Giraffe

Giraffe and admirers at the Albuquerque, New Mexico, zoo. The photo is from Mike Thomsen, a friend from Mesa, Arizona. — Jer

Color studies: Lucia Salemme — & Jan

Jan and I continue our explorations of color (Color Exercises for the Painter by Lucias Salemme), and, glory be, we have reached Exercise 4. Exercise 4 calls for a painting rather than samples (see the photo above) of what you can do with various pigments. Because Jan (daughter) and I figure this is a good 5 year project and excellent for mother-daughter bonding as well as gathering of gossip, we make slow progress — we work only on Sundays when both of us are available and we don’t try to do too much in any one session.

So Sunday the 28th of June, we got to paint a landscape in “earth” colors. One of Salemme’s charms is that the book was published in 1970 (smells sort of musty) and uses concepts and language current during that period. My more hip artist friends have been a trifle critical of its drawbacks, but I, being ancient, see them as historical artifacts which might actually contain bits of truth.

At any rate, in Exercise 4, we were to use the “earth colors” and make an actual landscape: the paints “allowed” are raw umber, burnt umber, raw sienna, burnt sienna, yellow ochre, Indian Red, and terre verte (which Salemme call “green earth”, which I couldn’t find anywhere and am assuming that for artistes, the French has come to serve the same purpose).

Here’s Jan, excited about the prospect of painting and practicing her measuring skills. Or something:

Note that there’s nothing on the boards on her easel. She’s holding the instructions, which tend to be the opposite of Betty Edwards, our last artist companion. Edwards spelled everything out in such detail that we were left gasping; Salemme is pretty cavalier about what to do. “Paint a landscape. Use a rag to wipe out the light spots. Don’t use anything but earth colors until you near the end of the process.” OK, we can do that.

I disliked my painting, and so won’t make it visible, but Jan, who worked from the cover of a book about painting landscapes by John Carlson, did beautifully. You didn’t know that genes worked backwards through the family structure, did you?

Already her sense of color seems to exceed mine. I’m going out today and copy what she did — but hush, don’t tell her. After all, I am her mother and supposed to be the expert in all things. I wouldn’t want her to know otherwise. –June

By the way, Comcast shut down totally last night and is incredibly slow this AM, so my daily post, which normally is set to appear at 5 AM Pacific time, is now going to upload now, at 9:30. Or so I hope.

Obie’s Bridge

Obie’s Bridge crosses Tryon Creek in Tryon Creek State Natural Area.  The park is mostly in Portland and partly in the city of Lake Oswego. — Jer

East Portland Branch, Public Library, painted at last

I’ve been wanting to paint an A.E. Doyle building, the “East Branch,  Portland Public Library” for a year now, ever since someone pointed out that it was just down the street from Southeast Main, at SE Alder and 11th Avenue. These are old stomping grounds for my paintings — I did a whole series at SE Alder and 6th, so this building and perhaps some of its surrounds were an apt subject.

Wikipedia has a nice article on the building. But painting it isn’t easy. The front facade, with various ornamentations and wonderfully kept flower boxes at the windows, is hidden by trees. It faces north, on a street not often traveled, and is surrounded by industrial and commercial buildings. It hasn’t been a library since the ’60’s, but being part of the Carnagie Library system, it has character that remains, even as its function has disappeared. I am particularly fond of the rounded back section, still intact with its high ceiling. It’s been truncated by renovation, but is a space that is rented by the Shambala Meditation Center, so I suspect it feels good, even if ill-proportioned.

I painted it from a parking lot, sited next to a chain link fence, that separated the Security Alarm Service cars from the Plaid Pantry that is on Morrison and 12th Ave. I got lots of visitors, including one fellow who wanted me to take his fist full of quarters and buy him a beer from the Plaid Pantry. I declined, and then subsequently learned that he was probably banned from the business — at least one of the clerks told him to stop bothering her customers. I also encountered a number of workers in the building, who told me its layout and why there was a bicycle  leaning against one of the windows. It seems that the original grand hall of the building, with 20 foot ceilings, had been made into two floors, and the bicycle in the window wasn’t on a table, as it looked. It was actually on the floor. I haven’t put in the bike yet in my painting, but it will appear in the window on the right. This is, after all, Portland.

East Branch, Portland Public Library Building from the east side. 18 x 24″, oil on board, 2009

That was Thursday. Then Friday, I returned and found another spot from which the rotunda could be painted. So I set up on a sidewalk on Morrison Street, where I could listen to the bicyclists yell at the drivers, the pedestrians yell at the bicyclists, and the drivers boom their stereos so they couldn’t hear either. I didn’t have anything but casual and comfortable encounters with passersby– not a single panhandler came along. This painting was finished just an hour or so ago (I’m writing this Friday evening), so I haven’t had a chance to work it over. I do need to indicate that the smell of roasting coffee comes from the concrete block, brightly painted set of buildings, that sit behind (facing Morrison) of the back of the old library.

East Branch, Portland Public Library Building, from the south side, 18 x 24″, oil on board, 2009.

I have started another painting of the front facade. Last fall I took photos of it when the leaves were off the trees, so some of its architectural features can be seen. I may cover them over with full foliage, but I will know that they are there.

The last two days of paintings have been great — I’m back to my wonky city-scapes and the weather has been perfect. The wind on Morrison Street almost dumped my palette and mineral spirits, but I caught the easel in time and no harm was done. I impressed a couple of whippersnappers who didn’t think I could move that fast. Or at least I like imagining that I impressed them. I certainly impressed myself! –June

Half-lit fern

Lots of these around here. — Jer

Elk Rock Gardens at the Bishop’s Close

The Bishop’s Close is a manor house and extensive gardens owned by the Episopalian Church. It was donated to the church by the daughters of the original owners, with the stipulation that the gardens be opened to the public. It’s where I have painted a few times, and last weekend, after the big rainstorm, friends from Corvallis and Jer and I went back to the Garden. The rains had pretty much destroyed the crop of blooms that Jane and I had painted around the week before, but there were still treasures to be observed. And more blooms are budding, ready to explode.

Bonneville Dam

Bonneville Dam, looking upstream from the Oregon side of the Columbia River — Jer