There’s time for me yet

Louise Bourgeois, whose twenty-foot spider was the show piece at the opening of the Tate Modern, didn’t find fame until she was in her eighties. At 73 in a few days’ time, there’s time for me yet!

Has luck would have it; I can’t rest on my laurels. Yes, I’ve had a few successes along the way, yet nothing to get complacent about. I still haven’t achieved the vision that haunts my mind’s eye. But I’m still working on it. With my water colours of the female nude I feel that I am almost there and if I can allow my sculptural figures the same freedom...who knows?

I write this with a glass of rum in my hand at the end of a hard working day. Perhaps, as Charles Morris (1745-1838) recommended in his poem The Toper’s Apology, I’ll fill my glass again.

“Tis by the glow my bumper gives

Life’s picture’s mellow made;

The fading light then brightly lives

And softly sinks the shade;

Some happier tint still rises there,

With every drop I drain –

And that I think’s a reason fair

To fill my glass again.

My muse, too, when her wings are dry

No frolic flight will take;

But round a bowl she’ll dip and fly

Like swallows round a lake.

Then if the nymph will have her share

Before she’ll bless her swain –

Why that I think’s a reason fair

To fill my glass again.

It is not often that I’m in the picture, but here I am contemplating the molds for the torso.

Transformation

Following on from yesterday's post, today’s picture shows the transformation from clay to plaster. What you are seeing is the waste mold being chipped away from the plaster cast. The initial “flicked” coloured layer acts as an early a warning device. It tells you that you are within a faction of an inch to cast.

So far, so good: a near perfect cast!

Take the shoes from off thy feet

When working from the nude I keep in mind the biblical quotation: Take the shoes from off thy feet for the ground you are about to step upon is Holy Ground.

Here, given life, is the final clay sketch for Annabelle’s half-life-size reclining figure.  

Working at the speed of light

While searching through old press cuttings I came across an article by the Sunday Times art critic, Waldemar Januszczak titled, “Working at the Speed of Light”. In the article he gives credit to the artists who paint fast; among them, Michelangelo.

I first realized a speedy brush stroke…to be a true guide to an artist’s talent…when I had a chance to examine Michelangelo’s handiwork on the Sistine ceiling from close up during the chapel’s restoration…It was the speed of his brush strokes that amazed me…In the scene of God creating the earth, the world and its vegetation was the work of seconds. Adam’s famous penis was traced with a single cocky outline. All over the ceiling there were astonishing displays of painting at breakneck speed. Never have I seen clearer evidence of artistic genius.

The entanglement of lips, arms, breasts and hands in today’s painting was thrown down just before Annabelle had to rush to catch a bus home. After an hour of holding the reclining pose for her sculpture, the sweet release of rolling over signaled the end of the session. But, as often happens, it’s the rolling over that reveals a transitionary position that cannot be contrived. When I catch that illusive moment out of the corner of my eye, I beg my model to hold it right there and give me time to work at the speed of light.

Now you can run for your bus!

Behind the scenes

Between clay and cast, there is lot that goes on unseen behind the scenes. Today’s pictures give you an idea in what is involved in taking a mold from the clay torso.

The mold is called a waste mold and for good reason. It is a one-off and must be finally broke into a thousand fragments to release the subsequent plaster master cast. The steps are as follows:

(1) Brass shims are inserted into the clay to give the necessary divisions. In this case, a three piece mold.

(2) Fine Casting Plaster, mixed to the consistency of cream, is them flicked over the clay. The process is achieved by dipping a hand into a bowl of plaster and flicking with the fingers. The process has not changed since the time of Michelangelo. This layer of plaster is no more than a quarter of an inch thick. It is tinted for reasons that will become clear later down the line.

(3) A thicker layer of plaster is then troweled over the figure, level with the shims. Steel reinforcing rods are added to give extra strength.

(4) When the plaster is fully cured, hard wood wedges are driving into the seams to separate the mold.

