Pop Goes the Artist!

I’ve been reading a lot of excellent sketch blogs lately, many of them done primarily in watercolor (Laurelines is one of my favorites), and perhaps because of them, I’ve had a strong urge to sketch lately.

In watercolor.

I don’t actually have my watercolors with me at school (although I do have watercolor pencils and a single large paintbrush), but I’m almost tempted to ask my parents to bring them up to me when they visit this weekend. I’m a little confused by this sudden desire, though, because last time I checked, my relationship with watercolors was one of deep and mutual dislike. I am a control freak and I’ve always felt that watercolors are better suited to artists who can, um, go with the flow.

Besides that, I’m so out of practice with pencil sketching that my attempts at doing the same with watercolors will only lead to ugliness, frustration, and even less sketching than I already do.

Should do more sketching with a pen, though. I enjoy it and paradoxically, the inability to erase frees me up and makes me less concerned with getting it “right.”

(Pictured is a colored pencil sketch I just completed, of my bottle of olive oil. I need to work on shiny/ reflective/ see-through surfaces.)

After only a few fits and starts (and the first of many, many visits to WordPress’s stellar support forum), I have a blog!  On my own domain!  This still has a long way to go, of course–I don’t have anything close to a template (and actually, haven’t the first clue how to make one) and it might be awhile before I can import my archives from Blogger (thank you, Blogger and your new beta system), but still–this is major progress.

If you’re here from Adventures in Art, go ahead and bookmark this page, but don’t delete the other one just yet–I intend to keep posting there until I’m fully satisfied with what I have here (and who knows how long that will take).  If you stumbled across this little corner of the web by chance, do me a favor and check out Adventures in Art, my current art blog.

I admit that it’s almost a given to say that this is one of my favorite paintings ever–after all, is there anyone who isn’t blown away by Starry Night? I do love it, though, and I love to talk about it; it moves me emotionally, for reasons I don’t entirely understand. I’m drawn to its dazzling blues and yellows and the vibrant curving lines of the sky that pull me through the painting.

That’s really why I love van Gogh’s landscapes, although landscapes in general do not hold my attention. By and large I find them too static, but van Gogh’s are bursting with life and movement. He takes earth and sky and grass and makes them joyful and compelling.

I heard it suggested once (and I wish I could remember where) that van Gogh was suffering from lead poisoning (or something similar) from prolonged exposure to the chemicals in his paints and the effect it had on his vision might explain the halo effect seen on the stars in Starry Night. I dislike this theory, however interesting and even true it may be, as I dislike all attempts to write off genius as the convenient by-product of disease and mental illness. (That’s another rant for another day, though.)

The other landscape I love particularly (possibly even more than Starry Night) is Wheat Field with Cypresses. It shares some characteristics with Starry Night: the flame-shaped trees, the swirling sky, etc. But what really sets it apart, for me, is its color scheme. I love color and this painting has the perfect contrast between sky blue and golden yellow, my favorite of all possible color combinations. (Vermeer also does this combination very well; one of the reasons I like his work.) Unfortunately, Wheat Field is apparently in someone’s private collection, so I will most likely never see it in person. Starry Night, on the other hand, is at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City, which begs the question: why on earth haven’t I taken a road trip yet?

(Both pictures from Olga’s Gallery. You can click to see them bigger.)

This is the first entry in what I hope will be a semi-frequent series of posts about paintings (and possibly artists) that I really love. Since Guernica by Pablo Picasso probably tops that list, it’s fitting that it should be the first I discuss.

I don’t remember when or where I first stumbled across this painting, but I think it was sometime in high school, quite possibly when I was going through my hippie stage. The painting is powerful even out of its context, but understanding the atrocities which inspired it certainly enhance it. (For a nice article on the history of the painting, check out Wikipedia.) It also helps to have an idea of the painting’s monumental size: 11.5′ tall by 26′ wide–aka, GIGANTIC.

Why do I love this painting? It’s certainly not “pretty” and it’s not as representational as I generally prefer, but I could stare at it for hours anyway. It’s complex, it’s compelling, it’s richly symbolic. Nearly everything about it, in my opinion, is perfect. The monochromatic color scheme complements the starkness of the imagery and also prevents the crowded canvas from looking busy or cluttered. The composition is held together by two strong diagonals which form a triangle in the center, with the lightbulb and the torch (nearly) at its apex (signifying, perhaps, the endurance of hope?). I love this painting because it’s a reminder of how well emotion and art can be synthesized. The pen may be mightier than the sword, but in the right hands, the brush can best them both.

No painting, of course, is as impressive in a book or on a computer screen as it is in person, but this one, especially, I feel like I must see in order to get the full sense of it. Its staggering size can only adds to its pull, which is why “see Guernica in person” (in the Museo del Prado in Madrid) is on my list of things to do before I die.

Picasso is not my favorite artist. I really enjoy some of his paintings, am indifferent to others, and flat-out hate a few, but even if I disliked everything else he ever did, I’d have to love and respect this one.

(Image from Olga’s Gallery.)

Bonus Link (themed, even!): Mr. Picasso Head–good for a little bit of cubist time-wasting. Enjoy.

Two nicely related quotations about design and composition:

“A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)

and

“Beauty is the purgation of superfluities.” (Michelangelo)

If we’re to judge the quotations by their own standards, then I’d say the Michelangelo one wins, by virtue of being more concise, but they’re both excellent advice.  The more I look at art, the more I find myself drawn uncluttered compositions, strong lines, and clean colors.  That’s perhaps one of the reasons I’m so fond of Vermeer.

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In other news, I’ve tentatively started on a new drawing project, the details of which I can’t reveal until sometime after it’s finished, as it’s a surprise for someone.