Grays, egg tempera on calfskin parchment, 7 1/2 x 6 in.
In the past I've painted grays––of rocks and concrete, of grain storage bins––but my recent work has been of brighter hue, so from the start this painting was going to pose a challenge. It turned out to be a challenge I thoroughly enjoyed as I balanced the values and hues to make a harmonious whole. The value relationships underwent some very dramatic changes: at first the ocher colored background was a much darker hue, the grays lighter next to it; the top plane was originally close to white. I didn't like the dark shape on the right, so wiped it off and began again with the lighter hue, which meant that the grays also had to be adjusted. They are all mixed with different pigments––ultramarine blue, cadmium red, cadmium yellow, yellow ocher, brown ocher, burnt sienna, earth green and white––and the color shifts subtle depending on the amounts of each. I painted many layers, adjusting each slightly, until I felt satisfied.
Arthur Dove, Fog Horns, 1929; oil on canvas, 21 1/2 x 28 1/2 in.
While I was working, I kept thinking of Arthur Dove;
I remembered seeing gray paintings of his, and it's possible that the
circular motif of my painting also brought his work to mind. I found a
perfect illustration online in the painting above.
Ellsworth Kelly, Green Curves, 1951, ink on paper and gouache on paper, 7 1/2 x 8 in. From the collection of MoMA.
Ellsworth Kelly is one of my favorite contemporary artists, whose work has greatly influenced my textiles. As I was painting the large curve that begins at the upper right of the
panel, I felt that I was drawing a Kelly curve. Like most artists, I am
very beholden to my artistic ancestors, but their voices don't usually sound so loudly during the painting process; it was a pleasure to converse with them.
Grays, detail
of the many things in painting which touch me it is this idea of being part of a continuum which reaches back into the darkened caves of humankind & your comment about 'artistic ancestors' rings well. (PS & your painting, as usual, is so satisfying).
ReplyDeletetony, I was surprised, actually, at how clearly I felt the hovering of predecessors. Never mind all those medieval artists working with egg tempera. When I was looking at and thinking about the Renaissance portraits of the 15th century, a show at the Met, I felt a very strong formal connection.
Deletewell, for me this one lacks something, it reminds me of a piece of office equipment that hasn't been scarred by use. of course it's well painted and compositionally considered - but where's its quirk?
ReplyDeleterappel, I'd hate to have to come up with something quirky each painting, though I think this is odd enough. Ffor me the painting is quite formal and I love the color; I actually like it a lot, but maybe it loses in translation to the screen.
DeleteVery nice Altoon. I thought of Charles Sheeler and others of his time when I saw this too.
ReplyDeletethanks, Mona. Sheeler has also been a great inspiration to me.
DeleteA lovely post and a delicately nuanced and glowing painting. The infinite subtleties of gray provides a broad range for "restrained shimmering" which is what your painting does for me. I love the Dove & Kelly paintings that you have included in the post. Interesting how artists voices from the past can inform the work. Isn't painting just the most marvelous teacher? Enjoying your blog very much, Altoon.
ReplyDeleteThanks so very much, Holly.
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