bored as the teenagers lurking around the Nike are today. Sixteen, appreciating both the art and the foreign totty. A big jump to mid twenties and just beginning to awaken again to art making. A couple of years ago, just having started using oils, and eager to see what is possible. Now, when I am more focused in my appreciation and thinking about creating art of my own out of the place.

And so it goes on.

More Reflections in the Louvre

More work on the Louvre painting today - a struggle, as the paint wasn't entirely dry so all I could do was vaguely put in some colour and strengthen the tones. Now I will wait for the paint to dry and with a bit of luck there is enough there that I can finish this in one more session.

What I am aiming for is there to be subtle variations of colour within the larger blocks of tone - this should give a balance to the high contrast, brightly coloured area down in the left hand corner.

Against this also is me - almost insignificant amongst the beautiful ancient artifacts in the cases, the lovely Paris building seen in reflection and, of course, the grandeur of the Louvre building itself.

Reflections in the Louvre

The last full day in Paris was spent in the Louvre - I was there at nine for the doors opening, and had permission from my husband to stay until closing time.

The place is huge. Mega huge. By four I had seen all the paintings and a few other things on the way past but was absolutely knackered, brain fatigued, and decided to leave. So once again I missed out whole sections - most sculptures, decorative arts and historical areas.

But what I did manage to see! Between here and the other galleries I have visited I really feel I have seen the whole history of painting in a few days. My sketchbook is full of notes, ready to be worked on now I'm back home. But one of the interesting things for me was a clarification of the kind of art I like - simple, often people based, colourful. Big set pieces like in the Rubens room, for example, leave me utterly cold.

One of the ideas I had before going was of using the building in some way as a subject for paintings. So I took my camera - and many, many pictures were taken. All of windows, doors and chairs. The guards were giving me funny looks - but a "je suis artiste" got them nodding!

This is the start of my first painting on the theme - a kind of self portrait, reflected in a very grand mirror which also shows the buildings of Paris behind me. There are also a couple of cases of stuff, which will be clearer later.

Fernand Pelez - Grimaces et Misere

After the Musee D'Orsay and the Orangerie, I went to the Petit Palais. It is a lovely place, empty apart from me, the guards, and a group of primary school kids (who were being taught about the different supports you can paint on. They were about six years old!). The building itself is lovely, with huge ceiling decorations, a japanese garden and cafe as well as a wide ranging collection of artworks.

It has a fascinating (big) room full of portraits painted around 1900 - the stuff that is generally considered a bit boring, but very inspiring and useful to us painters.

But the highlight for me was the above painting. It stopped me in my tracks. It has been quite while since that has happened - partly as I have read a lot of art books, so most things I have seen before. This I never have.

Nor have I heard of Fernand Pelez and judging by his wikipedia page, few other people have, either. His other couple of paintings on show, although well painted, were not as strong - but I will be looking out for his work again.

(Have a look at the google images here for some more close-up looks. Totally worth it.

"

The Orangerie and the Waterlilies

After the Musee D'Orsay, I went to the Orangerie, where I sat with Monet's Waterlilies for quite some time.

While there, I thought of death and war.

This may seem odd, but I have developed something of an obsession with Monet over the last year, since I have started painting landscapes myself. So I know a little of the history of these paintings and that they were installed in 1922. They were donated by Monet as a monument to World War 1.

They are both incredibly sad and joyful. Life goes on. This too shall pass. Light and darkness co-exist. The willows weep, the clouds pass, the lilies float.

All created by a man in his 80's.

In Praise Of Lautrec's Bed

This is Henri Toulouse-Lautrec's "In Bed", as the Musee D'Orsay calls it.

Since I first saw it (at around 14) this has easily been one of my favourite artworks. Well into the top five. So I went and paid my respects, much as I do to the Botticelli Mars and Venus every time I am in London.

Being in love with a painting is as mysterious as love of anything else, but I will have a go at explaining why I think this is so great.

Firstly, it is fresh in technique, composition and subject matter. Previously I have said that I think originality in painting is over-rated, but a new vision has a place - Lautrec painted what he saw around him (like the Impressionists before him) but the world he created for himself had not been considered a fit subject for painting before. This world has been a favourite of teenagers (who identify with those on the outskirts of society) ever since.

His compositions and colours are unlike those of official art and work hard at looking careless and unposed - a stratagem that is aided, oddly, by the artificial poses that his performers like to strike. This one, however, comes across as a snap-shot - despite taking half an hour minimum to paint (and likely much, much longer) as well s working in various compositional techniques, such as the placement of the center of interest. Much of it is very sketchy - but like all truly great works, nothing could be added or subtracted without lessening the work.

It is nothing less than a painting of love - any two people who have this kind of connection are among the blessed. Here is sex, trust, honesty, familiarity, warmth, joy - all from one and a bit faces and a crumpled bed!

There is ambiguity, too - are they two women, two men, one of each? I don't care and do not think it matters.

Paris Again

This time of year is horrid - so dark and grey, so many competitions coming up I don't have good enough paintings for.

So this year I have decided to go back to Paris.

