I made a painting of a cat with its arms and legs a tangle of movements. I thought that I had been influenced by Picasso and perhaps was. But after having developed vocal and motor tics with my present illness I realize that to an extent it was a self portrait. Even the nervous miniature paintings around the perimeter of the painting are about movement. They were meant to represent the fly that the cat is attempting to catch.
The irony is that as I was on the cusp of being sent to a movement disorder clinic to try yet another medication I decided to check the medication I am already on, doing a thorough search this time for an extended list of possible side effects. Sure enough, involuntary movements was on the list. Pays to check carefully.
March 17, 2014
March 7, 2014
Revisioning the Cat Book
With a commission completed and no more scheduled and an exhibition nearing a close, I am about to draw and paint for myself for a while. Yet as I was about to slosh around in acrylics I remembered that there was one more work in progress that could use some attention: The Small Book of Marvelous Cats. What was needed was two more illustrations for the last two unpictured rhymes and the updated version of the first draft of the book. The first draft became a first draft after I started illustrating a new batch of rhymes for the cat with pictures that were twice as large as the former ones and much more detailed. After much hesitation because I knew that it would entail a lot of work, I decided to bring the first group of illustrations up to the level of the second.
Above is the first attempt at a redo. The illustration at right is the original one for the poem “Little Cat up a Tree.” The first one was adequate but the second version is definitely more refined and detailed. Something else changed in the remake. The first drawing is from the perspective of a person observing a small cat up in a tree. The second rendering seems to be more from the perspective of the cat looking downwards.
March 6, 2014
A Painted Box
A commissioned art work is always a challenge. An artist’s artistic abilities are tempered by a client’s need for a particular kind of interior decoration. I don’t mind at all tailoring my painting or mosaics to suit a particular location. It is certainly different, however, from painting freely in the studio. Technical considerations often come up which create a need to learn a few new skills. A client’s tastes and interior decor are factored in as well.
I recently completed a painted box that is to be displayed on a mantel underneath a reproduction of a Piranesi. I didn’t look at my client’s Piranesi print and perhaps I should have, because for some reason although he said “Piranesi” my brain heard “Nicolas Poussin.” Images such as the painting reproduced here danced in my head: dark shapes against a turquoise blue sky. Piranesi, conversely, was more famed for his black and white etchings. Nevertheless, my painting was influenced by classical traditions and hopefully will look just as well beneath a Piranesi as it would have with a Poussin.
My client was interested in a box painted with images of birds and flowers. He is a bright and discerning fellow, with a formidable musical career as scholar, educator, and performer. For this reason I made two mock up studies in acrylic on a long piece of paper that would wrap around the box so he could see what it would look like and have personal input into the aesthetic process. My first painting study was basically a dark on light design. But my second design was based on my visions of the wrong painter, Piranesi, and was dark on light. Good thing I made a second version because that was the one my client chose.
Making the box was somewhat problematic. The top was made from picture molding and the rest from hand crafted poplar. I didn’t have the equipment or skills to create it so I had to find a picture framing willing to take the trouble on. No one wanted to do it. I finally found someone in Charleston willing to make a lid with a matching box because after conversing with him for some time we found that we had attended the same graduate school in New York and knew the same people. Connections and New York “bonding” always come in handy.
The box arrived from Charleston and although well crafted, needed something more in the way of finish. Once again, it turned out to be a wise choice to have my client look it over before I painted it. We decided that the interior needed to be refinished and painted, the inside lip and base sanded and coated with shellac. A final addition was four squares of vitreous glass on the base to raise the bottom of the box.
I recently completed a painted box that is to be displayed on a mantel underneath a reproduction of a Piranesi. I didn’t look at my client’s Piranesi print and perhaps I should have, because for some reason although he said “Piranesi” my brain heard “Nicolas Poussin.” Images such as the painting reproduced here danced in my head: dark shapes against a turquoise blue sky. Piranesi, conversely, was more famed for his black and white etchings. Nevertheless, my painting was influenced by classical traditions and hopefully will look just as well beneath a Piranesi as it would have with a Poussin.
My client was interested in a box painted with images of birds and flowers. He is a bright and discerning fellow, with a formidable musical career as scholar, educator, and performer. For this reason I made two mock up studies in acrylic on a long piece of paper that would wrap around the box so he could see what it would look like and have personal input into the aesthetic process. My first painting study was basically a dark on light design. But my second design was based on my visions of the wrong painter, Piranesi, and was dark on light. Good thing I made a second version because that was the one my client chose.