                       

                       

 The above may sound easy but three days of skilled work is involved. There are scores of intricacies at each step. If anything goes wrong, all is lost. Up to a hundred years ago sculptural mold making was a specialized trade unto itself.

The final picture shows the front section of the mold immediately on removal from the clay. The surface clay is dragged with the mold and hence lost in the process.

A blow-by-blow account of casting the master plaster cast from the waste mold will follow in later posts.

It’s good to be back

It’s good to be back to painting, even though it was for only the last fifteen minutes of today’s sculpture session. After struggling for over an hour on the half size clay sketch of Annabelle’s reclining figure, I called a halt and said r-e-l-a-x! This Annabelle did with her usual aplomb and here is the result: a transitional moment of glorious stretching. If only I could express the same spontaneity in my sculptures!

Just before today’s session a text message from Annabelle read: is it okay if my mom sits in on the session? My reply: yes, yes, yes, that will be wonderful. And you know what?  It was! And mom is the spitting image of her daughter. I now look forward to one day painting mother and daughter.

Enough is enough

Today’s pictures show my two works in progress. The first is a detail from the life-size torso and the second from the half life-size reclining figure.

With both, I’m tempted to call a halt right there. To add more would be to take away. I’ve said all that can be said. Enough is enough!

A visible voice

A word of advice that I give to art students is: if you’ve nothing to say, go into banking or some other pursuit. Throughout history, painters, poets, writers and musicians have made their voice heard. This is why, under dictatorship, artists are the first to be censored.

Over the years I have tried not to let the side down. My campaigns have ranged from protecting the rights of a child to the built environment. My latest crusade concerns the re-housing of the hundreds of Dominicans made homeless from Tropical Storm Erica. You will find my commentary at the following link:

http://dominicanewsonline.com/news/homepage/features/commentary/commentary-relocating-a-rural-community-to-a-town-setting/

A woman undressing

This two -minute thumbnail sketch dates back to 2009 and shows my wife Denise undressing before modelling.

The sculptor Auguste Rodin is quoted as saying: A woman undressing… is like the sun breaking through the clouds.

In a similar vein, the American writer Francis Warrington Dawson claimed: The nude alone is well dressed.

I experience a similar revelation when I strip my clay figures of the protective polythene wrap that keeps them moist between modelling sessions.

This morning mist from the mountains kept the clay moist while, in poor light, I began work on Marcella’s left hand.

Bringing down the curtain

At today’s modelling session Marcella’s torso quite literally brought down the curtain. The curtain in question being the neutral canvas backdrop that I judge my models against. One gust of from the tropical trade winds and it was gone! But my models are made of tough stuff and I doubt if a hurricane would deter them.

For the sculptor, every bit of the human anatomy poses a challenge. I feel sure that God is saying: So you think it is easy doing what I do. Today’s picture shows work in progress.

Where to start and when to finish

It is the beginning and the end of a painting that determines its worth. The start should set down a predominant line that arrests the artist and links the principal features. In today’s painting that line worked its way along Annabelle’s right arm, silhouetted her breasts and ran down her outstretched leg.

I made a good start but then forgot: it is not what you put into a painting but what you leave out! It was a sultry afternoon, my model had drifted to sleep and I was lulled into painting on and on. As a result, each additional brush stroke diminished, rather than added to, my initial vision.

Nevertheless, today’s painting came as a bonus. This afternoon’s session was really set aside for working on the sculpture of Annabelle’s reclining figure. After an hour, the sheer mental exhaustion placing one addition of clay against another caused me to call a halt. It was then that my model rolled over and the painting came about.

Work in progress on my reclining figure

Depicting three dimensions in two

Three dimensional sculpture does not fare well when viewed as a two dimensional photographic image. The eye is arrested and barred from roaming over the form. However, by the very fact that the image is fixed, a photograph serves as an excellent device for revealing flaws. Incorrect proportions and imbalance become glaringly obvious. A mirror image has the same effect.

