Thanks to Ryan Tramonte for his blog article on New Orleans.com

Last week the weather here was glorious. It was the kind of week when all seems right with the world. On one such day, I was painting a watercolor in the French Quarter when a handsome stranger stopped and asked a few questions for a blog interview he was writing about the French Quarter Fest,  an amazing festival featuring 3 full days of free music staged throughout the Quarter every April.

It turned out that the gentleman was Ryan Tramonte, who writes a very thoughtful and engaging blog on New Orleans.com. Today, Ryan totally caught me by surprise when he sent a link to this blog: 

TUE 28 APR 2009

Unlike any other Written by Ryan Tramonte

Very often I find myself craving a conversation with my cousin Carrie. You see, most of my days are unbelievably busy. I spend an enormous amount of time dealing with humans who are not taking enough antidepressants. And the ones that are taking enough, need to start washing those pills down with Grey Goose.  My cousin Carrie on the other hand is a joy to speak to. She is calm and quiet and although she is intelligent, she is intelligent enough to know when to keep her trap shut. Her most impressive attribute is that she is consistent. My grandmother (another favorite human of mine) always said that Carrie was her smartest grandchild. She claimed that speaking to Carrie made one feel more intelligent because Carrie herself was so intelligent. After I got over the jealous rage, I agreed. As a child, Carrie played quietly, she spoke softly, and at times it would be hard to notice that she was even in the room. I always gravitated towards her calm and soothing nature. She definitely played, but while the rest of us look sweaty and dirty and as if we were playing, she was spotless, spotless just like her personality. There are very few people that possess the kind of gift that Carrie has. I would go so far as to say that where humans are concerned, she is a work of art. A classic piece, one that make you wish you could paint like that, or sculpt that smoothly. One that makes you wish you had thought about putting those colors together. One that has you standing in front of it for hours in a museum ignoring your watch and annoyed when it is time to go. Carrie is the kind of human that is unlike any other kind of human. Recently, I was walking on Toulouse Street rounding up folks for my Wednesday blog “Let’s take it outside” (if you are not reading it …you should be). As I did, I noticed a woman painting. I could tell from the lightweight easel and the delicate movement of her hands that she was working in watercolor. Much like my intrigue for my cousin Carrie, I found myself intrigued by this artist because I cannot work in watercolor.  Not only was I about to meet someone that was super interesting to talk about, I was about to meet someone that is producing some amazing watercolor works. Joan Dagradi was her name. As is spoke to her, she explained that she has been setting up stage on the streets of the French Quarter and randomly painting the buildings and the architecture we see every day. Well, human score number one, if you can show me something I see every day, and make me see it differently, I am impressed. And there it was, the two buildings across the street from my office looking as if I had never seen them before.  We spoke a little more and exchanged cards and I continued on my journey of meeting new faces for NewOrleans.Com. I was happier than when I look in the mirror on my best day. That happiness was the seed for my research. It was the next day that I received an email from Joan. She was saying how wonderful it was to meet me and if I would be so kind as to include her in my blog, but I was already on it. As I researched this lady, I began to find images that were not just well done, but were also inspirational. Her method of creating watercolor images with weight and heaviness is amazing. (“Blue House on Milan”) Here is what I mean. Far too often in watercolor, we see the artist make light strokes and translucent images. These images are so light that they reveal the pencil marks from the underlying sketches. In art school, when we are taught to use watercolor, we are taught that the there is a method to follow, this method must be obeyed, or your temperamental medium will rebel and you will be left with a soupy mess and buckling paper. Watercolor is the only medium that in art school and lessons, students are encouraged to abandon their creativity and follow the rules. Watercolor is a medium unlike any other medium.  Joan is taking that unique medium and making it work for her. Her structures are solid and her images are complete, the buildings look and feel like buildings. You do not normally see through a wall. Why should you see through a wall, just because it is painted in watercolor? You shouldn’t. While her walls are solid and edged, the areas of foliage around them are as soft as if you could feel the plants themselves. This too is difficult, because Joan is giving you the same consistency in style and application, while using a different texture to create something that in real life is soft and delicate. This is noticeable in her floral work as well. (“Pink and Yellow Roses”) The flowers are soft and meet the background with a definite start and stop, but do not lose their delicate nature against a solid cement-like background. To take a medium that is as hard to maneuver as watercolor and make it look as if it is second-nature, is truly a talent. Joan’s work in oils and pastel posses the same characteristics; strong solid images intertwined with delicate images creating a complete and harmonious canvas with consistency in style and application.   (“Glazed and Chocolate”) They possess a definite uniqueness. Joan is an artist unlike any other artist. While consistency, calmness, and intelligence are things that make a person attractive to others, it is uniqueness that makes them stand out and create a class all their own … just like Joan’s watercolors and my cousin Carrie. Joan’s work can be seen at www.joandagradi.com. Set as fav

