Monday, February 21, 2011

Making Panels Part II

Once the panels have been cut to final shape, they can be smoothed and prepared for gesso. I usually sand the panels with a moderate grit sandpaper, making sure that the edges are smooth.

The moisture in real gesso sometimes causes the wood grain to swell, the amount depending on the species. Because gesso is rigid, this can lead to cracking later on. To prevent this, the panels are rubbed down with alcohol, which raises the grain of the wood, Once dry the panels are given a final sanding.

Now I can start coating the panels.















First, the panel was given a few coats of size, made from hide glue. I used rabbit skin glue for this task. The glue was added to water in the correct ratio by weight, and allowed to sit over night. As you can see, it swelled considerably.

The glue was heated until all of the pellets have broken down into liquid. I continue to only use warm water in a sink to heat my glue, a glue pot being overkill. Once liquified, the glue is passed through a sieve, and its ready to be used.

The panels were given several coats of size, front back, and on the sides. The following day, gesso was applied

Real gesso is a mixture of hide glue and an inert white pigment, that is porous. The ground is absorbent, so it readily bonds the layers of paint to the panel, while at the same time isolating the two. There is more than one suitable choice for this material. I have chosen to use calcium carbonate, in the form of chalk. Chalk from the Champagne region of France is one of the most pure natural chalks that can be found.

I saved the leftover glue from sizing my panels, as a base for my gesso. The correct mixture involves adding chalk at 1.5 times this volume of glue.

First the glue must be made hot, then the chalk was slowly added. I stirred gently, taking care not to do so too vigorously. Stirring gesso too enthusiastically will introduce tiny air bubbles into the mixture. Once these bubbles are on the panel, they cannot be filled or removed, no matter how many additional coats of gesso are applied. Once all of the gesso was been added to the glue, it was allowed to soak in for ten minutes.














The panel are given a coat on each side, to seal them effectively. Its important to try to make the coats as even as possible. Gesso puts tension on the wood, and uneven tension could lead to problems later on. An equal number of coats front and back should minimize this stress.

After a coating of gesso is applied, the board was put aside to dry. This lasted twenty minutes to an hour. Then the next coat was be applied and so on. Coats should always be applied in overlapping passes, i.e. a coat across the width of the board should be followed by a lengthwise coat. Five to ten coats should be sufficient to get a good surface. It is possible to get carried away, and produce a beautifully smooth surface. That would require many extra coats, followed by lots of sanding.

Once all of the coats are applied and the panel is dry, there is one last step to prepare the panel. Raw gesso is very hard on brushes, and is too absorbent for oil paints. A final isolating layer needs to be applied to reduce this tendency. A thin layer of glue size is sufficient. Each panel should be given a week or two to dry, and then is ready to be used.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Making Panels

Over the next few weeks I plan on making an assortment of panels for painting. As discussed in my post on painting supports, panels have a variety of pros and cons. I have come to the conclusion that overall they are the best kind of support for works of small to moderate size. For larger works, I will still rely on canvas.

I recently located some furniture-grade, quarter sawn oak boards. These boards were kiln-dried, but had been aged 4-5 years. Oak was the most popular wood for use as a painting support in Northern Europe. It is a fine wood for use as a painting support, as a visit to any museum containing these pictures will demonstrate.












The boards were first cut to the right shape and size. Any final sanding or planing could be done at this time.












A larger panel necessitated joining more than one board together. The lap joint I cut into the boards is a traditional and effective method of joinery. Both halves are from the same board, but have been flipped so that if warpage does occur, there should be a counter effect.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Still Life


Still Life, Objects
Oil on Canvas 9" x 12"
This painting is available. Contact me.

To inaugurate my new studio, I decided to paint a still life. I'm not really much of a still-life painter, but I thought it would be fun to follow a traditional formula. I wanted to see how a new "old" painting would look using the same pigments as the old masters.

The red in the apple is the newly finished Cinnabar. The jar was found by my grandfather underwater, it was very opaque and had a complex patina. I used Lapis lazuli, Azurite and Malachite to get the different shades. The lemon was a mix of Lead tin-yellow, and Naples yellow for the warmer areas of shadow.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Winter


Winter Stream
Oil on Canvas 10" x 8"
This painting is available. Contact me.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Vermilion

Vermilion is a bright, intense red color that has been used by artists since ancient times. It is a color that was indispensable to the Old Masters, for its strength and flexibility.