By the same argument, a photograph can never substitute for the live model. But in the early stages it can help to refresh the model’s memory. Until the sculpture is well developed it can be surprisingly difficult to remember from one week to the next if an arm or leg rested this way or that.

Today’s picture of work in progress on Marcella’s torso is a case in point. My model has slightly deviated from her original pose. The left arm is now drawn closer to the spine and the wrist falls more comfortably on her bottom. I like the effect and I am tempted to keep it.

PS

Down the side-bar you will find excerpts from my first on-line diary. It was published before the days of blogs and my brother – who regularly burned the night-night oil setting it up the hard way - says that it can lay claim to being the world’s first blog.

When I can find time I will add a section for notable quotes from artists past and present.

Pixels and praise

Regular follows of my diary will notice a new header and improved layout. The first features my model Annabelle and second was made possible by a juggling of pixels by my daughter Tania.

The praise comes by way of the painting that I gave Annabelle for her birthday present and featured in my diary on June 1st. Her mum insists that it takes pride and place in their living room. Had it been chosen to hang in the National Gallery, I could not have felt more flattered.

Today’s session included a fifteen minute painting and the start of the clay sketch for Annabelle’s sculpture.

Tame in comparison to Rodin

Today’s image shows work in progress on my torso of Marcella. Despite all of my efforts to resist finish, it is tame beside how Camille Lemonnier (1844-1913), Belgian, writer, poet and journalist, describes one of Rodin’s sculptures:

At the Maison d’Art there is a torso that seems to have been spewed out from the furnaces of Gomorrah. It has been savagely torn and splayed the way a fissure in the earth cracks open, as though a crucible were exploding in its depths...

Ennui

Ennui: a mental weariness due to lack of interest or occupation.  

Between painting, sculpture, engineering and suggesting improvements to the island’s sewage treatment plant, that’s one affliction that I don’t have!

My return to sculpture has been enthusiastically received by my models. In addition to Marcella’s torso I am now preparing for a reclining figure of Annabelle. Here is the preliminary sketch together with a sheet of measurements that will help me build up the initial clay form before we begin modelling in earnest.

Today is Annabelle’s birthday and it also marks four years that she has been my ever faithful model. This, one of her favourite paintings, is her present.  

Before it’s too late

Ten years ago I wrote: I now want to give my sculptures the freedom of my sketches.

Before it’s too late, I want to achieve that objective. With that in mind I have begun work on a life size torso in which the model has her hands clasped behind her back. I will resist defining goose-bumps and instead allow the clay to remain as a suggestive sketch.  

The picture below is of the belly down to the thighs. It was taken after the first modelling session and I am resisting refining it further. An earlier charcoal sketch of a similar pose gives you an idea of what I am after in the final form.

The difference being

For every nude that is depicted in paint there must be ten thousand photographed. Unless a new generation of artists take courage and work with the nude, beyond the life class, I fear that we will lose a thread that has been there throughout history.

I say this, not to demean the work of the fine art photographer but to draw attention to the differences between the two. Regardless of how the photographic image is manipulated it retains an inherent definitive resemblance and to use a darkroom term, it is “fixed”. In contrast, a painting can leave a lot to the imagination and invite the viewer to contribute to the creative process.

To illustrate my point I have delved back into my archives for this photograph that was posted on May 29^th 2011 under the title “This way or that”.

Now compare the photograph with a recent painting posted on March 24^th 2016 under the title “Improvisations”. The models are different (the photograph is of my wife Denise and the painting is of my model Annabelle) but the pose almost is the same!

From one extreme to another

Just as Leonardo da Vinci was distracted from painting in his old age by being called upon for his engineering expertise, the greater part of my week has been spent as an engineer making improvements to the island’s sewage treatment plant.   

