Working from Life

It's not often you find me in the picture, and even rarer to find me and my model in the same picture. At least it gives you an idea of our working arrangement. 

My model is seated on a large revolving turntable with a neutral canvas backdrop. I keep my materials to the bare minimum: no more than a dozen tubes of colour, a No.12 sable brush and a 20" x 16" sheet of paper. A heavy duty photographer's tripod serves as my easel and allows the drawing board to be tilted in all directions - just as the turntable allows me to turn my model in all directions.  

I don't have the time or inclination to stretch my paper beforehand. I work rapidly and leave my washes to take care of themselves. Seldom do more than twenty minutes pass from start to finish of a painting and all the better if I can catch my subject in ten!

You can learn more about my painting techniques in the serialization of my book Notes on the Nude.

Painting, poetry and prose

Many artists claim that words are superfluous and that their paintings say it all. Perhaps for some it is so. However, in my attempt to portray the sensuous beauty of the nude I often resort to adding poetry and prose. 

Some years ago one of my models expressed the relationship of all three in a poem that began:  

When the painter and the poet combine,
Each searching for that illusive line,
That only a true lover can define,
Tis then they find their hearts entwine.

I might add that a similar synergy exists between painter and model. It is one that I was conscious of today as I worked on the following three paintings of Collean. 

Thank you Collean. You were inspirational!

Tuning Up

Just as musicians tune up their instruments before a performance and athletes limber up before a race, as a watercolourist I put down trial lines and throw down washes of colour on a scrap of paper before beginning the real thing - as you can see in the above picture. These initial preparations are all the more necessary when I've spent over a year writing rather than painting. 

This week Naomi and Collean came to my studio together, just as they did when they first modelled for me over five years ago. If you go to page 41 in the serialization of my book Notes on the Nude you will see across the bottom of the page an early painting of Naomi. Collean's first painting will be featured later in my book. The one I did of her this week is shown below.

The intervening five years have seen the blossoming of Collean. She is no longer the shy and reserved young lady that I first knew but a charming and confident model with considerable potential. She has an interest and talent for art and I invited her to watch me as I worked on my painting of Naomi. 

I am sometimes at my best when demonstrating my technique and this painting is a case in point. Collean followed my every line and brush stroke with rapped attention. I often talk to myself when painting but it is better when there is someone looking over my shoulder and benefiting from what I am saying...

...Before I begin I'm looking for one line with which I can tie the figure together. I'm going for the line that runs along the left leg, outlines the sensuous contour of the pudendum and terminates with the rhythmic curves of the breasts . From this line I can then add the rest. I am keeping the initial drawing to the bare minimum and, working with a No 14 brush, allowing the colour washes freedom to fill out the form. First, we will find the lights in the skin tones and then work our way back towards the dark. One brush stroke suggests the left arm and hand. We are not counting fingers. Let's stop right there. We've said all that needs to be said. The viewer can add the rest...

The paintings measure 20" x 24" and from start to finish each one was completed in less than thirty minutes. Or more accurately I should say that each one took me over sixty years!

Breaking the ice

This week I finally got around to meeting a new influx of potential models. At the end of a preliminary studio visit they have the option to go away and think about it or do a brief trial session there and then. Most opt for the latter. The purpose of the fifteen minute trial session is not so much a finished painting but the breaking of ice both for myself and the aspiring model. Today's painting is of Lyann's introductory session. 

Two of my potential models - twin sisters - told my that their introductory session gave them confidence in themselves. A feeling that is shared by all of my models. To learn more about how I work with models go the the serialization of my book Notes on the Nude.

This week brought a press release from the Christian Union Churches of Dominica expressing concern about what they perceive to be increasing public nudity. I responded as follows:

In many so-called primitive societies, the sexual experience is expressed - and released - in drama and dance. Conversely; indoctrination, taboos, prohibition and censorship focus on the sexual component of sexuality and the guilt implied can have deplorable social consequences. From an early age we are taught that the nude body is a shameful thing, whereas in fact it is the most natural and beautiful thing in the world.

I believe that the creative arts can serve as a moderator and liberator on these issues, just as they did in earlier times.

Alas, my comment didn't go down too well, with most readers in disagreement. 

Sea Grapes and Butterflies

Whether it be a sketch, a painting or a piece of sculpture, each begin as a love affair. I have to feel passionately about the subject. 

The above image is a page from a sketch book of thirty years ago. I remember well wandering over Peter Island in the British Virgin Islands, searching for grand subjects for a commission of paintings for the American billionaire Richard DeVos. The grand subject evaded me, but in its place I jotted down the romance of sea grapes and butterflies that I stumbled upon. 

The sketch below follows a similar theme: the painting never materialised, but the sketch says it all. As with making love, a painting cannot be made to order. Nor can it be made to a precise rule. Better the seeming disorder of a sketch than the boredom of a laboured painting. I have more to say on this theme in my book Notes on the Nude.  

Five hundred years ago the poet Robert Herrick (1591-1764) expressed the same in his poem Delight in Disorder. 
  

          A winning wave, deserving note, 

          In the tempestuous petticoat... 

          Do more bewitch me, than when art 

          Is too precise in every part.

    And on the subject of butterflies, I give you a choice between two classic versions of Poor Butterfly. Sarah Vaughan from sixty years ago and Cecile McLorin Salvant of today.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0M_fun2wy7g

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZ_F_potBug&list=RDAZ_F_potBug&start_radio=1&t=106