Late Afternoon

Late Afternoon

16 x 20 inches, oil on canvas panel, 2015. 

I can’t say I know if I’ll be up to posting regularly.  I wanted to let that last post sink in for a while anyway.  Today I have something less heavy.  This is the completed easel painting derived from the Oak and Hickory sketch I posted a while ago.  I changed the time of day and elaborated detail a lot more.  I had to add some more dappled light, too. 

I am aware that some people might fault the composition.  It would be more conventional to move the trees to the edges as repoussoir (don’t know how to make that plural – I studied Spanish and Italian, not French) and leave the center open for the viewer to walk into.  But I want the leaves to whack you in the face so you notice the detail.  Sometimes people are inclined to dismiss landscapes if they are arranged too typically.  If you want to go over by the fence you may still walk around the trees.  It’s experimental. 

As always, please take notice of the colors, textures, patterns, and details afforded by my realism.  I didn’t exaggerate color that much…at least I don’t think I did.  I enjoyed painting in the little butterfly vignette. 

"For I Will Rise Up Against Them, Saith the Lord"

“For the LORD will have mercy on Jacob, and will yet choose Israel, and set them in their own land: and the strangers shall be joined with them, and they shall cleave to the house of Jacob.

And the people shall take them, and bring them to their place: and the house of Israel shall possess them in the land of the LORD for servants and handmaids: and they shall take them captives, whose captives they were; and they shall rule over their oppressors.

And it shall come to pass in the day that the LORD shall give thee rest from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, and from the hard bondage wherein thou wast made to serve,

That thou shalt take up this proverb against the king of Babylon, and say, How hath the oppressor ceased! the golden city ceased!

The LORD hath broken the staff of the wicked, and the sceptre of the rulers.

He who smote the people in wrath with a continual stroke, he that ruled the nations in anger, is persecuted, and none hindereth.

The whole earth is at rest, and is quiet: they break forth into singing.

Yea, the fir trees rejoice at thee, and the cedars of Lebanon, saying, Since thou art laid down, no feller is come up against us.

Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming: it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the earth; it hath raised up from their thrones all the kings of the nations.

All they shall speak and say unto thee, Art thou also become weak as we? art thou become like unto us?

Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols: the worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover thee.

How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!

For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north:

I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High.

Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit.

They that see thee shall narrowly look upon thee, and consider thee, saying, Is this the man that made the earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms;

That made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof; that opened not the house of his prisoners?

All the kings of the nations, even all of them, lie in glory, every one in his own house.

But thou art cast out of thy grave like an abominable branch, and as the raiment of those that are slain, thrust through with a sword, that go down to the stones of the pit; as a carcase trodden under feet.

Thou shalt not be joined with them in burial, because thou hast destroyed thy land, and slain thy people: the seed of evildoers shall never be renowned.

Prepare slaughter for his children for the iniquity of their fathers; that they do not rise, nor possess the land, nor fill the face of the world with cities.

For I will rise up against them, saith the LORD of hosts,

and cut off from Babylon the name, and remnant, and son, and nephew, saith the LORD.

I will also make it a possession for the bittern, and pools of water: and I will sweep it with the besom of destruction, saith the LORD of hosts.

The LORD of hosts hath sworn, saying, Surely as I have thought, so shall it come to pass; and as I have purposed, so shall it stand:

That I will break the Assyrian in my land, and upon my mountains tread him under foot: then shall his yoke depart from off them, and his burden depart from off their shoulders.

This is the purpose that is purposed upon the whole earth: and this is the hand that is stretched out upon all the nations.

For the LORD of hosts hath purposed, and who shall disannul it? and his hand is stretched out, and who shall turn it back?”

This painting depicts Isaiah 14.  I was very reluctant to undertake this as I do not feel my current skill is worthy (nor shall it ever be for such a subject), but the Lord laid it on my heart to do so now.  Some liberties were taken for the sake of expression and clarity.  I think its kind of realism has that Early Renaissance earnestness and Romantic spirit, even if it lacks the stronger naturalism of the French Academy.  This painting is much more important than any other I have shared with you up to this point.  May it encourage my brother and sister Christians. 

The painting is divided into two halves.  In the upper register, the heavens open and surround Christ with light.  Dramatic clouds billowing from the desolations below dim the light of the moon and render its light the color of blood.  Christ stands in a resplendently glowing cloud; His clothes whiter than any fuller on earth can make them. 

The Lord looks down with utter disgust upon the Adversary who tormented His children night and day for millennia.  His leg is moved forward as He finally stands up in judgement.  His left hand is clenched in rage and His arm is pulled back slightly in a gesture of pity withdrawn:

"For I will rise up against them,
saith the Lord"

I couldn’t resist a little
quote from Church…that
is, the other kind of Church.

“I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death: O death, I will be thy plagues; O grave, I will be thy destruction: repentance shall be hid from mine eyes.”

Christ forcefully thrusts His right arm downwards in condemnation.  In Michelangelo’s Last Judgement, Christ’s right arm is raised in the moment before the verdict is delivered.  Here the Day of the Lord is come: the judgement is underway.  The arm that stretched out the heavens, that divided the sea, the arm that the plagues followed behind, is now directed at Lucifer. 

