My painting was based on a montage of three photos: a Northwest Pacific canoe, New Mexico clouds, the clouds and their shadows reflected on the backdrop of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.
My painting expresses energy and Doig’s painting expresses the unease of drifting.
Quoting Nicholas Serota (former director of the Tate) : Doig’s paintings have a kind of mythic quality that’s both ancient and very, very modern. They seem to capture a contemporary sense of anxiety and melancholy and uncertainty. Lately, he’s gone more toward the sort of darkness we associate with Goya.
Paintings of Bindo Altoviti (1491 to 1557) by three different Renaissance artists illustrate what hands can tell about character.
Educated at the papal court and later, as a major papal banker, Bindo Altoviti knew Renaissance artists. Three of them – Raphael, Francesco Salviati and Jacopino del Conte – painted him at different times. Looking at these paintings, our eyes move from Bindo’s face, particularly his eyes, to his hands:
A pictorial procession from a, reportedly, idealistic young aristocrat with his right hand resting on his heart, to a middle-aged power broker of turbulent Renaissance politics with both hands clasped together almost hidden at the bottom of the painting, to, lastly, an elderly patron of the arts with both hands freely extended, one holding a glove and the other pointing to a work of art.
It appears that these paintings of his hands express different facets of Bindo Altoviti’s character.
Renaissance artists were employed by the church and the rich. Bindo Altoviti had the artists create frescos for his palazzo in Rome, and his suburban villa. He was not only their patron but also their friend. For example, when Michelangelo had to flee from Florence, he gave him sanctuary in Rome.
An earlier post “Different hands, different spirits” has now been extended, by adding the full portraits of the sitters to allow viewing the interplay of eyes with hands there too.
Usually I don’t show a painting in progress to my artist friends. I wait until it is more finished before I invite constructive comments. But yesterday, I showed this painting to an art buddy who commented that it is finished. That took me by surprise because I have many ideas of how to continue working on what I merely considered an ‘underpainting’ of a girl diving to the bottom of Lake Michigan.
Earlier, during our lunch, some of the artists had discussed the difficulty to know when a work is finished. The danger being that one could overdo it, thereby destroying it. With that in mind, rather than continuing working on my painting, I decided to do the same motif over but then experiment with further ideas.
Do you know when your work is finished – painting, writing, sculpting, designing your garden, inventing a new cooking recipe…?
My first four ceramic figures were done in the a workshop at the Oliver Art Center in Frankfurt, MI, led by Steve Kline. New to this art form, I am indebted to the guidance of Steve – sensitive to when I needed help or was capable of proceeding on my own.
The Etruscan boy was copied from a photo of a votive bronze statuette, third century B.C. in the Museo Etrusco Guarnacci in Volterra. Wondering what this lumbering little guy was up to.
The female Chinese dancer, earthen ware, stems from the Western Han Dynasty (206 B.C. – A.D. 9). The statue was excavated in 1989-1990 in the tomb of the prince of Chu, Tuolanshan, Xuzhou, Jiangsu Province. My copy was done from a postcard bought at the MET, NYC. I am intrigued but the dancer’s wide swaying stance.
Saint Anthony was modeled using a photo of a wood statue in the Museum of International Folk Art, New Mexico. From en.wikipedia: He is especially invoked and venerated all over the world as the patron saint for the recovery of lost items and is credited with many miracles involving lost people, lost things and even lost spiritual goods. I view my little statue as finding lost souls.
My ceramic copy of a Pre Columbian acrobat figure dating around 600AD – an inspiration for striving for agility.
My copy of a Pre Columbian Warrior Amulet
My copy of the Etruscan boy was thinly glazed with Amaco Celadon Rainforest.
My copy of the Female Dancer was glazed first with Amaco Celadon Tangelo followed by Amaco Celadon Green to highlight the shadows of her robe,
My copy of Saint Anthony was first painted with Amaco Celadon Cobalt Blue which then was brushed off the face and hands. Face and hands were subsequently painted with Amaco Celadon Tangelo and folds of the robe were overpainted with Amaco Celadon Rainforest. The latter glazes were mostly obscured by the more powerful Celadon Cobalt – fortuitous as the shape of the figure is better seen with a coherent glaze.
My copy of the Meso-American Acrobat was glazed with three Amaco Celadon glazes: Mulberry, Snow and Sky. My artist friend Dewey Blocksma mounted the acrobat on a walnut base.
My copy of a Pre Columbian Warrior Amulet was glazed with Amaco Celadon Snapdragon and Obsidian.