Making the box was somewhat problematic. The top was made from picture molding and the rest from hand crafted poplar. I didn’t have the equipment or skills to create it so I had to find a picture framing willing to take the trouble on. No one wanted to do it. I finally found someone in Charleston willing to make a lid with a matching box because after conversing with him for some time we found that we had attended the same graduate school in New York and knew the same people. Connections and New York “bonding” always come in handy.
The box arrived from Charleston and although well crafted, needed something more in the way of finish. Once again, it turned out to be a wise choice to have my client look it over before I painted it. We decided that the interior needed to be refinished and painted, the inside lip and base sanded and coated with shellac. A final addition was four squares of vitreous glass on the base to raise the bottom of the box.
Before painting the box, I had to finish each side in the traditional way that icons were prepared - several coats of rabbit skin glue followed by several coats of cooked marble dust gesso - applied hot, then cooled and sanded between coats. Because it was a box instead of a flat panel, each side had to be prepared, dried, then turned to do the next side. The process made me recall why I had stopped making painted boxes some years ago. The final step was to seal the gesso with my home made ruby shellac - which added a nice golden glow to the gesso. My client approved of the as yet finished but unpainted box.
For subject matter, I chose images of wildflowers that were local to South Carolina as well as Carolina wrens. The wrens, however, I painted more gold than brown so that they looked a bit more like canaries - more in keeping with Piranesi. I used some rather pricey colors on this painted box; real lapis lazuli, turquoise, malachite green and sedona. This made the overall effect jewel-like and very much like a classical painting. The nice thing about painting small on a slick surface is that expensive pigments go a long way.
The commission finished, I can now turn to my haphazard, whatever inspires me art work.
February 28, 2014
A Sleeping Cat Blooming Like a Rose
A little white cat with big ears
Uses them more than just to hear.
When the house is all a-hush
You will see they start to blush.
Then a gentle quiver starts
A nod, a jerk, a twitch --
As he delves even deeper
Into his role of a sleeper
You know that his dreams are rich.
Uses them more than just to hear.
When the house is all a-hush
You will see they start to blush.
Then a gentle quiver starts
A nod, a jerk, a twitch --
As he delves even deeper
Into his role of a sleeper
You know that his dreams are rich.
February 26, 2014
Pink Cat in Verse and Paint
I was attracted to a poem about a cat. Or I should say the memory of a poem about a cat that was white with pink highlights. The cat was running in my memory and became entirely pink and grey so I painted it that way and added a collage border like I had on a previous small painting of a leaping cat. I showed it to my friend Kris Miller, who had written the poem that inspired the painting. She pointed out that the poem was about a sleeping cat. Funny how memory plays tricks on one. The color pink loomed so large in my recall of the poem that the state of sleep was erased.
Yesterday I finished some designs for a commission so had some time to spare between the client’s final decision and the start of the work. Into this small gap between activities I dashed off a painting of a sleeping pink cat. Still not true to the actual cat because the sleeping cat was white, the pink cat is at least in repose. Yet looking at the poem again, it could very well be about a rose colored cat. It is a light and humorous little kitty ditty so perhaps it was fitting to make a miniature about it.
I had just enough border design from my previous painting/collage to fit around the border of this one as well. It created an impression of a quilt. At various points in the painting I brought the dark triangular shapes of this border into the painting.
Another look at the poem reveals an essence captured even if details are not correct:
43 – Pinkie II (Mickey)
One cat is nicknamed Pinkie
He got his genes from his Mommie.
His gray paws got much paler
And his nose turned bicolor
Yesterday I finished some designs for a commission so had some time to spare between the client’s final decision and the start of the work. Into this small gap between activities I dashed off a painting of a sleeping pink cat. Still not true to the actual cat because the sleeping cat was white, the pink cat is at least in repose. Yet looking at the poem again, it could very well be about a rose colored cat. It is a light and humorous little kitty ditty so perhaps it was fitting to make a miniature about it.
I had just enough border design from my previous painting/collage to fit around the border of this one as well. It created an impression of a quilt. At various points in the painting I brought the dark triangular shapes of this border into the painting.
Another look at the poem reveals an essence captured even if details are not correct:
43 – Pinkie II (Mickey)
One cat is nicknamed Pinkie
But not because he’s a commie
Along with an eye that’s winky
He got his genes from his Mommie.