"The LORD hath broken the staff of the wicked, and the sceptre of the rulers.
He who smote the people in wrath with a continual stroke,
he that ruled the nations in anger, is persecuted,
and none hindereth."

In the lower register, the Arch-Fiend plummets to his eternal reward in hell.  The force of the Lord’s rebuke has broken his pitchfork and sent him twisting backward, his black cape trailing behind him.  The Fiend’s right wing has caught fire from its proximity to hell beneath.  His right arm, which just moments before was clutching his pitchfork still dripping with the blood of the saints, gestures upwards.  Perhaps he begs for a little sympathy.  Or maybe he’s just trying grab ahold of someone to bring down with him.  The Enemy of our Souls is thrust through with a flaming sword with a Cross-shaped hilt which he vainly tries to pull out.  This is a death blow, as Christ’s Sacrifice permanently redeemed His servants from the clutches of Satan.  The prince of this world is judged.  His fate is sealed.  Now that Old Serpent is rewarded for his ambitions against the Lord and the abuse of His beloved.

“Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.”

“He that leadeth into captivity shall go into captivity: he that killeth with the sword must be killed with the sword.”

The Adversary’s face is contorted in a mixture of anger, fear, confusion, and torment.  Forced to finally confront his long-time-coming punishment, he is utterly powerless, helpless, hopeless.  Of course the Devil never goes down without a fight, and he struggles, but it’s not like he can really do anything to escape. 

"...he that killeth with the sword
must be killed with the sword."

His person was modeled on the Augustus of Primaporta, the sculpture of the man who represented Rome, the nation that, like Lucifer, sought to replace God with itself.  It was for the refusal of Rome’s imperial cult and its other idolatries that my brothers and sisters were persecuted.  And upon rehashings of that principle of idolatry throughout history have we continued to be persecuted.  Therefore that statue is a fitting model for the Father of Lies.  The decoration of his armor in the painting is a simplified scene of the Serpent and Eve flanking the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. 

Christ actively rises against the Prince of Darkness.  The verse “For I will rise against them, saith the LORD” is absolutely bloodcurdling.  He who made the heaven and the earth and all the universe with a word, He who makes all the nations look like a drop in the bucket, He who conquered death itself, is personally rising up against them?  Jesus is far more terrifying and powerful than any devil.  Satan and all his allies don’t have a chance in hell. 

“Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the lawful captive delivered? But thus saith the LORD, Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken away, and the prey of the terrible shall be delivered: for I will contend with him that contendeth with thee, and I will save thy children. And I will feed them that oppress thee with their own flesh; and they shall be drunken with their own blood, as with sweet wine: and all flesh shall know that I the LORD am thy Saviour and thy Redeemer, the mighty One of Jacob.”

So praise Jesus, who has chosen His children over the Devil.  He will not leave us in the teeth of the oppressor indefinitely but He will rise up against him.  That's the thing about Christianity -- we don't raise a finger against anybody but let God fight our battles.  May God be glorified.  God bless!

The Covenant of the Day and of the Night

The Covenant of the Day and of the Night

Oil on paperboard, 6 x 10, December 25, 2014

“Thus saith the LORD; If ye can break my covenant of the day, and my covenant of the night, and that there should not be day and night in their season; Then may also my covenant be broken with David my servant, that he should not have a son to reign upon his throne; and with the Levites the priests, my ministers. As the host of heaven cannot be numbered, neither the sand of the sea measured: so will I multiply the seed of David my servant, and the Levites that minister unto me.  Moreover the word of the LORD came to Jeremiah, saying, Considerest thou not what this people have spoken, saying, The two families which the LORD hath chosen, he hath even cast them off? thus they have despised my people, that they should be no more a nation before them.  Thus saith the LORD; If my covenant be not with day and night, and if I have not appointed the ordinances of heaven and earth; Then will I cast away the seed of Jacob, and David my servant, so that I will not take any of his seed to be rulers over the seed of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob: for I will cause their captivity to return, and have mercy on them.”

Jeremiah 33: 20-26

Praise God: there are some things mankind just can’t screw up! 

I think this is my best work so far in sentiment.  I’ve done things more realistic, things more detailed, things bigger, things with better technique, things that took longer, but this is the most pleasing to me in feeling.  Artists often perplex others with what they consider their best work: Church left a number of people today scratching their heads because he said he considered Jerusalem to be his best.  So perhaps people will be confused when I say this is my best.  It has all the touching romantic spirit to it that I strive for.  For me the art is in the feeling.

I had the above verses in mind while painting this.  But I know a number of other subjects can be read into this, and each one is powerful.  It can be any of the Prophets of old.  It can be John the Baptist in the wilderness.  It can be the days of the Lord’s tempting.  When I look at it, I recall the Lord’s promises, that there are just some things that are dependent only upon Him.

Salvation is one of those things.  If you acknowledge you are a sinner, repent of your sins and acknowledge you cannot in any way save yourself, and if you believe that Jesus Christ suffered, was crucified, died and was buried, and resurrected to pay for your sins, and you accept Christ as your personal savior, then you have salvation.  All past, present and future sins are forgiven, and your salvation is as eternal as God Himself.  So praise God: there are just some things we cannot screw up!

Oak and Hickory

Oak and Hickory

Oil on paper mounted on panel, 9 x 12, Summer 2015.