But this afternoon, with the help of my ever faithful model Annabelle, I went from one extreme to another and painted with a vengeance. As always, I leave space for you the viewer to contribute your share to the creative process. Annabelle’s judgement, sent by a text message on her way home, reads as follows:

While I slept you got three paintings…you are awesome!

Here is painting number three; a 20” x 16” water colour thrown down in the last fifteen minutes of the session.

Sprezzatura

Definition: Sprezzatura…A certain nonchalance that makes art appear to be without thought or effort.

E. H. Gombrich’s book Art & Illusion is a definitive study in the psychology of pictorial representation. The book has sat on my shelf for years but only recently have I given it the in-depth attention that it deserves. In particular the book delves into my obsession of suggestion rather than definition.

I quote:

It is an art in which the painter’s skill in suggesting must be matched by the public’s skill in taking hints. The literal-minded Philistine is excluded from this closed circle. He does not understand the magic of “sprezzatura” because he has not learned to use his own imagination to project. He lacks the appropriate mental set to recognize in the loose brushstrokes of a ‘careless work’ the images intended by the artist; least of all is he able to appreciate the secret skill and cunning which hide behind this lack of finish.

One of my paintings of Jessica from two years ago illustrates the point. It took seventy-three years of thought and effort for it to appear to be without thought or effort. 

Faded photographs

Faded photographs…memories in bits and pieces

My brother has just posted a photograph of me on his blog, http://newsfromnowhere1948.blogspot.com/ and wonders, by way of an open letter, if I remember it being taken.

Well, I sure do. It is of me painting fishing boats at Ballyhack on the Waterford Estuary in Southern Ireland. The year is 1972.  I still have the painting and here it is along with the photograph.

Once in a while

Search as I might, I seldom find a new talent in painting that really turns me on. But once in a while I find a refreshingly new talent in jazz. 

Just when I was thinking that there will never be another Sarah Vaughan, this young lady comes along.

Every one of Cecile McLorin Salvant’s recordings is a masterpiece. I selected this particular video track because I am attracted to work in progress; in this case a recording session. Credit is also due to her remarkable trio.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmQbC5TYFM4

Incidentally, the song is from Finian's Rainbow and the lyrics are equally masterful.

Against all odds

Mosquitoes and failing light conspired against me. But even under the best of circumstances, a successful water-colour is accomplished against all odds. The unintentional contributes more than the intentional. Without a mosquito to swat, the model's hand would not have been positioned across her thigh. And it is around the hand that the composition revolves.

As always, I’m working on a large scale (20” x 16”) and my washes are thrown down in a matter of minutes.  

The sweet enchantment of a rose

He who has known the heights and depths,

Cannot again know piece.

Not as the calm heart knows;

Low ivied walls, a garden close,

The sweet enchantment of a rose.

As I sit pondering the vicissitudes of working from the live model, I glance from my studio, a rose.

If only I could have remained content with painting landscapes and townscapes, how much easier life would be. Flowers, trees and buildings are there at my calling, whereas sessions with my muse - my model - have to be scheduled in advance.

One of my most faithful muses is presently working a seventy hour week at her day job. The only advantage of her heavy work schedule is that when she can fit in a fit a modelling session, she instantly falls asleep. For an hour I can paint without concern for her comfort, as she’s obviously very comfortable.

But for today, I have to content myself with the sweet enchantment of the rose.

A thousand words

To make up the worth of a picture here are a thousand words.

I wrote this commentary last October in response to a University of the West Indies lecture by Professor Hazel Simmons-McDonald. The speaker highlighted the importance of the Creole language in terms of preserving Dominica’s cultural identity.  Whilst supporting a case for preserving the Creole language - and by extension Creole dance, music and dress - I consider that one significant aspect of Dominica’s cultural identity is being largely ignored: that being, the built environment.

Throughout life we are confronted with man-made surroundings.  Increasingly, our houses, offices and public buildings reflect a foreign influence.  Their design and material of construction does not relate to the local environment.  Regimented housing is replacing scattered settlements.  Hence, Dominica’s visible identity is being eroded.  It follows that the individuality of places reflects the individuality of ourselves. 

