Iris on Aquabord finished

I'll be honest. I've found this to be one of the more frustrating paintings I've ever undertaken. I never could get comfortable with the characteristics of Aquabord. I kept trying to tell myself that it was a phase, and that it would grow on me. After all, I had similar pangs of frustration when I first switched from Canson's Montval line of paper to Arches cotton-rag papers.

However, those frustrations when first using Arches faded quickly as I began to understand the potential locked within those cotton fibers.

I never reached that sense of promise with this painting. Perhaps I really am too set in my ways. And I have six more small pieces of Aquabord tucked in my desk drawer, so they'll have to utilized in some way eventually. Maybe I'm just not ready yet and another attempt will go better.

Scrub-a-dub-dub

So I've been daring, and I've scrubbed out the dominant fall on this iris and repainted it. I'm not sure that it's any better than the original version, but I think it matches the upper standards a little better now. I've decided that I don't like the glazing properties of Aquabord

I'm using staining colors so I thought I might be able to glaze from a technical standpoint, but it turns out that I didn't like the effect. I like the mottled results from flooding an area with mingled colors. That's how the upper standards were painted, and that's what I wanted to accomplish with the re-do of the fall.

However, in trying to get areas appropriately dark, I think I lost the mottled effect. But I still think it matches a little better. The first version felt highly finished, and really didn't look like watercolor anymore. It had the look of acrylic. I like the blemishes that indicate that watercolor was at work.

Getting the hang of it

I'm slowly getting the hang of Aquabord's characteristics in a wet-into-wet application. You can see the difference between the larger fall in the foreground and the upper petals (on irises the lower petals are called falls).

I had painted the fall first and was still struggling with the unfamiliar surface. Then I moved into the upper petals and there, in a smaller area, I started to get the hang of things. I then went back into the dominant fall to improve its look, but I'm not sure that I managed that.

One observation so far: the colors are definitely vivid. You can see the underlying layers of permanent rose in many areas, so there is a sense of depth, but I prefer the textures that developed in the upper sections resulting from a single mingled-color wash. The texture adds to the ruffled look that characterizes this particular bloom. Once the paint is down, it seems difficult to go back in and recapture that effect if you've lost it.

I'm tempted to wash out one area as an experiment, and then see if I can recapture the texture with a fresh application of paint. I'll keep you posted.

Iris on Aquabord

It feels as though summer is nearly over, and I have little painting progress to show for the last several weeks. In truth, I have two projects in the works, though my time for painting has been a little sporadic of late. 

I'll save the other project for another day, but here is my latest "Lunchtime Painting." Yes, yet another iris (easily my favorite flower), but the twist here is the surface on which I'm painting. It's not paper.

This is a 5"x7" piece of Ampersand Aquabord (formerly known as Claybord Textured). It's a a masonite board with a ground of kaolin clay on the surface. The company, and some other painters who regularly use the material, compare its painting qualities to cold-press paper, only lifting paint is much easier, they say.

I worked on the support in a workshop a few years ago and found it to be somewhat interesting. In the wake of that experience, I had purchased some small pieces of Aquabord. However, they've been  in a desk drawer ever since.

Given my painting doldrums, I decided to pull out  a piece and give it a try. And it's been a bit of a struggle so far.

I've been very much in the habit of developing these iris paintings with thin, watery glazes. The 300-pound Arches has been particularly well-suited for that kind of approach. But when I attempt the same procedure on the Aquabord, the outcome is very different.

First, the drying shift is deceptive. Normally, on paper, the paint looks very vibrant when wet and then lightens and loses some saturation as it dries. On this surface, the paint looks chalky and dull when wet, and then dries into more vibrant colors.

Second, it's difficult to soften edges and melt one color into the next because I don't have any feel for the hydrodynamics of the kaolin clay ground.

Finally, when things dry, there is a curious mottled effect that remains, often looking as though I had sprinkled a bit of clear water on the surface. I think it has to do with the textured nature of the ground. It's not unpleasant in this instance because of the texture of the flower's petals and falls, but it's unexpected.

So, it's been a learning experience thus far. I almost think that this surface demands more of a drybrush approach, or perhaps a very hard-edge, posterized style. Watery wet-into-wet seems to be problematic. But, I'll also admit that I'm a newbie, and I'm going to keep plugging along and experimenting on this project.

