May Artist #2: Louis Comfort Tiffany

Okay, maybe I'm being self-indulgent here by choosing Louis Comfort Tiffany as my second artist to study, because I've known I've loved him for a long time. I can't help it. He was an amazingly versatile artist that, aside from some quite hideous lamps, had an incredible grasp on palette, form, and style. I definitely have stuff I can learn from him.

I had always drooled unabashedly over his stained glass pieces, but I didn't know about his regular paintings until I bought the book Louis Comfort Tiffany by Jacob Baal-Teshuva, which is full of gorgeous photos of both his stained glass windows and his paintings (and also his hideous lamps, but we'll pass over that lightly).

So what is it that draws me to Tiffany's work? Well, man -- first of all, I really encourage everyone to follow the links at the bottom of the post to find out more about his life, because it's really fascinating stuff, and also to see more of his art, because it's impossible to represent it well in just a few pieces here.

Tiffany's work is diverse enough that I could really do two posts: one for his paintings and for his windows, but I'm going to only talk about his stained glass for now.

Why I Like The Works from Tiffany Studios:

• Clever use of limited palette. One of the things that I find appealing about these windows is that he used an amazing amount of neutral tones and colored grays/ lavenders/ browns so that the color he did use popped out -- or to create a contemplative mood when the "color" of emphasis was pure white.
  
• Use of strong, simple compositional design rather than color to create interest.
  
• Powerful overall shapes. Stained glass tends towards a certain 2D-ness -- sort of like the layers of 2D cutouts that make scenery on a stage -- and I get the feeling when looking at a Tiffany window that he is embracing that effect and using it to lead me to a very definite focal point.
  
• Strong structural elements. By necessity, he has the edges of the windows giving him strong verticals and horizons, but does that faze Louis? Not hardly. He rocks those strong geometrical shapes with diagonals that constantly guide our eyes where they need to go.
• Recession. I'm not talking about what our economy's doing. I'm talking about how Tiffany pushes those dramatic elements of the composition back by placing bold, intricate shapes in the foreground.
• Application of color. I love that no color in a Tiffany window is single color. Every petal of every iris is three different shades of purple; every brown is streaked with a green in the same value. Strong, simple compositions marked by insanely detailed glasswork and complex, beautiful colors. Lovely.
  
• Idealism. These aren't real places. Well, actually they are. Oyster Bay is, for instance (the top right image). I saw a photograph someone had taken of Oyster Bay from the same angle. Can I tell you it did not look like that window? Tiffany's windows drip with a sort of understated idealism only made tolerable by his beautifully muted palettes.
  

Links:
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Artcyclopedia Images
Ye Olde Wikipedia
And of course the Tiffany book I mentioned above is really the best I've found for luscious images.

Artists of the Month: Nielsen & Bauer

Well. I finally enough time to work a bit more on this (this, for the uninitiated, is my bi-monthly study of the artists Kay Nielsen & John Bauer -- search for their names on my blog searcher to find previous posts on them). I spent part of the afternoon working on putting color into the Bauer sketch I had done last time. I was pretty pleased with the sketch and so I was relatively amazed to find that I made an utter dog's breakfast of colorizing it. Seriously, it looks like a three-year old drew it -- and I have one on hand to prove it (a three year old, not a dog's breakfast). And no, I'm not being modest, it really is awful.

Part of the problem was that I did the sketch on drafting film, which is amazing and greasy and buttery feeling for drawing outlines on -- and very tricky for subtle color.

Well.

Moving on. I decided that, rather than agonize over that sketch, I'm going to try an entirely new one on either pastelbord or paper. Phooeey on drafting film this time around. I also decided that instead of going with something subtle, I was going to try something completely wild and in the style of Nielsen & Bauer. I've had a composition in mind for awhile now and I think this project is the right one to try it on.