I do apologize for the long absence.  I’ve been quite busy in painting and other matters, and this blog will probably be updated somewhat erratically for a while. 

Actually, I’m not sure if that tree on the right was a hickory now.  Whatever.  I think this was the most remarkable plein air work I produced last summer.  Of course, like almost all my plein air works, I thought it was a miserable failure until I no longer had nature in front of me to compare it to.  This was a three hour session on one very hot day in Elon, NC.  I was working with the Ridner medium in my paint.  As the medium contains wax and is very temperature-sensitive, it puddled at first, but somehow it did not seem inclined to run when on the support.  There was only a small war for me to fight with the fire ants this time (ants seem to be drawn to terre verte on my palette for some reason), as I had placed a cup with the residue of a sugary drink a few feet away from me as a decoy.  So I could really focus, with the help of God. 

I got some really lovely impasto and brushwork for the leaves, and some beautiful contrasts of color.  I think it’s gem-like.  The dappled light was an afterthought added in the last fifteen minutes when the position of the sun changed.  I’m somewhat regretful I didn’t put some light on the right tree, too, but it just wasn’t there in life, and I didn’t want to mess with success without a reference.  That black butterfly was around for the full three hours, but I only added it at the end. 

I was so pleased with this oil study, and it does qualify as a study rather than a sketch (this is HRS terminology in case any layman is reading), I made a 16 x 20 studio picture based on it a few months later.  

Some Botanical Studies

The first is an intimate study of I think a sprig of a willow oak(?) and other things in a garden. This was from several years ago when I first started doing plein air work in oils. I was using a prototype sketch box, couldn't find a good medium for my purposes, was in the early days of experimenting with my supports, and was totally at a loss for how to get the effects I wanted in a short period of time. This was on foamboard sealed with acrylic gesso. I had issues with bleeding and therefore tried something else for my next sketch. Keep at things with faith and you will eventually succeed, with the help of God.

The next are some works done a few years later on paperboard sealed with glue.  The glue allows the underlying color of the paper to show through, though it always warped it badly (you can de-warp small papers like these usually with an equivalent coat of glue on the other side, and also with some time under weight if all else fails), and was too absorbent to be pleasant to work upon. 

This one was done on glue sealed bristol paper.  If I recall, this is a rare example of me using pure oil and pigment paint, though I believe I added an oil and wax medium selectively to a few colors that session.  It's too hard to get a brushstroke that doesn't fray at the edges without resin, and also the impasto is a little too sharp, and detailing wet-into-wet is hindered with pure oil and pigment paint.  Hence I believe there were resin mediums in use by the Hudson River School artists (plus we have textual evidence they were as well). 

The last is also on glue-sealed paper.  I was using my first formulation of the Ridner medium, which contained too little wax as I misread the proportions (I think it might have been a little short on resin, too), but it was still very usable.  I wanted to see how close I could come to painting every leaf.  I failed miserably, but it doesn’t look so bad without nature in front of me to compare it to.  It is satisfying for its brushwork, anyway.  There’s a long history of artists applying leaves as raised brushstrokes – the Hudson River School didn’t start that practice.  

Willow and Reeds

Willow and Reeds

Oil on paper mounted on panel, 9 x 12, Summer 2015.

Oh, I remember this one.  Every artist has a number of plein air horror stories, and this is one of them.  I was happy when I found a bench to work on angled towards a picturesque view.  I got my palette set, strapped my sketch box to my lap, did my drawing, and began working.  About fifteen minutes in, one of those green flies (the type the size of a house fly) started biting me on my ankles.  So I shook it off and continue.  Then I felt a few more bites and saw more flies.  The minor annoyance started to become very unpleasant.  I shook them off, and did my best to swat them, with my box on my lap making it difficult, but there were too many to stop all of them.  At that point the bites started becoming more painful, like an acute, but lasting stab, not unlike the feeling of having a needle driven into the flesh.  While the sketch was half done, the relentless biting became unbearable, so I unstrapped my box to see if I could kill the flies while unencumbered.  Upon looking down, I saw a small swarm of flies, and several streams of blood running down my ankles -- I did not know they could do that!  When you have shed blood for your art, it is time stop for the day.  I promptly packed up and ran back to the car with the plague following me.  The rest of the work was completed in the studio, and I think it came out good nonetheless.  I got a good contrast of brushstrokes and textures, along with a satisfying chiaroscuro.  And most importantly, it's naturalistic.

Someday I’ll put up a post of my boxes and explain the merits of that technology.  I’ll also tell you about HRS sketch boxes, and I think I have discovered things, by the grace of God, that shall surprise you.  

A Little More Sorrow and Reproductions

I managed to get a good scan of my picture Sorrow.  After I shared that one on Instagram, I got the idea for this post.  Below left is from the scanner and it approximates how the picture looks indoors in artificial light.  Below right is the image I posted before taken outdoors with a camera that approximates how it looks outdoors in natural light.  And you do observe a change in the artwork throughout the day indoors inasmuch as the changing light outside affects the light inside.  Both reproductions are accurate depending on the lighting.