So as he grew up and got older
His gray paws got much paler
As a rosy hue took over. -Kris Miller
February 24, 2014
Celebrating the Year of the Horse
A few days ago, we were invited to celebrate Chinese New Year at the Confucius Institute at the University of South Carolina. There was good food and entertainment to ring in the Year of the Horse. The entertainment potpourri consisted of Beijing Opera, a musical interlude on the saxophone that did not sound particularly Chinese, and a performance by children from the relatively new Chinese language immersion school, East Point Academy. The last performance was perhaps the most impressive. It was certainly encouraging to see young children from South Carolina speaking and singing fluently in Chinese. It was good to know that in at least some areas, this state has become forward thinking. Their intonation in Mandarin was already pitch perfect and they could speak idiomatically. Here is the potential for South Carolina to have an entourage of fluent Chinese speakers, trained from childhood. I imagine they will have a significant edge in doing business as adults if their language skills are maintained.
To celebrate the year of the horse, I ‘ve been reworking some old sketches of horses. The one above was originally sketched in pencil from life when I went out to see the horses at dawn. I still remember the rising sun making a golden halo around the horses red bodies. I made a few paintings from this sketch so today I thought to add colors and retire it from service.
To celebrate the year of the horse, I ‘ve been reworking some old sketches of horses. The one above was originally sketched in pencil from life when I went out to see the horses at dawn. I still remember the rising sun making a golden halo around the horses red bodies. I made a few paintings from this sketch so today I thought to add colors and retire it from service.
February 21, 2014
Cat Paws
The interlude between the end of creating art for my current exhibition and the start of a small commission saw a creative pause - or should I say paws. I was inspired to make some small painting/collages by the poetry of a friend. I had been sharing images and rhymes from my Small Book of Marvelous Cats with Kris for some months now. After reading several of my little kitty ditties and offering constructive advice on how to make the illustrations better, Kris was inspired to try her hand at writing poetic odes to the cat as well. I usually write one or two a month when I have an idea for an illustration. Kris, however, in a wild burst of creative energy much like the leaping cat that inspired it, wrote a fifty poem tome within a few weeks. Amazing!
The first poem in her newly written book of poetry was based on watching a cat trying to catch a fly. There was an interesting allusion in the poem to Kris’s unusual February 29th birth date. A leap year and a leaping cat. I made a painting for this that depicted a many armed cat flailing away at an unseen fly. I thought the fly should appear in the collage border around the miniature. I made this intensely decorative by painting each square in the border with flying insects, cat eyes, and bird beaks. It was a mess of color and shapes. Just out of curiosity, when I glued the last square down and counted them up. There were thirty-one squares. That was close to the leap year twenty-nine so I decided to try again with another version of the painting. In the second version I made a more natural looking cat, albeit blue. I then surrounded it with exactly twenty-nine squares. The four corner squares are a stamped design reading “flying” in Chinese seal script - hard for me to resist a stamp or two. The poem that marks Kris Miller’s debut into the society of cat poets is as follows:
1 - Little ballerina cat - an ode to Sadie (Sadie) Look at the little ballerina cat
She has her eye on a fly
She leaps She spins
She's very spry
But can't quite catch her prey
So perhaps another day... I'll bet in Leap Year she'll get a boost
To jump and twirl even higher
And bring down that nasty fly at last
Her giddy heart's desire! -Kris Miller
The first poem in her newly written book of poetry was based on watching a cat trying to catch a fly. There was an interesting allusion in the poem to Kris’s unusual February 29th birth date. A leap year and a leaping cat. I made a painting for this that depicted a many armed cat flailing away at an unseen fly. I thought the fly should appear in the collage border around the miniature. I made this intensely decorative by painting each square in the border with flying insects, cat eyes, and bird beaks. It was a mess of color and shapes. Just out of curiosity, when I glued the last square down and counted them up. There were thirty-one squares. That was close to the leap year twenty-nine so I decided to try again with another version of the painting. In the second version I made a more natural looking cat, albeit blue. I then surrounded it with exactly twenty-nine squares. The four corner squares are a stamped design reading “flying” in Chinese seal script - hard for me to resist a stamp or two. The poem that marks Kris Miller’s debut into the society of cat poets is as follows:
1 - Little ballerina cat - an ode to Sadie (Sadie) Look at the little ballerina cat
She has her eye on a fly
She leaps She spins
She's very spry
But can't quite catch her prey
So perhaps another day... I'll bet in Leap Year she'll get a boost
To jump and twirl even higher
And bring down that nasty fly at last
Her giddy heart's desire! -Kris Miller
February 20, 2014
Letting the Clay Body Shine Through
February 19, 2014
Fallen Limbs: Menace or Manna?
