Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
In a 1977 book on Pownal, Vermont, I learned that the quarry is known as the "lime quarry" since the limestone was removed to be turned into lime. Small carts on rails were used to transport the limestone over a small trestle that crossed the nearby road to the lime factory. I am still trying to find out when the quarry was active. One photo shows workmen with a horse and wagon. The quarry unfortunately was the scene of a fatal leap "a few years" before 1977.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
I have time to do black and white drawings, but not for pastel paintings at this moment. I am hopeful that I will get one or two paintings from this group. Within the quarry, or peering over the edge, and looking beyond to the horizon, I experience a strange feeling. Awe, fear, marvel, emptiness. I don't know.
Friday, March 19, 2010
I have returned home, and went underground. Actually, I climbed above the quarry again to look at the underground opening. In this part of Vermont, the snow is gone. These are preparatory drawings that may lead to paintings.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Doing a black and white drawing prior to the painting has been quite beneficial, besides extending my worktime, and doubling my output. I discover all the troublesome areas during the drawing, and can determine how to handle them before starting the painting.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
The Venice pastel.
A while back I promised to write more about Thomas Jones, the Welshman who had a year of painting genius in Naples. The year was 1782. In his published lecture, The Originality of Thomas Jones, Lawrence Gowing writes that Jones was unsuccessful in trying to become a painter of the sublime landscape. In other words, he failed in following tried and tired formulas, not only in the pictures he made, but also in their reception by others. Consequently he was pushed to dare to paint what he saw. In 1782 in Naples, he went out on the rooftops of his various apartments, and painted other rooftops, and building facades, and sky and clouds. The results still have the raw power of pure and immediate vision. For example, look at A Wall in Naples, or House in Naples. The picture plane, the building facade, and the painting's surface coincide. These pictures are also very small. A Wall in Naples is approximately 5x6 inches! The book by Wollheim that I mentioned earlier claims that Jones "metaphorize[s] the body". It's a tenuous claim that may arise from the sort of Zen vision that Jones was experiencing at the time where he was able to see and paint exactly what he saw with a powerful and unfiltered immediacy, sort of the way we think a baby would look at things. The Jones 1782 paintings were virtually unknown until the early 1950's.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I have always been attracted to the seashore. Who isn't? Yesterday I came across these words from Isaac Newton: "I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me."
Check out the beach paintings of John Evans at painting perceptions. The painting perceptions site is rich with painters and paintings. That's where I first found Neil Riley.
The drawing has the same proportions as the pastel, but it's approximately 5x8, while the pastel is 8x10.
Monday, March 8, 2010
I made this quick, fast, and speedy, trying to keep an abstract quality. Does it work? I want to keep going in this direction, though I will stay on the shore. It's 8x10 on colourfix paper.
I recently came across a painter who does beautiful work that is very small, painterly and abstract: Neil Riley. Look him up.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
It's hard getting back into the rhythm after being away for a week, but I am happy to be back. I have always loved those Dutch landscape drawings where the artist was located at some high point. This is a view of a salt marsh from a tower.