Copying at the Met

I recently had the opportunity to copy paintings at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. After a bit of paperwork and a long wait, I was invited to copy the artist of my choice, mainly in the European Masters collection.

The painting I chose was Velazquez's Juan de Pareja. One of his best portraits at the museum. It was an exciting opportunity. I have almost admired the work of Velazquez. Having spent so much time researching traditional materials, mixing my own paint, trying to decipher old techniques, I had a chance to work in front of the real thing.

I entered the room, set up and got to work with a bit of trepidation. I wanted my copy to do justice to the real thing, in a way that I never felt working from reproductions. After awhile, I settled down, and realized that the work ahead would be just like painting a regular portrait. This is testament to the grounded realism of the painting.  I would undergo the normal challenges of accurately representing shape and proportion. the final result is close, but not perfect.

Museum rules dictated that I maintain a bit of distance between myself and the painting, so that museum goers could still view the painting. I could not close enough to view the intricate details of the painting. This was one big reason I signed up to copy in the first place. The result was a more holistic summary of what I saw. What was most interesting to me: the portrait when seen from reproductions shows a man with a blank expression. Standing in front of the real picture a subtle phantom smile appears.

Natural Light

Having viewed at a lot of studios in recent months, I've been shocked by the often dismal quality of lighting. In particular, many modern studios ignore or waste the potential of natural light sources. Little work is necessary to harness natural light, and it is arguably the best studio light an artist can hope to have.

The Old Masters lacked good sources of artificial light, so their studios were oriented around the goal of getting the best natural light possible. Their knowledge on the subject was well known and understood, up until fairly recently, when cheap electric lighting became practical.

In most cases the best form of natural lighting is based on a simple northern exposure.

What makes north light the best? In the northern hemisphere, it is the only light source in which there is never any direct sunlight. Light from other directions will vary considerably through the day, depending on the position of the sun, and the weather. North light remains consistent and predictable.

The light that does enter through a north-facing window consists of reflected light, the majority of which comes from the sky. This light has been dispersed through the blue-colored molecules of air in the atmosphere, and trends toward the cool side of neutral.

This kind of light is very useful for gauging accurate color. Artists are often frustrated at how different their work can look under different kinds of light. A painting done under the warm cast of a sunset for instance, might look disturbingly cold viewed under fluorescent lights. North light comes closest to a neutral source that achieves good color balance. Paintings done by an artist in the proper studio tend to translate well to other venues, such as galleries or museums.

Sargent at the Brooklyn Museum

The Brooklyn Museum is hosting an exhibition of 80 Sargent paintings this spring, almost entirely watercolors. I have been to see it a couple of times and can report that it is excellent, worth going to see if you are a fan of the artist.

I admit to not having a great interest in watercolors, so going into the show, I wasn't sure what to expect.

I was struck by several things after viewing the images. Sargent approached watercolors relatively late in his career, devoting himself and his consummate technical skills toward achieving unrivaled effects for the medium. He broke many of the typical "rules" of watercolor painting, letting the paint dry and layering very opaque paint in many places.

There was hardly a dud in these collection of images, I never got the sense that Sargent had an "off" day like most of us have from time to
time. This is even more impressive considering that by most accounts, these images were never intended to be sold or shown to the public.

After having completed the first oil sketch, I embarked on a larger one with the same sitter. I had a bit more time to work on this one, a few days as opposed to a couple hours. It was still a challenge to capture a correct likeness that did justice to the sitter in such a short time.

This was a quick oil sketch, done in an hour or two. The model captivated the group around her with her beauty, and even came with a full wardrobe to boot.

Safety and the Lead White Shortage

Lead white oil paint is gradually becoming a scarce commodity, as both artists and manufacturers slowly move towards alternatives. I was shocked to recently discover that a small tube of Old Holland Cremnitz white, now retails for the price of a dinner at a fancy restaurant.

The main reason for this development was the widespread phase-out of lead in paint products. While artist materials were exempt from these restrictions, the overall supply of lead carbonate has dwindled ever since. As I've mentioned before in earlier postings, artist paints are made from generic industrial pigments, with few exceptions. Art materials are a small fraction of the overall pigment market, thus they have little influence over industry trends.

Once of the last European manufacturers of lead carbonate recently ceased production. It is still produced in the US, but many artists feel the writing is on the wall. It is not uncommon to read about individuals hoarding large stockpiles of the pigment, in anticipation of the day when it is no longer available.

I don't think we'll see millions of obsessed artists, having the dedication mixing lead white from scratch. For one thing, the risks of poisoning oneself are far greater when handling the powder. Paints containing lead white tend to not keep well in the tube for long periods, unless stabilizers are included.

The best one can hope, is that in the future lead white will be a remain available, as a high quality niche product, at an attainable price.

A New Miter Saw

In recent weeks I have been busy preparing some of my artwork to be included in a show. There was a relatively short deadline to prepare the work to be ready to hang. I thought it best to frame the work, and decided to make the frames myself.

This marks the third time I have built my own frames. Every time I make a frame, I try to learn a little about how to improve the process the next time around. This includes the proper tools, although I would stop short of spending the small fortune needed to build a professional framer's tool kit.

This time around, I used a hand miter saw, equipped with a fine Japanese blade, to do my cuts. This produces finer and truer cuts than the table-saw method I used for earlier frames. A small amount of touch up work around the seam is still necessary.

Here I am using the new saw to cut a miter into one of the frame pieces. My hand is there to offer up some extra support.

After a frame was glued together and touch up work was complete, the frame was given a fine sanding. Finally, paint will be applied to suit.