Indoors the colors are darker and deeper.  Note the cherry red of the clouds.   But you lose some of the subtleties of detail and color, as well as the luminous glow of the glazes.  (Because this is a scanner image, you can also make out a few more blemishes like underdrawing showing through and a few specks of dust -- and these are things common to art history.  It is often you see underdrawings remaining visible in museum paintings (Pre-Raphaelite works are notorious for this), and dust pops up in a masterwork every now and then (I could swear I saw dust in Church's Twilight Short Arbiter 'Twixt Day and Night in person at the Newark Museum)).

The outdoor image captures the glow of the glazes making everything brighter, with subtle details of chiaroscuro and gradations being rendered more visible.  Note how the blueness of the darks in the clouds is brought out.  But the brightness shifts the color, which makes more of the color under the glazes more visible, which is not necessarily bad.  (And you have to contend with glare and perspective issues in camera reproductions, though you often get a better understanding of the brushwork).So now you are thinking I'm just bad at reproducing my artwork.  I have a reason for showing you this!  Artworks produced with traditional techniques vary in appearance in different lighting throughout the day, and when viewed from different vantage points.  This is why you can look up the same museum masterwork on image sharing websites and find a thousand different reproductions of the same work.  You can look at the same artwork professionally photographed in different art history books, and unless both books used the same photograph you will see two different reproductions.  

Artworks painted with layers and glazes and other traditional techniques indeed change in appearance with the circumstances of viewing.  They are not static.  And I'm not the only artist to realize this.  Some people do not trouble themselves with anything beyond composition in art -- nothing matters to them but the image itself, and thus they are happy to sacrifice technique and other subtleties of art-making for the sake of getting a good image that can easily be reproduced.  Hence they switch from oils to easier media to wield, or they give up on making physical art and go digital.  Other people just avoid traditional glazing and do everything direct with overbearing mixes containing lots of opaque white, which makes things photograph better.  And all that's fine for those artists who are into that, and they are not any the lesser for it.  Such methods are certainly more expedient for the purposes of illustration.  

But I'm not that type of artist.  I want my paintings to have more charm and depth than just basic image.  I make an effort to give my paintings better qualities than your typical inspirational poster wall decoration.  My art's higher than that.  I endeavor to produce an artwork that cannot be taken-in entirely with a single glance.  Rather I seek to produce art that shall invite examination for years to come.  And I daresay this what the masters sought before me.  Of course, circumstances don't always permit us to live up to our standards all the time.  But I think I've lived up to mine this time, at least.

Seven Presidents

Seven Presidents

Oil on paper mounted on panel, 9 x 12, Summer 2015.

This was a hazy late afternoon.  I had a limited amount of time and only spent about an hour.  Comparing it to the actual ocean, I thought it was horrible while painting it.  After the waters calmed at sunset and it no longer looked like my sketch, then I felt better about it.  An artist just can’t compete with the works of the Great Artist.  Although taking a step back usually helps. 

I think the brushwork is artistic.  To me, the best sort of realism is one where it is united to technique.  I’ve got some palette knife work in, as well as some sgraffito with a stylus.  And I did wind up using a limited palette, though I did not set out to do so.  I think there’s only about five colors in this one.  It was painted with the Ridner medium.  

I think this is the last ocean picture I have to post for a while.  

The Price of Experimentation

The Price of Experimentation

This is one of the works I did when I was experimenting on finding a good priming for sketches.  I was just playing around with techniques for painting water, and with the Ridner medium, and I think I was looking at Church's Niagara while doing this.  I learned a lot, but there was a latent issue with the priming.  Apparently the oil I applied over the sealing coat was absorbed unevenly, and now has yellowed in an uneven blotchiness that is apparent in the light part of the sky.  If I recall, that sealer was some species of acrylic white, probably one with a lot of chalk in it.  Most artists would never use such a paint for a sealer anyway, so don’t be afraid of the more customary acrylic gessoes – this does not happen with them.  

Morning

Morning

Oil on canvas panel, 8 x 10, December 2015.

I had a little extra paint from a long session on another painting, so I spontaneously made this with the leftovers.  I was planning on defining things a little more with another coat, but I think the brushiness helps soften things to create a dreamlike quality befitting the subject.  As always, I aim for textured calligraphy with my brushwork. 

Ocean

Ocean

Oil on paper mounted on panel, 9 x 12, 2015.

I’ve been studying the sea for years and I think I’m finally having some success in depicting it.  I never like just doing direct painting.  I like the old aesthetic of the HRS and Ruskin that transparent water should be painted with transparent paint (although I think both parties ended up compromising that standard by settling instead for the depiction of reflections as the suggestion of transparency).  In my works I like to unite realism to some technique fitting for the depiction of the object in question.  Well, this one’s a secret technique I’m not willing to share, but I will tell you this is all alla prima (except the brown band was added later), and I believe Church had a similar technique for painting moving water.  It gave me all the transparency and brushwork I wanted. 

