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.