Quote from Joseph Zbukvic

"Every painting that's ruined is preceded by these words ' I'll just do this' ".

Joseph Zbukvic, watercolorist

I just came across his site and highly recommend watching the trailers for his DVD's.

Great sense of humor.

John Singer Sargent Vol.6: Venetian Figures and Landscapes

Hot off the presses, this gorgeous book arrived on my doorstep this morning. I pre-ordered it from Amazon.com in January.  Delightful from cover to cover, this is one book not to miss, especially if you love watercolors.  While not referencing watercolors in the title, a majority of the paintings are indeed watercolors of Venice.  

I've often wondered if Sargent really painted only one version of Santa Maria della Salute, as only one watercolor of the subject ever seems to find it's way into books. This volume resoundingly answers that question with at least 3 oils and 10 watercolors of Santa Maria della Salute, viewed from different angles. In fact, there are numerous suites of watercolors of the same subject revealed throughout this book.  

It's both instructive and satisfying to view so many previously unpublished watercolor masterpieces. Moreover, one simply feels so energized to see how Sargent, endowed and gifted with so much talent, still worked diligently- perhaps almost every waking moment- to accomplish the great legacy of work that he left behind.

"Adele, Smoking"

Watercolor, 14 x 11 inches

"The desire to express an idea awakens interest in the means.  Observation is keen, close application is an easy task, every sense is alert to accomplish the undertaking. This is quite different from drawing anything and everything for practice only."  Arthur Wesley Dow

Pink & Yellow Roses

Watercolor, 8 x 12 inches

During a recent cool spell, I played in the studio with a simple flower arrangement. Painting it twice [because I'm too impatient to let the washes dry properly to just paint one], I put the flowers away- actually they went in the trash- and then picked one study to rework and push further.  Frequently, with watercolor I've found that it is in pushing it further, beyond my comfort level, that the best 'stuff' happens. Of course, some get lost on the way, but that's part of the process.

 

The pink rose in the watercolor is "Souvenir de la Malmaison", a pink Bourbon antique rose with the loveliest scent. It requires no spraying or fussing. Truly, all I do is cut the flowers. This lovely plant produces blooms year round in New Orleans.

Distant Buildings- Purple Sky2

Watercolor, 7 x 5 inches, $250

Since the Watercolor Workshop began in late February, I've noticed that I've been able to enjoy painting with the same enthusiasm that I had when I began years ago.  Teaching  in my studio has been a very positive experience; I'm fortunate to have a wonderful group of students. My goal in teaching is to ignite interest in the watercolor medium, while laying out the lessons in a sequential pattern so that we build on our knowledge base. I've seen dramatic results, with sometimes breathtakingly beautiful paintings showing up on the studio wall as students bring in the work they've been doing during the week.

Last Wednesday evening, we spent a short time mixing all the possible combinations of the color green, using a lemon yellow and a yellow ochre combined with cerulean, thalo blue, ultramarine and black.  We've been painting landscapes and working a bit with transparent washes. I enjoyed seeing the class realize all the subtle shades of green available from mixing a few colors. As in oils, it's easy to get too comfortable and just dig into a green right out of the tube. By mixing your own green rather than depending on a thalo green or viridian, the color harmony is easier to control.