Villages and townships tend to grow of their own accord over a long period of time.  There was seldom a pre-determined master plan.  The people and their dwellings fitted into the topography of the land: they had to, because in earlier times there was no heavy earth moving equipment to make significant changes.  When these settlements are viewed from the air or on a map, it seems that our forefathers had a great contempt of straight lines and regularity!   

It is the higgledy-piggledy nature of these country communities that gives them their distinctive appearance and attributes.  Not least of these attributes is yard space.  Dominica’s sparse population in relation to landmass allows yard space that is the envy of city dwellers throughout the rest of the world.  The yard is the family’s domain.  It acts as outdoor extension to the house and a breathing space between neighbours.

Dominica has all the natural resources to sustain and promote a vernacular built environment.  What is needed is the revival of necessary skills.  Take a look at the old wrought iron balcony supports in Roseau and compare them with the shoddy welded fabrications of today.  A skilled craftsman cannot be trained in six weeks, let alone six years.  It is not just a case of wielding a hammer or pushing a plane, it is the accumulation of knowledge that is handed down from father to son.  The great cathedrals from the past were not designed at the drawing board by architects but by craftsman at the workbench. Thus, the craftsman’s eye becomes a gauge to measure beauty by.

The built environment is particularly relevant at this point in time.  Tropical Storm Erika has destroyed whole villages and displaced hundreds of families.  Just as you cannot easily uproot a tree that has been growing for a lifetime and re-plant it in a new location; the same difficulty applies to re-settling a community of people.  It is one thing to re-locate one by one, in one’s own time and inclination, be it to the next village or to a foreign land.  But it is quite another for whole communities to be faced with an unforeseen immediate need to move and leave everything behind.

But a community is not made up of houses alone.  Numerous other elements are needed to sustain life. They range from church to rum shop and from school to the village store.  Not least is the means of employment and preferably employment within walking distance from home.  In the past these elements came together of their own accord over a period of time.  To instantly plan a township is an art form in itself.  Interestingly, the man who wrote the definitive book on the subject began his working life in the Caribbean.  The book, The Concise Townscape by Gordon Cullen, should be required reading by all involved in the re-settlement initiative.  Another book that has relevance, is News from Nowhere by William Morris.  His vision of utopia was set down over a hundred years ago and deemed to be “pie in the sky”.   However, at this point in time, the book could be considered as a viable blue-print for Dominica.

Incidentally, it is interesting to speculate how Dominican’s would have coped with the aftermath of the storm had it occurred eighty years ago.  I suspect that every man, woman and child would have immediately started re-building with the resources at hand, albeit initially thatch and gaultry.  In doing so they would have been putting into practice a line from Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If”:

                     If you can…watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

                     And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

In all of this I am not advocating that we return to the dark ages.  As an engineer I embrace technology and as an artist, I believe that all work should be creative and pleasurable.  Equally, our man-made environment should reflect our individuality and be pleasing to the eye, whether it be the chair we sit upon or the house we live in. 

The re-building from Tropical Storm Erika could be a first step towards the restatement of Dominica’s visible cultural identity and in turn set a benchmark for the rest of the Caribbean. 

I can't leave you without a picture, so to illustrate the above here is a drawing from my book “Caribbean Sketches”

Ineligible Art

An art organization in the United States is currently calling for submissions that depict the urban landscape. I don’t normally go in for this kind of thing but I thought: what the heck, the prize is tempting.

On delving into my past portfolios I found a painting that I made twenty years ago of Barclay’s Bank, Halifax, UK. It was exhibited along with 30 other paintings and drawings on the theme of my old home town. It didn’t sell then and it has had no better luck the second time around. 

I have just been informed that my painting is ineligible; not because the subject, but because of the artist. I am not resident in the United States!