So this week, I paid particular attention to Bauer and Nielsen's use of pattern. I also wanted to focus on the elongated forms and the Hiroshige wave that Nielsen makes such effective use of. See the nice wave Nielsen used on his queen's and dancer's butts? (Nielsen's work on left) And look at the patterns of the two dresses that Bauer uses on his queen and his pining swan-woman. I also liked the way that the dresses weren't just a part of the composition -- they were the composition.

I wanted to try something like that. In my head, I had this idea of a stylized queen looking over her shoulder with a dress that looked as if it was stained glass. I desperately wanted to put one of two profoundly beautiful crowns into a piece of 2D art (links to discussions on them here and here, for those of you who are into history); both of them are from the medieval era and both made me catch my breath when I saw them (this from a non-jewelry person)(yes, I am a medieval geek). Sounds like me, right?

So I stared at the Bauer and Nielsen women and tried to determine what made them unique. For one thing, they all had these lovely, Gwyneth Paltrowesque long necks. Man, while I'm going hog-wild with the photos, I might as well show you Gwyneth's neck. See, there she is with her mom. It's obviously genetic.

And fabulous hair! Check it out -- long locks, or major up-dos -- the hair is important. Important, but simplified. Note to Maggie, who likes highlights: simplify. Flatten. SIMPLIFY.

And the faces are delicate, understated, careful. Hmm, I thought, unwisely. I can do this. Of course, by the time I had done all of this work, I had completely used up my study time . . . so it's going to have to wait until next time for the sketches. But I think there's some exciting source material here, and it's something I've wanted to do for awhile . . . so maybe I'll actually finish an entire project next Sunday.

Is anyone else doing this project, or am I by my lonesome?

Complements That Have Already Made People Feel Good

This post took me far too long to do, partially because it took me forever on my dial-up to access all the links people had given me and partially because half the links didn't properly work and I had to work my butt off to figure out where I was actually supposed to go. But I've finally gotten around to it, and hopefully this will serve the purpose of both illustrating some complements at work and also giving some shout-outs to some of my blog readers who make this blog a better place with their comments.

Those who are just appearing can find the original post on complements here. I asked blog readers to send me links to pieces (of theirs or from other people) who intentionally used complements. So here they are. If you click on them, it should take you back to the original page the art appeared on.

Here are the contributors:

Vivien Blackburn. Her seascape is using blue/orange complements and while it's pretty, I cannot emphasize strongly enough that y'all should head over to her blog and look at her other stuff, because some of it is positively transcendental.

Jo Castillo. I love this artist because she has a sort of unflagging, indefatigable web presence that is always inspiring. Her pears are a green/ red complement pair. Whoo pears pairs! I'm enjoying following her sketches on her blog these days . . . makes me want to doodle and sketch more.

Casey Klahn. His blog, The Colorist, is always informative and well written, and he does some amazing stuff with pastels. He's also got another helpful blog on the nitty gritties of art fairs that I recommend to art fair newbies. His piece here is using pinks and light greens -- yes, people, those are complements as well.

Karen Mathison Schmidt. Her cat piece here uses blues and oranges, and it is nice . . . but not as nice as some of the really loose, blocky pieces on her blog. She has this one that I really want!

Barbie Bud. If for nothing else, I would love Barbie for her wonderful comments! But she's a promising artist too -- her piece here is blues and oranges (seems to be a popular set of complements). If you look at her blog, check out her use of darks . . . we could all learn something from that understated palette.

Meg Lyman. Check out this quirky guy! Red/ Green -- see how powerful that color combination is? Meg is a very competent artist with a fascinating peculiar style that I can't seem to look away from. :D


Melanie Rich. I actually hadn't visited her website before today, but I'm glad I did. She's got a cool, blocky style that appeals to me and her fishy piece fits into our complement theme as well - more orange/blue popping.

Christy Branston. At first I thought this piece didn't really illustrate complements well, but then I read her explanation again: "Everything seemed really dull until I read about combining yellow with purple, so I tried putting purple on the white flowers, and that made the flower pop right out from the yellowish leaves." And it's true. It did work.