This painting was the first I did with the priming I settled upon for oil sketches: acrylic molding paste.  Before this I tried a number of other primings for making paper suitable to receive oil.  I discerned from a number of clues that HRS sketches were primed with lead white oil paint (the big question every student of the HRS is asking is if they or the colormen sealed their paper first – they probably did if the oil didn’t rot the paper – and what they used for that nobody seems to know).  Today lead white is too expensive and you need to seal the paper first, and I wanted something that could be done in one coat.  The qualities of an oil priming I needed were an unabsorbent (or mostly unabsorbent) surface, smoothness (lots of effects in Church’s sketches can be explained by the smoothness of the ground), and receptivity to pencil drawing.  So I tried animal glue primings, which did work a little in smoothness and pencil receptivity, but were too absorbent and badly warped the paper even if it was a thick paperboard.  An oil paint priming over that worked well, but that was too much work and the paper was still warped.  Various formulations of acrylic gesso were tried, and they also sealed the paper with a smooth surface receptive to pencil, but were always too absorbent unless they received an additional oil paint coat.  A priming of one of those cheap, low-quality craft (“plaid”) acrylics you get at Walmart was so absorbent that a thick coat of pure oil was literally sucked into it before my eyes so no oil could be seen or felt on the surface five minutes after application!  Then I was pretty happy with a mix of acrylic gloss and matte mediums.  The matte I found too absorbent on its own (it was usable with an oil-out but not without one), and the gloss could not be drawn on at all and overlying oil paint had delamination issues.  Mixed together, you had something good for smoothness and lack of absorbency, though pencil drawing was difficult.  When I tried the molding paste, it turned out to be perfect for my purposes.  It is mostly unabsorbent as it is made with marble dust instead of chalk like acrylic gesso or matte medium.  It easily takes drawing, is smooth, unabsorbent enough, is flexible, and easy to apply with one thick coat being sufficient.  I think it’s a perfect, easy substitute for an oil priming on paper.

So why do I even use the paper?  It’s lightweight and easier to store (easier to bring more along at an outing) than a canvas panel.  The biggest advantage is the smoothness you don’t get otherwise.  With that said, canvas panels also work, though they’re usually too absorbent and rough textured to make me happy. 

So, for anyone looking for a good, HRS-style, oil sketching ground, know that they historically used an oil paint priming, and today’s acrylic molding pastes (acrylic binder + marble dust) are a good substitute.

Tropical Fantasy

Tropical Fantasy

Oil on panel, 5 x 7, December 2014.

I had an experimental plein air session in the cold while it was snowing today, so I post this unrelated picture to help me warm up.  I remember painting this in one quick session on Christmas Eve while watching Miracle on 34^th Street.  I really wanted to stick it to the winter!  A lot of people think the winter is the most wonderful season, and that is fine for them; there is nothing wrong with that, it is beautiful even in my opinion, but winter only ever brought torment for me and mine.  Here in NJ, the powers that be have this delusion that man has conquered nature, so when the roads are dangerous, they don’t care, and all our obligations still remain without mercy.  It has been said that fire is the devil’s only friend – but having lived in NJ all my life, I say it seems like he is rather fond of ice.

I now have an unhealthily strong desire to be in a warmer climate and dream of the day I may relocate south.  Years of studying Frederic Church’s works entitles me to make a tropical picture every now and then at least.  I tried to cut loose in the brushwork in the flora, and I think I have succeeded.  Getting realistic, or at least satisfactory leaf-work has a lot to do with restraint and knowing when to stop.  It’s really a calligraphic art in itself. 

Doesn’t it just make you feel warm?

Sorrow

Sorrow

Oil on panel, March 2015, A. De Monte.

This is the third time I painted this subject.  My father is a writer and he completed both a serious history in addition to an historic fiction on a little-known, but important Revolutionary War hero.  This is a subject from the historic fiction.  I will say no more because my father is very protective about his work until he gets it published, and rightfully so.  But divorced from the context, you still get the emotional impact of my picture. 

Anyway, my first attempt at the subject was a Prismacolor pencil drawing I did in high school that legitimately took people’s breath away.  That one was my father’s favorite (I am afraid I can’t show it to you until we get published).  And since I thought it was the best and most important of all my illustrations, I attempted it again in the more permanent medium of oil paint.  The second attempt had better technique, but it had lost something.  The picture you see here is my third attempt and my favorite.  I utilized some romantic pictorial devices to strengthen the emotional power of the image. 

So you see a woman in her wedding dress about to throw herself off the cliffs and into the sea.  The associations and contexts you can read into this are endless.  The earth has become a hell, and the clouds swirl downwards and foretell of her imminent movement.  There is one patch of clear sky that seems like a faint hope, but even that is a noxious yellow.  The angry sea smashes itself into the cruel, jagged rocks at the bottom. 

The clouds burn downwards like the despairing feelings in the hearts of the afflicted.  “All the days of the afflicted are evil.” And I’ve been there.  As someone prone to occasional depression (aren't most artists?), I think I have succeeded in depicting these things.  I make an effort to not share pain in artworks – I prefer to build up rather than break down – but I don’t feel too sad looking at this one.  There’s a difference between a meditative sorrow and outright despair.  “Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.” I always feel better after seeing an artwork with romantic sorrow or romantic loneliness in it.  I hope this work makes my viewers feel better.

