Nearly always when I come to Seattle I take a course or two at Pratt Fine Art Center or at Gage Academy. This time it was Gage Academy, where I was attracted by Julia Ricketts' class in Sumi-e painting. Black and white. Botanical subjects. A new technique. Yum.
Sumi-e is a Japanese ink-drawing technique that encourages bold moves. Every stroke is a permanent record; there's no going back. This requires confidence, which is wonderful practice for me.
The brushes are different from watercolor brushes, made of softer hair and longer, more flexible. The hair doesn't spring back after a stroke like watercolor brushes. Somehow the hair absorbs enough fluid for long, long strokes, but it will make blots and puddles if you're not moving constantly. It's quite a discipline.
You hold the brush vertically using only your thumb and two fingers, and move your entire arm, not only your wrist, to make a stroke. How easy it is to over-reach! For quick toning of large areas, we used bits of sponge and scribbled in backgrounds or details - fun!
Here's one with shadows added:
We used big paper, 18x24 or even 32x48, measuring in inches. Well, I have been traveling for a year, and hauling big paper around the Continent is impossible. I was used to 7x10 or even 4x6 paper. Hard to make a statement at such a small scale. Big paper is much more fun.
Sumi-e paper from Japan is very soft, and ink spreads relentlessly from one's initial stroke. Also, it goes right through the paper and stains whatever is underneath. Controlling that is frankly beyond me at this early stage. So I was grateful that Julia specified drawing paper, which has less sizing than watercolor paper, and absorbs more ink, but isn't as thirsty as sumi-e paper.
Ink is intense. Somehow it gets a lot more tone per milliliter of water. Somehow it seems way more brilliant than any color. Amazing how that works.
We got into color too. You can start with blobs of pale color and later add details in stronger color. Or, you can start with the details and later superimpose paler color that feels like background.
In this one on the right, the light was coming strongly from one side, washing out the distinctions between blossoms on the right and emphasizing the dark leaves on the left. They don't look like hydrangea leaves, but never mind. The goal in my mind was play, and getting the feel of this new medium. I cut myself slack on perfection.
The photography here is defeating me with this picture of irises - the background should be white, for one thing. I thought of having some of these professionally photographed, but decided against because they are trials and not finished level. I have a new computer, and thus I don't have Photoshop Elements any more. This is Paint.net, and I haven't learned it yet very well. Getting rid of the strip along the right? Hmph. Good luck with that. So I could leave this picture out altogether, but I like the original, and a little imagination will help.
I tend to be very demanding of my painting...if it isn't perfect it's no good at all. This summer was an effort to liberate myself from that binary thinking. I certainly managed imperfection! And yet, I had a good time. I got a kick out of the uncontrollable parts of the picture - even the drips and blotches. The un-realism. I like those blossoms heading out, leaping out of the too-small vase, which can't contain them as they take flight.
I think my painting could actually improve from this experience. Certainly, my attitude toward painting has improved.
Of course, I took this new way of looking at painting out of the classroom and into plein-air. The picture at the top, canas at Volunteer Park in Seattle, was one attempt. Here are two more, dahlias in Donna Ellefson's back yard, and a view of Gasworks Park from a small road next to the Water Patrol. You're not supposed to park there, so I hauled everything in - easel, chair, water, board, paper, ink, palette. Improvements must be made to my haulage, in future.
I'm starting to travel again, so it's back to small paper and only as much as I can carry. No easel. No chair. Everything little. Hoping for good outcomes, as long as I remember that I'm there to have a good time.
by Nancy
New York City
October 18, 2015
We used big paper, 18x24 or even 32x48, measuring in inches. Well, I have been traveling for a year, and hauling big paper around the Continent is impossible. I was used to 7x10 or even 4x6 paper. Hard to make a statement at such a small scale. Big paper is much more fun.
Ink is intense. Somehow it gets a lot more tone per milliliter of water. Somehow it seems way more brilliant than any color. Amazing how that works.
We got into color too. You can start with blobs of pale color and later add details in stronger color. Or, you can start with the details and later superimpose paler color that feels like background.
In this one on the right, the light was coming strongly from one side, washing out the distinctions between blossoms on the right and emphasizing the dark leaves on the left. They don't look like hydrangea leaves, but never mind. The goal in my mind was play, and getting the feel of this new medium. I cut myself slack on perfection.
The photography here is defeating me with this picture of irises - the background should be white, for one thing. I thought of having some of these professionally photographed, but decided against because they are trials and not finished level. I have a new computer, and thus I don't have Photoshop Elements any more. This is Paint.net, and I haven't learned it yet very well. Getting rid of the strip along the right? Hmph. Good luck with that. So I could leave this picture out altogether, but I like the original, and a little imagination will help.
I tend to be very demanding of my painting...if it isn't perfect it's no good at all. This summer was an effort to liberate myself from that binary thinking. I certainly managed imperfection! And yet, I had a good time. I got a kick out of the uncontrollable parts of the picture - even the drips and blotches. The un-realism. I like those blossoms heading out, leaping out of the too-small vase, which can't contain them as they take flight.
I think my painting could actually improve from this experience. Certainly, my attitude toward painting has improved.
Of course, I took this new way of looking at painting out of the classroom and into plein-air. The picture at the top, canas at Volunteer Park in Seattle, was one attempt. Here are two more, dahlias in Donna Ellefson's back yard, and a view of Gasworks Park from a small road next to the Water Patrol. You're not supposed to park there, so I hauled everything in - easel, chair, water, board, paper, ink, palette. Improvements must be made to my haulage, in future.I'm starting to travel again, so it's back to small paper and only as much as I can carry. No easel. No chair. Everything little. Hoping for good outcomes, as long as I remember that I'm there to have a good time.
by Nancy
New York City
October 18, 2015
Loved this post. Think you would make a fabulous art teacher (and you may have done that too, for all I know, besides being an artist). I'm not artistic but what you say gives me just a glimmering . . .
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