Improvisations

My approach to painting is akin to that of a jazz musician. I work around a known theme, more often than not, the nude human form. As with a lover, my paintings are not meant to reveal all their secrets at the first glance. I paint 70% of the picture; the rest is up to you to interpret in whatever way you choose.

Today’s painting of Annabelle was completed in about the time it took Sarah Vaughan to develop similar subtle nuances in her recording of My Funny Valentine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dntaJEqH9IM

The detail illustrates how lines and washes respond if given freedom

Super awesome

My task as an artist is to arouse others, in the hope that they arouse me.

When excitement takes hold, the viewer’s response is usually couched in simple and direct language. I’ve had a conservative businessman confess that he was gob-smacked on first seeing my work. Wow is a frequent exclamation and a confession of love is a close second.

A couple of days ago when I suggested to one of my models the possibility of modelling for a piece of sculpture, her e-mailed response was, OMG that sounds super awesome. Yes, I’d love to do that.

For almost two years I’ve put sculpture on a slow back burner and kept my paintings up front on the fast burner. My water colours are spontaneous whereas a piece of sculpture takes months to come to fruition.

While I ponder over the super awesome possibility of returning to my work as a sculptor, I’ll leave you with a recent painting of Tashani.

Vagina don’t come cheap

A pitfall that I am anxious to avoid was summed up by the poet Dylan Thomas when he wrote: Somebody’s boring me. I think it’s me. 

My concern is not so much boring myself but boring those who view my work. After all, the nude is the nude is the nude, and there’s limit to the ways my models can stand, sit, recline or whatever.

A number of my models are accomplished poets and this evening some will be on stage for my friend Shawna’s poetry extravaganza, Lyrics under the Stars. It was from one of Shawna’s shows a couple of years ago that I take my title. It is Karmarsha’s brilliant poem that gives advice to young ladies and cautions young men. From that you might guess that this evening’s performances will be anything but boring.

If you think that I’m in danger of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, I’ll stop right there. But for once I’ll skip painting and illustrate this page with a photograph I took of the frying pan that cooked my daughter’s breakfast omelet a couple of mornings ago. 

Groping towards the light

Most people grope in the dark but my groping is done in the light, with my eyes and mind wide open. 

What I am looking for are new ways to suggest the beauty of the nude. My task is made all the more difficult through two self-imposed limitations: first, working large format in watercolour and second, capturing my subject in a matter of minutes. The only way that I can break through to new ground is by covering a lot of ground: hence, painting after painting. The adage holds true: if it was any easier everyone would do it, if it was any more difficult no one would!

The fact that an ever increasing number of followers throughout the world stay with me, year in, year out, at least means that my attempts are not boring them to death.

The paintings below are from yesterday’s sessions, the first in the morning with Tashani, the second in the afternoon with Annabelle.  

A Revolution in Human Beauty

The latest release from modelsociety.com carries these words by Lisa Everhart

All around the world a revolution is brewing, one born in the heart, carried forward by the longing of the human spirit in search of truth. The models, photographers and artists of Model Society are fueling this revolution of honoring the humanity of all people as intrinsically beautiful. Creative minds help us wake up from fear and prejudice as they compel us to look within and see ourselves in a new light. To the artist who dreams of a more beautiful world, there is no choice but to stand for what is right, good and unalienable.

We invite you to cast aside your fears and prejudices, opening your heart to the miraculous beauty of humanity. Reclaim your experience of human beauty. See yourself as a work of art, and join us in this revolution.

The vision of Model Society heralds a renaissance in the appreciation of the human figure.  True to the meaning and spirit of renaissance, it is a re-birth.  Centuries ago artists and sculptors paid homage to the beauty of the human form.

Today’s picture is of a relief on the balustrade round the Temple of Victory in Athens.  It dates from 408 BC and depicts one of the goddesses momentarily stooping to fasten a loosened sandal.  Although sadly mutilated, the figure that is revealed beneath gossamer drapery remains as sensual today as when it was conceived.