DOLLAR AUCTION WEEK -- 1 NEW WORK, 2 AUCTIONS DAILY
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Showing posts with label California art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label California art. Show all posts
Monday, June 24, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
DOLLAR AUCTION WEEK: "Mill and Mountain"
DOLLAR AUCTION WEEK -- 1 NEW WORK, 2 AUCTIONS DAILY
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Wednesday, February 17, 2010
"Our Trees, Autumn"
"Our Trees, Autumn" -- 20" x 16" -- Oil
"Color, composition, and lush paint were my focus as I painted." --- SFG
WORK IN PROGRESS:
I based the painting on this photo taken in New Hampshire several years ago and Sergei Bongart's painting titled "Fall in Idaho, Kievtshina". Those of you who have his book may recognize it.
As I drew on the canvas with thinned paint, I was careful with the placement of the large tree since it dominates the painting. It would have been easy, but a big mistake, to place it in the middle. I needed something to come forward so I used the fence shadows, the curve of the driveway, and the mass at the lower right.
I shaped the dark masses, joining those I could and varying the greens from near-blues to reddish. I usually try to keep the color on the warm side in foliage since light filtering through a forest has many warm tones.
Here, I've added the hill in the background. Notice how important the abstract shapes are. They balance the painting and move the viewer's eye around. I did this very assertively. PAINT FEARLESSLY!
Always go for the big shapes. That large tree is not just a bunch of leaves that add up to a tree.
Now the canvas is covered with big shapes and clear value changes. From here to completion, I won't be painting a place. I'll be making a painting.
My palette at this point shows how I compare my colors as I mix them, keeping the lights together and the darks together, the warms together and the cools together. I didn't even think about it as I was mixing. It has become habit after all these years.
As I start to add details and accents, I decided that the repetitious fence shadows trapped the eye too much.
That's better in the foreground. I also decided to break the roofline of the shed by placing a tree in front of it. In the final version, shown at the top of this post, you'll see a few changes I made after I had signed it. I reshaped the top of the largest tree and broke the small but strong horizontal of the weeds in front of the shed. It attracted too much attention.
Friday, March 13, 2009
"Sierra October"
"Sierra October" - Oil - 16" x 20" - $350
"This beautiful mountain scene is on the east side of the Sierras near Bishop,
California. Skiers may pass it as they travel to Mammoth, California. It was a
little early for skiing, but breathtaking, nonetheless." --- SFG
NOTE TO ARTISTS: I often use cloud shadows to create a workable composition and
lead the eye to the focal point. The S-curve is another common device that
works, but shouldn't be too obvious.
lead the eye to the focal point. The S-curve is another common device that
works, but shouldn't be too obvious.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
"November in McCloud"
"November in McCloud" - Oil - 11" x 14" - $400
"A cool autumn day rendered this view of an alley in the charming town of McCloud, California. The glowing light set off this delicate color harmony that enhanced the fall colors. There are countless subjects for painters along the alley way such as old garages, tool sheds, wood sheds or wood piles, varied fencing, trash cans, and a delightful jumble of varied shapes and objects." --- SFG
"A cool autumn day rendered this view of an alley in the charming town of McCloud, California. The glowing light set off this delicate color harmony that enhanced the fall colors. There are countless subjects for painters along the alley way such as old garages, tool sheds, wood sheds or wood piles, varied fencing, trash cans, and a delightful jumble of varied shapes and objects." --- SFG
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
"Conversation in the Alley"
"Conversation in the Alley" - Oil - 11" x 14" - $400
"McCloud is a small lumber town near Mt. Shasta in beautiful northern California. People often forget this part of California, but that's the way people in McCloud like it. Since the mill has closed, McCloud has become a hideaway for city dwellers who enjoy small town history and friendliness. Since the garages are often located on the alleys, friends meet and catch up there." --- SFG
"McCloud is a small lumber town near Mt. Shasta in beautiful northern California. People often forget this part of California, but that's the way people in McCloud like it. Since the mill has closed, McCloud has become a hideaway for city dwellers who enjoy small town history and friendliness. Since the garages are often located on the alleys, friends meet and catch up there." --- SFG
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Be the Tiger Woods of Painting!
Be the Tiger Woods of Painting !
Hearing the news accounts of last weekend’s action at the US Open golf tournament, I began to speculate on the remarkable abilities of golfer Tiger Woods. I related these thoughts to an article on memory that I read recently in Smithsonian magazine. In it, the authorities stated that your “how to” memory is stored in a different location in the brain from short- or long-term memory. All of my conclusions were purely my own and may not hold up to informed scrutiny, but I’m not one to immediately disqualify an opinion just because it’s made by a non-expert.