We also studied design, using an exercise from Arthur Wesley Dow's book "Composition". It entails drawing a landscape and then redesigning or simplifying the linear composition several times before deciding which version might be the best choice for a painting. While this lesson may seem advanced for a beginner, it actually gives us more freedom and offers a real chance for succeeding with our work.  

Beginning a painting may be considered analogous to taking a road trip. If I wish to drive to California from Vermont and simply get in the car and begin driving, then there's a very good chance that I will get lost.  If I first consult a map, I have a better chance of success. If I spend a few extra minutes to decide on the BEST route, I will ultimately save time and have a more pleasant experience. Designing the painting through a series of line drawings before the brush touches the paper is like choosing the best route. Arranging the masses, trying a few different shapes for the outer dimensions, deciding where the darks and the lights will be takes a few moments, but once you try it it's amazing how many good ideas show up.

The watercolor, Distant Buildings-Purple Sky was painted from memory, utilizing a series of transparent washes.

Leon's Balcony

Watercolor, 14 x 20 inches

Painted in the French Quarter, this watercolor always reminds me of how beautiful old New Orleans really is.  Truthfully, I get a thrill just watching a wash dry.

I haven't done a lot of pre-planning with my watercolors, usually just using the 'point and shoot' method. I set up on location, after driving around in a general area of the city and stopping when a shadow or a piece of architectural something catches my eye.
The success rate is sometimes slim with this approach, just slapping and sloshing the paint around. It can be great fun.

An intuitive response develops as to when to lay the next wash down or how to mix that wash, what colors to use, whether to wait for the previous wash to dry or not. When dealing with transparent and opaque colors, the possibilities increase exponentially.

My Watercolor Workshop Series is in full swing on Wednesday nights. 

I totally enjoy teaching.

The Agony & the Ecstasy, while helping the Economy...

I've just returned from an extended  wonderful and much needed visit with family and friends in New Jersey and MA. While I contemplate tech awkwardly on how to use both the camera and computer again, I am sharing a newspaper article that my husband kindly brought to my attention.

Entitled "The agony and the ecstasy, or why bad art really is a pain", this article appeared in the Sunday Living Section of the Times-Picayune, copyright 2009 New Scientist Magazine, so it must be true. The byline is Health News Service.

"The power of art to heal emotional wounds is well known, but could contemplating a beautiful painting have the same effect on physical pain?

To investigate, Marina de Tommaso and a team from the University  of Bari in Italy asked 12 men and women to pick the 20 paintings they considered most ugly and most beautiful from a selection of 300 works by artists such as da Vinci and Botticelli.

They were then asked to contemplate either the beautiful paintings or the ugly painting, or a blank panel while the team zapped a short laser pulse at their hand, creating a pricking sensation.

The subjects rated the pain as being a third less intense while they were viewing the beautiful paintings, compared with contemplating the ugly paintings or the blank panel. Electrodes measuring the brain's electrical activity suggested a reduced response to the pain when the subject looked at beautiful paintings.

While distractions are known to reduce pain in hospital patients, de Tommaso says this is the first result to show that beauty plays a part. 'Hospitals have been designed to be functional, but we think that their aesthetic aspects should be taken into account, too', she says."

Well done and thank you very much, Ms. de Tommaso and the team from the University of Bari.  I know undoubtedly that for me, looking at what I consider to be beautiful art not only reduces pain both emotional and physical, but always lifts my spirits as well.  

In the spirit of the season- Tax Time in the US- if anyone wishes to ease the pain that rolls around every April 15th, may I suggest looking for a painting to add to your collection. I may have just the right painting for you on my website.

Not only will it ease your pain and lift your spirits, you'll also lift the spirits of my very dear husband, while helping the New Orleans local economy. 

Who knew that one painting could do so much good?

