1st — larger version |  2nd — larger version | 3rd — larger version

Thanks to Magsramsray for her brilliant suggestion to just post the image without explanatory text. She really hit the nail on the head with her comments. I do feel a kind of self-imposed pressure to say something momentous each time I post, which is intimidating and leads to self-censorship. But since this is my party, I can do whatever I want, including making the choice to be free of substance. So here’s the painting mentioned in the last post, submitted here without commentary.

Lyle. 32 x 38 inches, oil on board. ©2008 Deidre Adams.

After abstraction, we returned to representation — specifically, portraiture. We had a random drawing of names in which we each chose a fellow classmate for our portrait subjects. We were to take several photographs of our victim, using lighting that emphasized a contrast of light and dark shading to create visual interest. Again, sketches were required to refine plans for composition and tonal values before starting on the final painting.

We were limited to a palette of mostly earth colors plus ultramarine blue and cadmium red or orange, plus white, of course. The color was to be fairly close to nature, but pushed a bit. The twist for this painting was that the entire thing had to be done with large flat brushes, no rounds. There was another requirement: We had to premix all colors and shades to be used on the palette — little or no blending was to be done on the canvas. I found this to be extremely difficult and tedious, as I much prefer mushing stuff around on the painting itself. However, although it was frustrating to work this way, I have to admit it resulted in a much more interesting and dynamic mix of color. I really love the effect of the rough transitions of color and value.

I think I learned more from this painting than from any other assignment that semester. (Especially since I know I’m bad at doing people and try to avoid it whenever possible.) The finished painting doesn’t look very much like Lyle, both due to my painting skills and also since he’s usually smiling and rarely this serious, but you wouldn’t know that if you didn’t have this photo for comparison.

Channeling. 48 x 48 inches, acrylic on canvas. ©2008 Deidre Adams.

The second assignment was called “Abstracted Landscape.” The instructor also referred to this as a “subjective” landscape. We were to abstract a particular landscape of our choice, but also to explore a concept as it relates to abstractions of landscape. However, the water was muddied by this direction:

Look into schools of scientific thought such as geology, geography, physics or mathematics (geometry). For example, scientists have proven that nature grows in patterns (the Fibonacci Sequence, DNA). Create the patterns in nature as exhibited in trees, water, rocks, plants, etc. Or, you may wish to explore artistic/philosophical movements such as Transcendentalism or Shintoism.

I never quite got to the point of being able to reconcile this concept with the idea of landscape, so in the interest of getting something done in a timely fashion, I just went for abstraction. This came shortly after my trip to Traverse City in September, and I had some great photos from that trip, specifically from a visit to the derelict Traverse City State Hospital. I still need to do an entire post about that place, but one of its many offerings of fantastic weathered surfaces was a brick wall with some exceptional cracking paint patterns.

©2008 Deidre Adams.

But, while I was very interested in doing something related to cracking patterns, I had no idea how to go about finding areas of scientific research related to them. So I started looking into nature-related topics, and because I was already thinking about these shapes, I realized that vein patterns in some leaves make enclosed shapes that are very similar to the shapes formed by patterns of cracks in weathered paint.

©2008 Deidre Adams.

I wondered if there is some kind of scientific reason for this, but it’s kind of hard to research something if you have no idea what that something might be called. So I found a lot of very technical information about leaves and venation patterns, but nothing that answered my question.

Then, to make the assignment even more specific, we had to collect examples of abstract painting and choose a particular painting to take the colors from (not necessarily in the same proportions as the original). My color chart:

We had to do preliminary painting “sketches” for every assignment. I found these rather difficult, as I took way too much time in doing them, far too painstakingly. I think the idea was just to go for placement, value, and color, but I never could get the habit of just scratching them out fast. Especially in acrylic, which takes a lot of mixing to get a specific color. For later assignments, I started doing the sketches in watercolor; that helped me to loosen up considerably. Also, when I work abstractly, my process is not to try to recreate something specifically, but rather to put some things on, study them for a while, then cover up parts, add parts, etc., in an intuitive manner. Even when I do start with a sketch, the finished product is always quite different. Anyway, these are the sketches I made for this painting: Somewhat overworked, too literal, and not terribly interesting.

In working on the final painting, I did revert back to my old ways of working as described. So even through the sketches weren’t really useful to this painting in a direct way, they do force me to get some extra painting practice in. I’m not sure if I will continue to do this as a habit or not. My way — and I’m definitely not saying this is a virtue — is to just get in there and put the paint on, and not agonize too much on meeting a predetermined objective.

As I worked on the painting, I was concentrating on creating the shapes that are formed by spaces within the veins/cracks rather than painting the lines that form their boundaries. I also wanted a layering effect and not something with a direct reference to the source. But it was lacking something, and so I put in the white lines. This made it more lively, but the end product reads more like tree roots than leaf veins, which was not my intention. This happened as I started putting in shading to make different areas stand out and it became dimensional.

As far as the final painting, I think I’m not really satisfied with the colors. They seem too vivid for my taste. If I get inspired, I might go back and muddy things up a little.

xxxxx, 48 x 48 inches, acrylic on canvas. ©2008 Deidre Adams.

Over the last several months, I had been busy making some new paintings at school, in my Painting III class. The first two were on display in the school library for a couple of months, so I didn’t have anything to post about. I got everything home at the end of the semester and have now finally gotten around to photographing the work. I’ll put them all up in the next couple of posts.