Woods’ familiar story relates how he began swinging a golf club as a very young child, just when I’m told that neural pathways are connecting. If something interferes with the properly timed connect-up of those pathways, like psychological trauma or illness, the opportunity is lost forever. The unfortunate individual may have to search out another way of accomplishing the skill or task for which he was meant to use that synapse or, perhaps, will never master it. Probably, he will be unaware of “something missing” other than a vague consciousness that X is more difficult for him than Y.
Conversely, it stands to reason, in my mind at least, that if the child, by luck or destiny, is motivated to practice a skill at precisely the time when his body is developing the miraculous, shining cobweb that links his body and his mind, extraordinary things can happen.
Applying these thoughts to the subject of art and making art, what would happen if a child were drawing – from direct observation, of course – when this miracle took place? Would he become a draftsman equal to Nicholi Fechin? If he were playing with color, would he equal Sergei Bongart? Are destinies such as these set that early in one’s life? If the moment is missed, is the opportunity lost forever?
Hopefully not. Accounts of stunning recoveries of brain-injured patients abound and credit is given to retraining the brain to use a detour. Though not always as easy or graceful as the original method, the magnificent human brain is able to accommodate in incredible ways. From motor skills to cognitive operations, patients who are determined enough and receive informed assistance will improve and some will reach performance levels with imperceptible signs of impairment.
How does this apply to being an artist? Unless your parents were extraordinarily perceptive and caught the first faint sign of Picasso-like qualities in their little darling, they did not strap a vine charcoal to your chubby little hand and let you loose on the nursery walls. Instead, you may have dreamed of that 64-color crayon box, but just couldn’t get it across to your parents that it was essential for developing the sensitivities necessary for your desired vocation. I suspect, and all I read confirms it, that Tiger Woods and his family were the exceptions, and that’s what has made him so exceptional.
But if we were like most, we were occupied with pulling girls pigtails or telling on our siblings rather than spending precious hours with pencil and paper, connecting those all-important synapses as required at the precise and singular moment. Most of us fall into the mildly brain-deficient category, and there is blessed comfort in the thought that we, like the patients I described, can make up for lost time by our own dedication and effort and with the direction from those more skilled.
Keep the faith!
Hearing the news accounts of last weekend’s action at the US Open golf tournament, I began to speculate on the remarkable abilities of golfer Tiger Woods. I related these thoughts to an article on memory that I read recently in Smithsonian magazine. In it, the authorities stated that your “how to” memory is stored in a different location in the brain from short- or long-term memory. All of my conclusions were purely my own and may not hold up to informed scrutiny, but I’m not one to immediately disqualify an opinion just because it’s made by a non-expert.
Woods’ familiar story relates how he began swinging a golf club as a very young child, just when I’m told that neural pathways are connecting. If something interferes with the properly timed connect-up of those pathways, like psychological trauma or illness, the opportunity is lost forever. The unfortunate individual may have to search out another way of accomplishing the skill or task for which he was meant to use that synapse or, perhaps, will never master it. Probably, he will be unaware of “something missing” other than a vague consciousness that X is more difficult for him than Y.
Conversely, it stands to reason, in my mind at least, that if the child, by luck or destiny, is motivated to practice a skill at precisely the time when his body is developing the miraculous, shining cobweb that links his body and his mind, extraordinary things can happen.
Applying these thoughts to the subject of art and making art, what would happen if a child were drawing – from direct observation, of course – when this miracle took place? Would he become a draftsman equal to Nicholi Fechin? If he were playing with color, would he equal Sergei Bongart? Are destinies such as these set that early in one’s life? If the moment is missed, is the opportunity lost forever?
Hopefully not. Accounts of stunning recoveries of brain-injured patients abound and credit is given to retraining the brain to use a detour. Though not always as easy or graceful as the original method, the magnificent human brain is able to accommodate in incredible ways. From motor skills to cognitive operations, patients who are determined enough and receive informed assistance will improve and some will reach performance levels with imperceptible signs of impairment.
How does this apply to being an artist? Unless your parents were extraordinarily perceptive and caught the first faint sign of Picasso-like qualities in their little darling, they did not strap a vine charcoal to your chubby little hand and let you loose on the nursery walls. Instead, you may have dreamed of that 64-color crayon box, but just couldn’t get it across to your parents that it was essential for developing the sensitivities necessary for your desired vocation. I suspect, and all I read confirms it, that Tiger Woods and his family were the exceptions, and that’s what has made him so exceptional.
But if we were like most, we were occupied with pulling girls pigtails or telling on our siblings rather than spending precious hours with pencil and paper, connecting those all-important synapses as required at the precise and singular moment. Most of us fall into the mildly brain-deficient category, and there is blessed comfort in the thought that we, like the patients I described, can make up for lost time by our own dedication and effort and with the direction from those more skilled.
Keep the faith!
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