On a lighter note, I’ll also share some information on my technique.  This was painted with Groves’ Roberson’s Medium.  I recommend it for anyone open to using resin mediums – at least give it a try so you see what all the hype about megilp mediums is about.  See all the texture manipulation that I got with ease.  I got visibly different effects in the trees, clouds, rocks, sky, waves, and foam all without a struggle.  Megilp mediums really are wonderful for brushwork.  Even so, the J. P. Ridner medium I have spoken about before is a great substitute for megilp and comes close to equaling it, though it is a bit more unpleasant under the brush for its stiffness.  Both were around in the days of the HRS and I shall tell you at a later date how to tell the difference between the two (they are very similar in effects).  Megilp mediums are vilified today, but with only a few layers like I have here, you should not have to fear ill effects.  The brazen examples of megilp misuse, Joshua Reynolds and J. M. W. Turner, did other things that could better explain the deformity of their works today.  Reynolds employed draperymen who used different mediums from him, which caused problems when they overlapped each other, and Turner switched between copal and megilp within the same painting.  Actually, both of them experimented far worse than this and committed many other technical sins.  By the next generation, our few American treatises on technique were imploring artists to learn from their mistakes and use the same medium throughout the same work. 

I’m really happy with the clouds.  I painted them by first laying down a pure layer of French ultramarine into which I worked cadmium orange.  After that was dry, it got two glazes of quinacridone red.  I gained some insights as to how Church painted Twilight in the Wilderness by doing this.  With techniques like these, the physical artworks have properties that just cannot be seen completely in reproductions.  Though it is small, I had to resort to my camera as my scanner just could not handle the color in this work. 

May you never feel like this painting.  And if you do, may this painting make you feel better.  

Autumn Ocean

Autumn Ocean

Oil on canvas panel, 2015, A. De Monte

I have a feeling this is a painting that people won’t “get.” That’s what I get for being a realist who feels more comfortable working from memory than from photographs.  Well, Thomas Cole preferred to paint his oil sketches from memory (preferring pencil for on-site sketching) as he wanted to forget lesser details and have the features with the greater emotional impact left strong upon his mind: “Have you not found, I have, that I never succeed in painting scenes, however beautiful, immediately on returning from them.  I must wait for Time to draw a veil over the common details, the unessential parts, which shall leave the great features, whether the beautiful or the sublime, dominant in the mind.”       But my painting here is a finished work and not a sketch, although it is small and experimental in terms of technique.  I would love to do things more officially as the HRS did with many preparatory sketches and studies and finished paintings in a larger format, but, alas, time and circumstances don’t permit. 

Whatever, I like this one anyway.  What I was going for was to capture an effect of light I noticed upon the water in autumn.  The sea becomes a steely grey and the waves become opaque, with one side with a strong glare, and the other with a metallic opacity.  If you can see in my reproduction, I make an effort to have artistic brushwork.  I know my impasto isn’t as steep as what you see in Modern art, but neither was the impasto of the HRS.  Many art historians who must have never seen HRS paintings up close (or perhaps they unjustly judge the historic works with modern eyes) claim they used “invisible brushstrokes,” and nothing could have been further from the truth.  There was an aesthetic back then that dictated the brushstrokes, in their direction and texture (as well as the paint’s transparency or opacity), should resemble the objects depicted – and Cole was striving for this before Ruskin’s Modern Painters came out.  Cole actually faulted Turner because his rocks were not painted with as much “solidity” (opacity) as they had in nature.  So you can see that our American painters had their own opinions and were not servile derivatives of the British school as some of the earliest modern writers on the HRS would have us believe.  There was certainly respect and influence for the British school by HRS painters, though it must be understood the HRS had independent beliefs.  Church took that brushwork aesthetic to heights no other painter did, and that is one of the reasons he is my favorite.  But now I’m off on a tangent…

So how did I go about this painting?  In a nutshell, I first used sgraffito techniques to do the initial modelling on the waves.  While that was wet, and also in a refining session after it was dry, I placed bold, singular strokes of pure lead white for the gloss on the waves.  After that dried, I did the same on the other side of the waves with a shadow color which was applied thinner than the white.  With me it’s not so much an economy of brushstrokes (I will have as many brushstrokes as necessary to get the job done) as it is textured calligraphy.  That is what Church did.  In most Church paintings, one leaf is one brushstroke, applied as thick or thin as befits the depiction of that species. 

I think it came out pretty.  This is a good picture to zone-out on, whether you picture yourself within it or get lost in its abstract elements.  At least, that’s what I do with it.  I will always maintain that there is much greater potential for abstraction in realism than there is in any other school of art-making.  There is far more abstraction in nature than in “independent” human invention.  Really, I take no issue with abstraction when it takes no issue with me.  But I can never be reconciled to Modernism’s art-for-art’s-sake (is art a god? art would do well to remember just who its master is – art shall do my bidding!).  

So, I have written you a long and disjointed post that wanders far from the issue at hand.  But what I want my readers to take away is this:  there are many more things at play in realistic art than just a realistic depiction of the subject, and that goes for both contemporary and historic art in representational styles.  We too have got artistic dialogues going, concern for old and new techniques, applications for abstraction, attempts to channel and influence emotion, and a desire to make something meaningful, among many other things.  The potential for realism is far, far, far from exhausted.

Moon and Clouds

Moon and Clouds

Oil on canvas panel, 8 x 10 inches, 2015.

I did this a few months back when we had a super moon eclipse.  I didn't get to see the moon or the eclipse as it seems like the sky is never clear when you want it to be here in NJ :( but a night of vain hope made me feel like painting some sort of nocturne.  Sometimes I look at the crystalline beauty of the night sky and get tempted to just give up painting anything else.  But I enjoy the daylight too much for that.  