And of course, thanks to Katherine and Cooper for their suggestions (Cooper, I couldn't get your Wolf Kahn link to work), and to Dhara for recommending I take a look at the Munsell Color System, which is another version of the color wheel worth looking at. I actually like his complements better and think that they're what I tend towards anyway.

Artist(s) of the Month(s): John Bauer

"Still Wolf" - outline for work in progress.
colored pencil on drafting film.

Okay, first of all, I apologize for being behind on blog comments and posting. Phew. It's been a crazy week. Second of all, I did find the time to study one of the artists of the month, John Bauer.

Last Sunday I looked at Kay Nielsen and did some wolf sketches in his style -- this week I decided I'd tackle the same subject after studying Bauer and work the finished piece from whichever sketch I preferred.

John Bauer (nice collection of his work here), a nineteenth-century Swedish
artist, fascinated me because of his whimsical, idealized drawing, his limited palette, and his beautiful use of darks. You guys should know by now that this is the real way to get me excited. Add to Bauer's work a tragic life story (he drowned with wife and child at a young age) and he becomes a poster child for drawing well and succeeding early before you kick the bucket. Take that, procrastinators! Anyway, his work complements fellow Swede (funny sounding word, that) Kay Nielsen's nicely.

The main problem with Bauer is that he died young and left behind little written evidence of his existence. Especially in English. So the only tools I have to really study this artist who showed such promise are a very limited biography and the relatively small collection of works available online.

Still, am I dissuaded by this? Nah! So, here is what I learned from my study of Bauer today.

• His palette is extraordinarily limited, possibly a function of where his art was going to be used, reproduced in books
• He often used the darkness to emphasize a single, light subject
• Though his work was finely drawn illustration work, he wasn't afraid to omit details to simplify and stylize
• He loved drawing hair
• Hair is very cool (note to self)
• His subjects are very simple. Each image immediately and efficiently tells a story.
  
• One of the biographies I read said that he took a month-long hike through the mountains with a sketchbook and that he used these impressions for the rest of his artistic career, simplifying the forests and stripping everything nonessential away
• His female subjects were frequently shown in profile

At right you can see my first wolf sketch (and you can see which Bauer piece I based it on). I think this is the sketch I'll end up doing my finished piece from -- or at least the first piece I do based on these artists this month. I also would like to take a page from Bauer's notebook and do some simplified sketches of the woods around my house. I've mentioned before that trees are a weak point of mine.

Debbie was kind enough to send me a list of links for John Bauer (thank you so much, Debbie). So please peruse them and in the next few days I'll be doing a follow-up post on complementary colors, with all the great links you guys have sent me.

http://www.bpib.com/illustrat/bauer.htm

http://bauer.artpassions.net/

http://www.artsycraftsy.com/bauer_prints.html

http://www.johnbauersmuseum.nu/diverse/english.html

http://www.animationarchive.org/2006/11/illustration-john-bauers-bland-tomtar.html

http://www.animationarchive.org/2006/07/meta-top-ten-reasons-to-contribute-to.html#illustration

http://www.dogpile.com/dogpile/ws/results/Web/John%20Bauer/1/417/TopNavigation/Relevance/iq=true/zoom=off/_iceUrlFlag=7?_IceUrl=true

http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/illustrations/index.

Complements Make People Feel Good

"Royal" - work in progress, 16 x 20" colored pencil on board

Notice that I said "complements" with an E not "compliments" with an I. I thought I would talk today about complements, because I'm using a lot of them on my latest portrait commission (above, vaguely crappy photo).

Back when I was first starting out as an artist, I found color theory about as meaningful as the lyrics to a Foo Fighters song. It seemed like a pointless rationalization of something that ought to be intuitive. Like coming up with a formula for the perfect kiss, or drawing a diagram on how to create a great symphony.

Sigh. Like so many other things I thought when I was starting out, I was wrong. Art is intuitive, but it is also technical. And you should know the rules so that you can break them. Color theory is something everyone ought to know. So. Behold the color wheel. It's probably familiar enough to you that you're saying "so what?"