The color that is known as Vermilion today is only superficially comparable to what was used in the past. The modern color is made from Cadmium. Real Vermilion is made from Mercuric sulfide.

The naturally occurring form of Mercuric Sulfide is the mineral Cinnabar. The majority of mercury found on Earth is in this form. It has been mined for thousands of years as a source of mercury, as an artist's pigment, and even for natural medicine!

Most cinnabar is not of high enough quality to be made into a bright pigment, so a synthetic form was necessary. Ancient Chinese alchemists developed a process to synthesize cinnabar in the laboratory, and that was the beginning of Vermilion. These methods eventually found their way to the west.

Real vermilion has developed a bad reputation as not being stable. Vermilion was often adulterated with inferior products by unscrupulous vendors. Depending on the process used to create it, synthetic vermilion will vary in its stability. Vermilion has been known to darken when exposed to direct sunlight for long periods. In general however, it has proven very stable over time.

Cinnabar is not affected by these issues, so I chose to use it as a basis for making Vermilion pigment. Chinese cinnabar is of very high quality. I purchased it in the form of small pieces and not a powder, to ensure it was genuine. Cinnabar crystals have an unmistakable greasy appearance similar to quartz.

Because Cinnabar is mostly mercury, it is important to take appropriate safety precautions while it is being handled.












An example of roughly ground cinnabar. This was washed over and over again to remove impurities. It was then dried, reground and then washed again. The jars contain the pigment in different series of being washed.












Once dry, I mixed the final color into oil paint:












Cadmium-based colors superseded those of mercury only in the early 20th century, so the majority of art created by man will contain real Vermilion. Real Vermilion is stronger and more intense than cadmium, and will tolerate more extreme color mixes without losing its chromatic purity. It also tends to be much warmer.


An example of Vermilion, from the painting Mars et Rhea Silvia, by Peter Paul Rubens.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

New Work


The Marina
Oil on Canvas 10" x 14"

A small painting I completed a few weeks ago. Its a wonderful opportunity to be able to make my own paints. At the same time I recognize that its going to take me a while to become accustomed to the character of hand mixed paint, which is so different from something that comes out of a tube.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

A New Studio

A while ago, I was very generously offered a new studio space. The studio consists of its own dedicated separate building. Before I could start using the space, I wanted to have everything set up just right.

My preference is always to work from natural light if possible. Before the invention of electricity, buildings were built to maximize light from natural sources. They were oriented so they faced the poles. With more modern buildings this is not always the case; making the best of the lighting is tricky.

I was fortunate to have spent enough time at Charles Cecil studios in Florence, that I knew what changes to make to the studio.

The best natural light comes from a single, high-facing source, preferably to the north. Northern light is the most stable throughout the day. If you can't use northern light, you may have to deal with shadows and highlights that vary considerably from hour to hour.

Another goal should be to minimize the amount of light reflecting around the studio. A high facing window reduces light reflecting off of the ground or surrounding buildings. Cutting down on the number of light sources simplifies the image, making the artist's job easier.


The 19th Century studio of George Inness. Note the single, large window light source.
















The studio before I moved in had more than ample light. The windows to the right are facing north. The other windows will need to be covered.

I don't own the studio, so I couldn't make any major changes to the structure. I needed to use non-destructive means to block the light. The windows didn't have shutters, so they were covered by paper and cloth. The cloth was either attached directly to the wall, or hung from curtain rods.















The complete studio. A few things may need tweaking down the road. Everything has been covered, except the north windows immediately in front of the work. The lower windows have been blocked off halfway as well.

The light piece seen extending out from the top of the skylight, is a piece of foamboard. This directs the light down towards the workspace, cutting down on reflections off the opposite side of the ceiling. Ideally, the whole studio would have been painted black or draped with curtains to cut down on reflected light, but this would not have been practical in this case.















I set up a quick informal still-life, to observe the quality of light with real objects.