Homage to Velazquez: Copying the Juan de Pareja

Copy after Velazquez's Juan de Pareja

Oil on canvas, 22 x 28 inches

Many years ago, when I first discovered that I wanted to paint portraits, I began studying the works of the Great Masters. I obtained permission and then copied a Joaquin Sorolla painting from life, not reproduction, at the Hispanic Society in New York. I copied Frans Hals at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the same way. 

There is none greater than Velazquez when it comes to portraiture. I took my cue from John Singer Sargent, who also made studies from Velazquez's work,  as have countless others.  After obtaining permission from the Metropolitan, I began to copy the Juan de Pareja, set up just a few feet away from the original. It felt very much like having a cup of coffee with Velazquez!  I've never had so much fun painting as I did that morning. Though I worked on it twice, it was copied in about 3 hours. After all, Velazquez did all the heavy lifting.

Triumphantly happy, I made plans to copy Velazquez's Supper at Emmaus. 

This experience was quite different, however.  I suspect the major difference was the paint used for each. 

Before leaving New Orleans to copy at the Met, I casually told an artist friend of my plans. I  knew that he was very familiar with Mr. Maroger's philosophy and thought he might offer some insights.  After he told me a little bit about it, I went around the corner to a used book store and amazingly found an original  1948 edition of Mr. Maroger's book  "The Secret Formulas and Techniques of the Masters".  My friend Paolo was so excited that I had found the book, that he offered to make some "Velazquez Medium" for me, as mentioned in Mr. Maroger's writings. A few days before I left, he handed me a small jar with an amber colored gel/solid inside. Paolo told me that it contained copper and to keep the jar capped as much as possible to prevent oxidation. He volunteered that the medium would be good for a month or two, as I remember.  He also instructed me to bring small envelopes of ground pigment- cadmium red, gold ochre, naples yellow, burnt sienna, white lead  and black. I was told to mix a small amount of medium using a palette knife with each small pile of pigment, except the white, fresh on my palette before painting each day. He suggested that I tone the canvas with flake white and a dark earth red.

It is truly a miracle that no one at the Metropolitan stopped the experiment. Today, I think it might be more difficult to bring unlabeled jars and toxic powders into the Museums galleries. Thanks to Paolo, Velazquez,  and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a very fruitful painting session transpired.

As wonderful as the experience was, I decided to try the next copy using regular Winsor and Newton oils, the finest commercially available to me. Stubbornly, I simply could not believe that any medium could make such a difference.  

As hinted at earlier, the next copy did not go well. I felt at a disadvantage, as if one arm were tied behind my back or one eye was blinded.  No matter what I tried, the viscosity of the tube paint prevented me from obtaining the same silky texture and values that more closely approximated the original painting.

As part of my renewed interest in portraiture, I plan to try the medium again. I've been reticent in the past to cook lead or verdigris, but no source of commercially available real Velazquez Medium, as described in Mr. Maroger's book, has turned up.  I've found a source for verdisgris at Kremer Pigments. On a clear, sunny day in a month or two, I plan to cook the medium outside to avoid harmful vapors. Barring explosions, I 'll post about the results.

Sketch of Terry

oil sketch, 12 x 9 inches

In preparation for a portrait commission, I am working on a series of oil portrait sketches to "warm up".  

Years ago, I aspired to be an oil portrait painter, but things never seemed to work out.

I painted hundreds, maybe thousands, of pastel portraits, frequently from small photos of deceased loved ones. I painted pastel portraits in shopping malls at Christmas for 5 years. From the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve, the Southland Mall  in Houma, LA became my home for 12 hours a day, after which I would retire to the Sugar Motel [read as cheap & smoky] to rest up for the next day. Typically, I painted 6 or 7 pastels from small photos a day, with a few live sittings included, for nearly a month. 

The conditions were strenuous and adverse; no wonder I gave up the idea of painting portraits!

When my son was born, I happily left that era behind. I began painting watercolors, sculpting in clay, painting oil and pastel still life and landscape. 

I'm looking forward to the commission. 

In the meantime, I'll do some 'target practice'. 

The sketch of Terry was painted quickly, in @ an hour and one half. I used a black and white photo which I had taken of a friend ten years ago.