Paris is fab. I loved it as a teenager (and loved even more having "Paris bought" clothes), loved it as the first holiday my husband and I took together over ten years ago, loved it on honeymoon (when it was 37 degrees most of the time - far too hot for us freckly blonds), when we sat about in the Luxembourg Gardens and watched both the fish and the french

I have even loved it on the very occasioal day trip over on the channel tunnel from London, where I've packed in a visit both to the D'orsay and the Louvre.

This time the plan is to go to lots of museums - the above two, of course, but also the Pompidou (where I've never been), the Orangerie, the Petit Palais and the commercial galleries.

So with luck, an increase in knowledge.

And some lazing about, watching the world go by.

The Little Mermaid and The Frick

Also recently finished (maybe) is this one, which has also gone through many stages since it was begun back in Vytlacil. She is based on photographs I took of what appeared to be a model shoot at the Staten Island Ferry terminal. There was something about the light that was just magical as well, of course, of all the effort that had clearly been put into her clothes, make-up and so on.

Later that day I visited the Frick, which I heartily recommend for anyone interested in paintings of people. They have an amazing collection of first class paintings that span from Holbein's Thomas Cromwell to fine Degas , hitting various high points along the way. Almost all of the paintings are not only by great painters but are among the best of their works - the Raeburn's , for example, are top notch, which is quite impressive. Having such great works in close proximity makes it very easy to compare and contrast and try to have deep thoughts. There isn't the scope of the Metropolitan, especially as almost all paintings are portraits. This is, of course, also a strength.

So, after seeing all these three-quarter length portraits I wanted to have a go myself - and this is the result. She started out much darker but seemed to become more mermaid-like as she progressed. I had gone on the ferry as I was missing the water (having grown up by the seaside and having a view of the Kelvin from my front window) and every time I started painting it took me back to the pleasure of the ride, the mystery of the sea and rivers, and the unfathomableness of what goes on behind another person's eyes.

Ribera's Hands at the Brooklyn Museum

One friday I went paddling up the beach from Coney Island to Brighton Beach, ate some fab russian pastries then took the train back to Brooklyn Museum.

Despite a woefully rubbish cafe, I enjoyed my visit here, although I didn't bother with any of the trendy, modern stuff. Instead I spent ages looking at second rate paintings, with a few first class paintings thrown in. At my stage of learning this can be very useful - they are, of course, still way beyond me, but tend to show the workings and give me use-able ideas. Masterpieces are great to look at, very inspiring, but often difficult to assess for help in how to paint. It can be hard to use the critical mind when your jaw is hitting the floor . . .

These photo's are of Ribera's painting of St Joseph of the Flowering Rod. Seeing these hands were a jaw-dropping moment, although I can't saw I am too keen on the whole thing - Ribera for me is a first class painter but his subject matter can make him a little hard to love. But look at these hands.

I'd hoped that the photo's might help me show how to paint skin better, but I think that they are just going to be reminders of how important hands can be, and of how much distance there is between my paintings and a class act such as Ribera.

More NYC Museums

Yesterday I learnt that Americans call all places that sell artwork Art Galleries, and all places that show art but don't sell it Museums. Just one of the many little misunderstandings I am having with people - it is really making me wonder how much of my blog is readable by non-scots, and how much of other people's blogs I am really understanding. Huh, as New Yorkers seem keen an saying. Anyway, I've been wandering around a few of these museums - MoMA, where this marvelous goat statue by Picasso lives in a lovely little outdoor space. Unfortunately I was generally underwhelmed by the place - I was expected tons of abstract expressionist works, lots of people I'd never heard of, and a better understanding of abstract art as practised in America. But no. What you have is like a mini Tate Modern, with the impressionist/post impressionist bit of the National Gallery added on. Oh well.

So I went to the Guggenheim. Half of which, it turns out, was closed. But again, the strength seemed to be with the post-impressionists. Still, I had fun drawing the inside of the building, and lots of legs of folks appreciating these big torn metal sculptures. Then I thought I'd have something substantial and warm to eat, so ordered the fixed price menu of a sandwich, chips and a glass of wine. OK, I thought, chips and a sandwich seems a strange combination, but I'm in a foreign country so I should try and eat what the locals do. Except I had forgotten that what they call chips here are crisps. Duh. Still, the sandwich was nice, as were the wine and the crisps, and I had another go at drawing the building, this time with a little bit of Central Park thrown in.

Exploring the Metropolitan

The Metropolitan Museum is huge. I knew this, but it really didn't prepare me for the reality of just how huge. Think the National Gallery and Tate Britain and The British Museum all added together.

So far I have been twice and am planning on going back at least another couple of times - although I wandered around the Impressionist section (so many Degas! Heaven!) I was too tired to really pay attention (like you can sorta see from my sketch I was in the American wing).

This wing is interesting and I particularly liked the storage area, which has rows of paintings hung vertically in glass containers. What was particularly good was that you could get real close to the paintings and the area was deserted - enabling a very good gander at how the paintings had been painted. Invaluable. In that section there was, of course, lots of stuff other than paintings - including this statue. (Sorry no scanner presently, so all pictures photos - hence much darker and less clear than normal)