When I was in China, I was impressed by how the Chinese students I worked with described their potential for accomplishments. Accomplishing a goal was a factor of time, effort and relative ability. I never heard from my students that they considered themselves incapable of achieving something. A student who considered himself not as talented or capable as a classmate simply said it would take him or her more time to complete the same task, never that it could not be done. This impressed me considerably and I remembered this lesson from my students until this day. Reducing a task to a factor of time needed and degree of effort required instead of allocating a desired goal to the impossible or possible became especially apropos in the face of a protracted illness.
It takes me much longer to do the things I used to do, but I still do them, finding ways to compensate for my slowness and awkwardness. This has certainly been the case in the production of pit fired ceramics. Gone are the days when I could collect tinder and chop wood in the morning and fire a kiln in the afternoon. Instead I start collecting small pieces of wood about a month in advance of a firing, usually a handful a day from the nearby woods where I take a short morning walk. A month of daily handfuls makes for one wood firing. It takes a long time, but it gets done and it is possible.
Last week we had the ice storm. The fallen tree limbs were a menace - downing power lines and leaving us without power for four days. Yesterday, with the help of a friend with a chain saw, we got most of the larger fallen limbs out of the way. I used a heavy duty pruner to cut the smaller branches. These I’ve been slowly stacking the branches for the next pit fire. I’ve been carefully peeling the side twigs off of dogwood limbs for kindling. After about another week I’ll have my pile of timber ready for the next firing. So was the fallen timber was only a menace to our power system. It was more like manna from heaven for my future art.
The small lidded vessel pictured above came from the most recent pit fire. The copper carbonate reduced to red in small areas - exactly what I had hope for against the blues and blacks.
It takes me much longer to do the things I used to do, but I still do them, finding ways to compensate for my slowness and awkwardness. This has certainly been the case in the production of pit fired ceramics. Gone are the days when I could collect tinder and chop wood in the morning and fire a kiln in the afternoon. Instead I start collecting small pieces of wood about a month in advance of a firing, usually a handful a day from the nearby woods where I take a short morning walk. A month of daily handfuls makes for one wood firing. It takes a long time, but it gets done and it is possible.
Last week we had the ice storm. The fallen tree limbs were a menace - downing power lines and leaving us without power for four days. Yesterday, with the help of a friend with a chain saw, we got most of the larger fallen limbs out of the way. I used a heavy duty pruner to cut the smaller branches. These I’ve been slowly stacking the branches for the next pit fire. I’ve been carefully peeling the side twigs off of dogwood limbs for kindling. After about another week I’ll have my pile of timber ready for the next firing. So was the fallen timber was only a menace to our power system. It was more like manna from heaven for my future art.
The small lidded vessel pictured above came from the most recent pit fire. The copper carbonate reduced to red in small areas - exactly what I had hope for against the blues and blacks.
February 18, 2014
Going Local for Ceramic Art
My last pit firing yielded the best results yet. The clay that was locally mined remained stable and did not crack or explode in the fire. The colors were exactly what I had hoped for. I had been trying to get dramatic changes from light to dark with patterning and good color variations. This was accomplished by adding sea salt and copper carbonate to the organic matter in my outdoor pit kiln. Smothering the fire with local Spanish moss helped create the dark black patches that I desired.
Almost everything that went into the lidded vessel above was obtained locally. The clay came from a tributary of the Edisto River. The wood and organic matter were also obtained from the nearby park and from my back yard. It was something of a miracle that a vessel such as this one could emerge almost entirely from the processing of materials within a mile radius of my home. What was added that was not local was the copper carbonate that I had on hand from a ceramic course I took years ago in the Netherlands. I had considered burnishing the surface of the red clay to be a purist in my cottage industry but I could not resist using my terra sigillata glaze made from blue and green commercial underglaze colors mixed with a homemade terra sigillata base.
As I don’t have a wheel, this vessel was made entirely by pinch and coiling. The lid was made by running a blade attached to a template around the upper perimeter of the form. I still need to polish my skills at doing this.
This lidded vessel was originally designed as a funerary urn for a departed friend who I miss very much. I like to think that it turned out well because I took care for this to be a final resting place. But it may turn out not to be quite large enough. I’ll be making more of these to find something that is just the right fit and because I do like the form.
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