I used a limited palette.  If I recall I only used lead white, phthalo blue, Armenian mummy (a Natural Pigments color), and Cyprus raw umber light.  I might have also used French ultramarine, but I don't remember -- it's good to have both a red-blue and a green-blue.

This was the painting I tried using the Ridner medium in a layered approach.  It excels used thick or thin and its powers synergize marvelously with lead white (lead white's textural powers are special on their own but almost always gain greater force when augmented with a resin medium).  I see great potential for this having been Church's medium.  

But there are still a few flaws.  For one thing it did not perform as well thinned with turpentine as I expected.  We know the Hudson River School artists generally used turpentine as an as-needed dipper cup medium, and there are areas in their paintings that show extremely thinned passages.  Church, in particular, has an ink-like effect you more commonly see in aqueous media where the edges of the brushstroke are thicker than the center because the very fluid stroke pooled then collapsed upon itself rapidly as the solvent evaporated quickly.  You see this effect throughout Church's oeuvre in limited areas, like in some of the detailing of the rocks in the Heart of the Andes, but by his late career the effect is rampant (see any of his European paintings like the Aegean Sea, which I have seen, or Tropical Scenery in the Brooklyn Museum, which I have not seen though the Google Art Project image seems to show this effect).  I suspect abuse of this technique is part of the reason his late paintings seem to be in such bad shape, though we know he blatantly violated fat-over-lean in the oily underdrawing of El Rio de Luz (how a veteran painter could make that mistake, I don't know), so there could be other reasons for the condition of later paintings, and, like I said, he seems to have utilized extremely-solvent-thinned paint in areas of earlier paintings that are in good shape.  

Anyway, with my Ridner medium paint (half and half with the colors), when I thinned it enough to produce the ink-like effect, it worked, but the paint film was too weak upon drying and was easily damaged by overpainting (and would not have bore a final varnishing if left alone).  Apparently the wax weakens the film that would otherwise be much stronger were it just oil paint and oil copal varnish.  But I think I know what the problem is.  The historical Ridner medium would have had lead and umber dryers in the oil, and likely lead in the copal varnish (plus materials suppliers "colormen" might have had dryers pre-added to the colors).  Church also ordered large amounts of Siccatif Courtrai, a powerful dryer, though he may have only used it for sketches.  I made my Ridner medium without lead as I originally tried it as a sketch box medium, and I try to keep poison colors out of the sketch box as things are cumbersome out in the field without a sink to remedy mishaps.  The drying power of the lead should counteract the slow drying of the wax and also help render things more adhesive.  And if that's not enough, then there is still one more option.  I prefer walnut oil and have made my Ridner medium with it.  However linseed oil possesses a slightly stronger film strength (with a number of undesirable trade-offs, in my opinion, like susceptibility to wrinkling), and we have evidence that suggests most HRS artists were probably using linseed oil as their paint binder.  So we shall see what happens.

Secret Technique #1 Just Add Water

One major way I differ from my heroes in the Hudson River School is that I am greatly interested in technique.  All the HRS artists downplayed technique and stressed hard work and study from nature in the few documents we have that clue us in to their aesthetics, BUT that doesn't mean they did not invent or use their own techniques to depict nature in ways they deemed appropriate.  Anyone looking at Cole, Church, Cropsey, or Gifford can see that there was much more at play in brushwork and other effects than just pure oil and pigment and direct painting.  They tended to believe technique should be subservient to subject, and that the treatment should match the subject.  But that is another story...

Anyway, I have read dozens and dozens (probably more like hundreds if you count articles and excerpts) of books on art history, art conservation, and technique.  I would like to share some little-known things I have found that I think would be helpful to today's artists.  I'm much too young to be willing to give up all my secrets, but I think what I offer will be appreciated.  At the very least, you shall get a better idea of the sort of artist that I am.

So, Secret Technique #1, Just Add Water

The big issue for artists who grind their own paint without additives is that the colors don't always keep good consistency in the tube.  Well, for certain colors there is a way to amend that.

To the right is some yellow ochre I ground up.  Note how the big pile slumps slightly.  It is rounded and has some gloss.  In most cases this is a good consistency for me if used presently (I usually add varnish mediums when it makes it to the palette), though I have experienced yellow ochre get unpleasantly longer in consistency than I have ground it if not used up a short time after grinding.  In case you are wondering, this is made with about 40-50 grams of yellow ochre pigment.  I don't know how much oil, as I just eyeball things while making paint.

Here I have a few drops of water.  Any type clean enough to drink will do (and even saliva will work in a pinch if in the field -- though I don't know why you wouldn't bring water with you).

See the water on the oil paint in the middle of the pile.  It will not combine readily and must be forced into union with the knife.  You must be quick, but it's nowhere near difficult.  Add it to a pile like I have here.  If you add it to a large, flat expanse of color (like after it is spread out by a muller), the water is liable to rapidly shoot itself to the edge of the paint and perhaps off the slab (I have seen it happen), which is really fun to watch but not good for our purposes.

Behold!  See how much the paint has shortened in consistency after the water is coerced in.  Note the sharper peaks and higher pile.  It also loses some gloss.  It is as stiff as it looks, good to tube if meant to be kept for much later, especially if meant to be used outdoors in the heat and cumbersome situations.  