Everything what, that's what. You'll need to know it to find complementary colors. I have it memorized by now, but I still remember when I didn't. Ah, I was such a young grasshopper.

WHAT ARE COMPLEMENTARY COLORS?
Complementary colors are colors directly opposite from each other on the color wheel. Yellow-purple. Orange-blue. Green-red. Etc. You can have as many nuances in complementary colors as you have shades of a color.

WHAT GOOD ARE COMPLEMENTARY COLORS?
When used intentionally and thoughtfully, they can subconsciously change the way a viewer sees your painting, to emphasize a subject, create a mood, or create depth (just like composition works subtly behind the scenes). There are two main ways to use them: combining them and using them next to each other in their pure forms.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I COMBINE COMPLEMENTARY COLORS?
If you combine (as in mix) two colors opposite each other on the color wheel, you'll dull down the resulting mix. For instance, let's say I have a beautiful yellow color that I'm painting an elephant in my portrait (don't ask questions. Just imagine.). I need to create a sense of depth on this elephant. Something subtle, to indicate that its butt is farther away from the viewer than the honkin' trunk. (did anyone notice that an elephant is like a Porsche? Both of them have the trunks in the front?) I could theoretically put in a bit of a purple into the yellow. It would gray down the yellow and push that yellow backwards in the image.

Or let's say you're painting some grass. You have a pretty nasty grass green color that comes straight out of the paint tube. Mix in some red and I guarantee you'll get a color that looks green but has a subtle depth.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I USE COMPLEMENTARY COLORS NEXT TO EACH OTHER?
Two complementary colors put next to each other but not combined will make each of the colors seem more vibrant. Blue and gold will become beautifully blue and gold. Green and red will be freakin' Christmas on steroids. Purple and yellow . . . you get the idea. James Gurney has a few illustrations of this on his blog (which as I mentioned before, I highly recommend). And you can see how I chose complementary colors for my portrait. The sky is all blues and purple and the ground is all yellow and orange. The effect in person is an idealized summer day where the color springs off the board.

This is a good thing.

If any of my readers can come up with good examples of paintings that use complementaries (even if they're theirs), please post them in the comments and I'll pull the links out to put in an actual post.

January/ February Artists for Study

"The Twelve Dancing Princesses" - Kay Nielsen.

Long-time readers of this blog will remember that I began 2007 by studying John Singer Sargent for the month. In 2007 I also studied Van Gogh, Maxfield Parrish, J. W. Waterhouse, and Whistler, but none of them influenced me quite as much as John Singer Sargent. For a month, I immersed myself in his work and finally produced an image based on what I learned from him. His use of darks and lights completely changed the way I looked at my art and sent me miles ahead on my journey.



I'd love to do that again this year, and I think I may have some time in the next two months to devote to studying. So my goal again is to immerse myself in an artist's* work for the time alloted, produce a piece of work based upon what I've learned, and put links to any other artists reading this blog who are also participating in the project. *A safely dead artist.



I have an unhealthy fascination with illustration and fantasy, so for January and February, I'll be looking at two Nordic illustrators from the beginning of the 20th century: Kay Nielsen and John Bauer. You might be looking at their work and saying holy cow, batman, that looks nothing like maggie, and you would be right. But my goal is not to look like them -- it's to take what I like of their work and incorporate it into my own.



So what do I like? I like that the pieces are dark, which makes the light more meaningful. I like that they are simple, but say a lot. I love the high, tall compositions of Kay Nielsen. I like the limited palette and the clever use of both 2D and 3D effects to draw the eye. I like the fanciful compositions that are entirely from the artist's head. I think I could learn from them. Nay, I know I could learn from them.


So what I'm going to do is work on my studying every Sunday. That makes it manageable for me and gives me a goal to shoot for (there I am again, on about these goal-things). Anyone who wants to join in can feel free to comment on this blog and leave the link for their blog-post on the subject. It's a great way to share the blog-traffic around, make new friends, and learn more about what we love: art. And little girls kissing bears.


So who's with me?! Raaah!!