The is the first one. The assignment was to do an “objective landscape,” which means paint more or less what you see, with limited artistic license. We were supposed to go around and photograph an urban scene rather than some pastoral meadow or the like. “Yes indeed,” said I. “Right up my alley!” Although I did go out and take a lot of new photos, I settled on this one that I had taken on an earlier road trip. This is a grain elevator in Sterling, Colorado. For the moment, I am stymied on what to call it, hence the “xxxx.” I welcome suggestions, as I’m not feeling particularly creative in the titling department at the moment.

Here’s the source photo I was working from:

Sterling, Colorado. ©2007 Deidre Adams

I was drawn by the warm late-afternoon light on the left sides of the buildings contrasting with the coolness of the facing sides. As you can see, I did take some liberties with it. My initial inclination was to leave out the power lines to make it cleaner, but my painting instructor convinced me to keep them in, which was great advice. It would have been super dull without them. I discovered a way of working with the paint in a sort of scumbling method that gave me a layering of color that I really like. I can envision doing a whole series of these from different photos.

Self-portrait, 36 x 36, ©2007 Deidre Adams

As mentioned in an earlier post, the self-portrait is a very common assignment for art school studio classes. This is one that I did in Painting II last fall. The direction called for making a “psychological” self-portrait. Despite my tendency to agonize over these things and want to read in more than is really there, I do think this came out pretty good and so I use it as a kind of signature image here on the blog and in other places when needed.

If you’re not super-comfortable with your appearance, it can be rather disconcerting to have to stare at your own face for long periods of time. It does help to do it from a photo rather than a mirror, because after awhile it just becomes shapes and values that you are trying to reproduce in a painting, and you can stop obsessing about the strangeness of it. I was working from a printed version of the image below, which I created by montaging a photo I took with a self-timer together with a photo of the side of a train car & a pencil drawing of a quilting pattern from my sketchbook.

You can see that I didn’t get the eyes & eyebrows quite right, but I was very absorbed in thinking about the colors and having fun with the brushwork, and I was not too concerned with making a perfect copy.

This self-portrait shows a big improvement over the one I did in Painting I, which I’m only showing here (left) very tiny because it is so Lame (yes, with a capital “L”).

It was just about this time two years ago that I decided I wanted to go back to school and get a BFA. I had been making art for some time, more or less self taught except for a couple of drawing and painting classes I had taken as electives while working on other degrees, along with my coursework in graphic design. I was pretty happy with what I was doing – lots of photography, as I had done ever since my parents gave me my first camera as a child, some watercolor painting here and there, as well as my growing body of work in art quilts. I had taken several workshops in the fiber world, covering such things as improvisational piecing, fabric dyeing, machine stitching, etc. But I felt that something was missing.

So in late December of 2005, I was just spending a little time looking around on the Internet, and on a whim I decided to check out the art program at Metro State, the school at which I had earned my previous degree, Computer Information Systems & Management Science, in 1990. And once I saw that I already had most of the core classes and would only need the art classes, I decided to take the plunge and register for the upcoming spring semester. And that was it – I was a student again.

I’ve noticed that there is something of a controversy surrounding this topic. Some will say that a formal art education stifles creativity, or forces you to fit into a predetermined mold. Some art school graduates seem to feel that their experience was perhaps negative in some ways, while many self-taught artists wear the label like a badge of honor. My feeling is that you have to do what’s right for your own particular situation. For me, there have been both good and bad things about every class I’ve taken so far. While some of them seemed rather tedious or overlapped other classes from the past, I’ve learned something from each one, and the discipline provided from having to turn things in on a regular basis has forced me to go faster than I might do on my own.

I took my first watercolor class way back in 1986 when I was working on an AS in business at the local community college. Then I took Painting I in 1998, but it was on an audit basis, and so it doesn’t count for my new requirements and I had to take it again in the spring of 2007. But I didn’t go in thinking I already knew everything, and it turns out I learned a lot about how to paint, and how to see, as much from just doing it as anything else.

Here’s the results of the first assignment in that class:

Mike’s Cash Store
24 x 36 inches ©2006

The assignment was to copy a photograph in black and white to learn to see value. Here’s the photo I started with:

This is an abandoned storefront in Velarde, New Mexico. I drive by this place a couple of times a year on my way to Albuquerque to visit family. I’ve always wondered what the story is here. What happened on the day the owners finally decided to give up and shut the place down? Why is that chair just sitting there as though someone got up for a quick second to go get something out back, but will be coming back any minute?

To make the copy, you draw a grid on your photo, then you draw a proportionally enlarged grid on your canvas. It’s easier to figure out where everything goes when all you are responsible for is one square at a time, and you’re not just lost at sea on a huge blank surface. The photo had a bit of distortion in the perspective, which I tried to straighten out a little in the painting, but it’s obvious that it’s not perfect in a lot of places – the back of the chair really stands out as much too wide and strangely angled.

We were not allowed to use any black out of the tube; it had to be mixed from ultramarine blue & burnt sienna. If you didn’t make enough the first time and had to mix up more, it was challenging to get the new batch to match the temperature of the original one. This assignment was great practice in working with value (it’s all relative, baby!) and in reproducing textures. I had a lot of trouble with the bricks and and the weathered plywood. But it was also fun, and came out not too bad, I think.