You can add more water to get the paint stiffer.  It is possible to make the paint immobile, and more water will further matte out the paint.  If you added too much water, spread out the paint thinly and leave it for a while.  The effect goes away when the water evaporates.  The water trick works with some other earth colors (if I recall, it works with raw sienna, but not burnt sienna), it does NOT work with the Mars colors.  But the best part is that it works with Ultramarine, the color all who grind their own paint complain bitterly about due to its otherwise unavoidable, watery ropiness that only gets worse when stored in a tube for any long period of time. So what are the problems with this secret?  The most it can do is help for storage or temporarily amend the consistency on the palette.  When the water evaporates, the effect is gone.  So if you stiffen up some ultramarine, that does not mean you can use it as an impasto -- I have tried for the purpose of experimenting -- it will slump on the painting support and potentially run if applied too thickly (you must add a medium to impaste something like ultramarine).  

I also imagine a more cautious person might object that the water can cause problems in the paint film.  It's such a small amount you add, and the water will evaporate out before the paint dries, so I see no reason to fear.  Besides, if your pigment clumped together into balls due to exposure to humidity, you're liable to get the effects of the water trick without adding water.  I thought Gamblin's ultramarine pigment must have been impure for years before I knew about the water trick because it made a good-consistency paint (their pigment was pure but it was balled together from humidity when I received it).  Besides, I learned this technique from no less an authority than Gilbert Stuart, a technically-conservative artist who regarded all fancy techniques and mediums, beyond occasional megilp use, as mere trickery.  

In John W. McCoubrey's Sources & Documents in American Art 1700-1960, on p. 24 we have the quote.  Gilbert Stuart told Matthew Jouett "To take out the oil from (yellow paint) stone ochre when it works ropy with your palette knife and a little water work it about on your palette and it will soon lose its clamminess and work short and agreeably."  Stone ochre or stone yellow was the archaic term for yellow ochre.  Of course, Stuart is incorrect about the oil being taken out, but we get his point.  A little water stiffens yellow ochre.  

Jasper Francis Cropsey also used the water trick for grinding ultramarine.  You can read about it in one of Alexander Katlan's two volumes on American Artists' Materials Suppliers Directory (my photocopies are buried right now, so I can't recall which one and on what page -- though it was the one that also had a chapter on Cole).  Cropsey sold ultramarine on the side and according to his account book, Church and Kensett had purchased some from him (this can be found on p. 78 of Talbot's dissertation on Cropsey).  So understand many great artists utilized the water trick I have related to you.

I know I was happy when I found a way to keep my ultramarine from puddling in the tube.  I hope you all find this useful.  I can't say if my future hints will be as helpful, but it's something.

Three Small Paintings

Sunrise

Sunset

Light in the Darkness

There was a fourth, too, a moonrise, but that wound up with relatives.  All of these are old, but I figure I might as well post them to build up posts while I have the images on my computer.  People are sometimes interested to see how an artist's skill progresses over time.  Sunrise was the first picture I used handground oils in, and that had to be from maybe eight years ago.  Sunset was an experiment with megilp a year or so later.  Light in the Darkness was much later and done with Groves' Cole's Copal.  You can see the potential religious interpretation in that one: "when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me." Some lights are best seen in the dark.  All ended up being pendants to each other and are each oil on panel, and 6 by 6 inches.  I try to not paint a sunset without also painting a sunrise.  

Autumn 2015

Autumn 2015

8 x 10, Oil on canvas panel, completed 10/2015.

This year I wanted to study the season well as it may be my last in NJ.  I found out the hard way my fingers don't move the way I want them to below 60 degrees F, so I only got one small oil sketch with my box.  I didn't have my box perfected, nor time to sketch outdoors frequently outside of summer, until this year.  This finished painting instead was composed from memory, putting to use my observations.  I am very pleased with the brushwork, although I admit it could be a bit more realistic.  I sometimes get carried away with color.  With that said, I prefer a bright, cheerful autumn to a somber one.

I used the J. P. Ridner medium (4/9 copal varnish, 4/9 oil, 1/9 beeswax) for this.  The Ridner medium may have been the medium Frederic Edwin Church used.  It seems quite likely to me this is what he used for oil sketches.  The effect I got in the branches in the large tree on the left can be seen in a number of his sketches in the Cooper-Hewitt.  There are obstacles to this theory, though.  The Ridner medium is heat sensitive and works best at room temperature (the paint puddles but does not run on a hot day), as at room temperature it behaves similarly to megilp (it was used historically as a superior substitute for megilp).  I get the best Church-like brushwork when I work on an oil primed board given a thin oil-out (best if the oil is cut half and half with turpentine), and the temperature in the 70s. The proportion of the medium in the colors could be altered to adapt to the weather, and the resin concentration in the varnish also has an effect.  So I need to experiment more.  The Ridner medium performs marvelously when used thinly without an oil-out, as well, as Church would have used it in studio pictures.  And there is good reason to believe Cropsey was also using it in his earlier paintings. But I'll post my theories on Hudson River School technique in greater elaboration sometime in a future post.  You can find the original recipe for the Ridner medium as an improved formulation of megilp with copal in Ridner's Artist's Chromatic Handbook which can be had for free in the Internet Archive at https://archive.org/details/artistschromatic00ridn .  The proportions I give are what he means (we artists have never been very quick with math).