The watercolor painter I'm most aware of who is using Aquabord is Ali Cavanaugh, who has been featured in several of the national art magazines. She describes her painting process as "neo fresco secco," because she was inspired to paint on plaster surfaces, and then found Ampersand's product lines fit her needs. Her painting process is similar to that of egg tempera, using small overlapping strokes. To read more about her process, click here.

To see more of Ali's paintings, visit her website at: http://www.alicavanaugh.com/

Peony

Peony

I've finally managed to complete another lunchtime painting. I've been working on this one for a while, and it took two starts to get something that I liked.

This is based on a photo taken by a budding photographer who is a cousin to my husband. She was showing several of her photos during a family picnic last year, and I was struck by one image in particular -- a closeup image of a peony in bloom.

I asked her if I could use the image for a painting, and told her that the resulting piece would be hers.

So, it's been a year, but I finally have a small painting (4"x6") for her.

I like how this painting is divided into clearly warm and cool sections. Many of these colors aren't present in the source photo...I embellished as I built up glazes, and punched up colors to build a sense of depth. Warm colors tend to move closer, and cool colors recede.

Christmas 2010

I've prepared Christmas cards for this year, and I've modified my usual painting of a snowy barn -- and instead painted a snowy house.

This is the house that's been the subject of an ongoing project for many, many months. The house was the childhood home of my father, and it was destroyed in a fire around 30 years ago.

Dad has wanted me to paint it for years. The problem has been that there are no photographs of the house...only random slivers accidentally included in family snapshots.

So I've created this painting from a composite of images. I'm also now working on the larger painting of the house, which will be completed in time for Christmas. I'll post pictures of that project when I am closer to its completion.

In other news, one of my lunchtime paintings has been included in the "First Art Show" in Winchester, Va. The show is in its third year, and proceeds from the show go to support First Night Winchester -- an organization that plans family-oriented entertainment for New Year's Eve in Winchester. The exhibit is at the Shenandoah Arts Council on Loudoun Street.

Merry Christmas!

White Iris

It's taking me forever to complete the little lunchtime paintings, but sometimes they turn out to be worth the wait!

I really like this little painting because of the strong sense of light. Because the contrasts are so strong in some areas, I felt as though I didn't need to fuss with a lot of details to make this come together.

I really like this pared-down, simple-is-best result. I also enjoy the hints of colors that bounce around in some of the shadowed areas. Overall, I think the petals sing with energy and color.

Miniature show

My friend Mary VanMeter at Water Street Gallery in Petersburg, W.Va., is excited to be organizing a small exhibit of small paintings!

We've engaged in an ongoing, friendly debate over calling the paintings "miniatures."

Inevitably, it seems, we fall into calling them miniatures out of convenience and habit, but I've argued that, technically, I don't think a small painting necessarily equates a miniature painting. To me, a miniature is created when an artist consciously attempts to paint a realistic scene or object in as small a scale as possible.

Much of what I do in small scale isn't so much a matter of attempting to paint as small as possible, but as conveniently and quickly as possible (e.g. my lunchtime paintings).

So are my lunchtime paintings minis? I guess it's up to the viewers to decide?

What do you think? What is the definition of a miniature, and is size the determining factor?

At right is one of the small-scale paintings I did for the show, which will open in October. I'll pass along details when Mary gets everything arranged. The size of the painting is 2 inches by 4 inches, and it's matted in a 4x6 frame. It's one of four little scenes that I completed, which, as a set, complete a larger landscape. So I guess it's part one of a "tetraptych."

The image is a little blurry because I forgot to photograph it before framing. So I shot through the glass with a polarizing lens to neutralize reflections. Sorry!

Finally calling this one finished

After three months (most of which was time spent in my tote) I declare this little iris to be finished (thank goodness). Already sketching out the next one to occupy me during lunch breaks.

After the horrible middle patch where I thought I had lost the painting, I think I recovered fairly well. Unfortunately, the compositional elements which interested me were lost with the failed background. But that's okay. Try, try again.

Saved by scrubbing

Well, I kept working on the background, resorting to some light scrubbing in places, and finally brought it into harmony with the iris. In the areas where I scrubbed, I went back in while the paper was still wet with Thalo Green and some yellow to brighten things. I think the roughened areas now add some texture as well, which helps add interest.

So now I'm down to working on the stem, the beards, and the veining. Boy, this one has been a struggle, but I'm nearly there.

Big change

Well, with the obvious failure of my original background, I got out the darks (Thalo Green and Permanent Rose) and resorted to one of my usual background techniques.

However, because this was an impulse substitution, I find that the iris no longer fits with its surroundings ... mostly because of its color. It's too pink, or something, and the areas where I had continued to darken the iris falls now don't work very well because they are disappearing into the dark background. I need more highlights and contrasts.

It's amazing how my natural tendency to work all over a painting helps avoid these kinds of errors. By naturally balancing tone and value in a comprehensive manner, paintings work better. My unplanned and sudden amendments have thrown this painting into limbo.

Background blues

Well, it was around this point that I decided I just wasn't happy with how the background was turning out. In my highly manipulated photo reference, I really liked this idea, but in the painting, I found that it was highly distracting.

I kept trying to darken the iris falls to to move the eye back to the foreground, but, as you can see it's just not working. I think this was a faulty concept. Sometimes I have to remind myself that keeping things simple is often the best design framework.

Lunchtime painting lingers

Oh, the dog days of summer, when everything moves so slowly.....

This lunchtime painting certainly falls into that pattern. I've been carrying it around with me since May, I think, and it's still not finished. Someday, I keep saying.

This is a little larger than the other minis have been. It's about 5 inches square, and I heavily modified the source photo in Photoshop to create the effect I wanted . . . sharp foreground with a particularly washed out background, but with some supporting diagonal lines to hold the composition in place (the diagonals are some background stems and the shadows from the siding on my house).

I really liked the tension the background created. I also like the slanted angle and the offset focal point.


I applied most of my preliminary washes very wet-into-wet to achieve the soft, out of focus effect for the background. I'll continue to glaze in the iris to build up its definition.

Mt. Hebron Cemetery

I wandered up the street at lunchtime earlier this week and positioned myself on a comfortable bench in the Old Lutheran Cemetery portion of Mt. Hebron Cemetery in Winchester. From this vantage point, I sketched the striking Mt. Hebron gatehouse.

The gatehouse, dressed in locally quarried bluestone, was designed by architects James Stewart Barney and Henry Otis Chapman of New York, the same men who created the stunning Beaux-Arts Handley Library a few blocks away.

The design of the gatehouse, however, certainly does not match the flamboyance of the Beaux-Art library. A recent application to the National Register of Historic Places describes many of the gatehouse's elements to be Chateauesque, with additional nods to medieval castles, complete with decorative arrow slits and rounded turrets.

I completed this sketch in about 20 minutes. I don't think could have focused much longer given the blinding sunlight that afternoon.

Life lesson

Given the sadness that has permeated the last two weeks, I look at this little painting and try to draw some comparisons to life.

My conclusion: It's not the ending that matters so much as the journey. Enjoy the journey and learn from it as best you can.

"Yeller" old

I'm almost there. . .

Close to wrapping this up now, but the process been slowed by the lovely weather during the last few days. It's been difficult to stay inside during lunch to work on the mini. So I've taken a few walks this week rather than paint.

The next mini, I've already decided, will move back to a point of comfort: a purple iris. The challenge will be its composition. I'm planning a square, which is always tricky to imbue with energy. Plus, I'd like to see if I can loosen up in such a small painting.

Baby steps

Well, I think it's looking better. The contrast of the rust/maroon elements on the falls helps immensely, I think.

Looking back over my color chart from the weekend, it appears that the most attractive mixes come from using Yellow Ochre. Those samples actually exhibit some almost silvery effects. Most of the others tend toward brown or green.

But I'm loath to use Yellow Ochre in most of my paintings because it is somewhat opaque, and it exhibited "milky" and dull attributes the few times I've tried it. Perhaps I was using it with incompatible pigments, so with some more experiments I might give it a second look.

Yellow with fear

Well, I've started a new Lunchtime Painting, and I've listened to the challenge of a friend who told me I should try an iris in a different color.

Well, here it is, and boy it's been difficult.

I have never attempted to mix much with yellows before, and creating neutral tints for the shadows, etc., has been problematic.

Lesson learned: You can make some really sickly colored tints with yellow if you don't know what you are doing.