Hemp Canvas

Artists are constantly presented with choosing from a huge array of different materials in their craft. Among these the use of canvas as a painting surface.

Canvas is commonly made from either linen or cotton. Linen is the best material, it is strong and durable. In comparison, cotton duck canvas is inferior in most ways to linen, but is less expensive.

Historically, another option existed for artists: hemp. Hemp predominated use in artists canvas up until fairly recently. Chances are that any Old Master painting on view in a museum will be made from this material. The word canvas itself even draws its roots from cannabis.

Jokes about smoking hemp aside, what differentiates hemp from linen? Regular linen canvas comes from fibers extracted from the flax plant. In comparison hemp is stronger than linen, and should be less prone to rot. Hemp requires fewer resources to grow, leading to a lower price for the material, and environmental advantages.

The major challenge of using hemp, was finding a weave of canvas suitable for painting on. Being a niche material, there were not a lot of options for suppliers, and information was lacking. I ordered several types of canvas from different companies, to try out. These experiments revealed many of them to be unsuitable. I had issues with the canvasses either not absorbing a size properly, or not tightening properly when size was applied.

There was one product that I used successfully, made by a company called Soho Urban Artist. This products was made specifically for artist use, and was a bit more expensive than other canvasses. It had a characteristic coarse weave, commonly seen in certain works such as those of Velazquez. I love the effect of the coarse texture, so I am pleased to be painting on it myself.

 A comparison of different types of canvas. On the left is the hemp canvas, the right a fine belgian linen. The coarse textured weave is noticeable.

Two types of coarse hemp canvas. The sample on the left failed to stretch properly when sized; it bound up That sample was discarded

The final choice of hemp canvas stretched and sized. It performed exactly as expected, accepting the size and tightening properly.
.

Goshen Pass

Goshen Pass

Oil on Wood Panel 9" x 12"

Some Recent Experiments

One of the benefits of hand-made paint,  is the ability to customize paint any way one desires. Working with a fairly limited palette, I find myself frequently mixing the same colors in the course of a painting. Why not streamline things, by having these colors conveniently available, premixed in a tube?

 The first example was inspired by a tube of "Naples Yellow" I had on hand from Old Holland. This is not a true Naples Yellow, not even close. I found it very useful however, for painting flesh tones. Old Holland lists the pigments that makes up their colors on every tube of paint. The color in question was a mix of Synthetic Yellow Iron Oxide, and Titanium White.  My color was very similar, combining a pale French yellow ochre, mixed with white.

The next example was a different kind of experiment. My intention was to see if I could create an close replacement of Vermillion/Cinnabar, for situations where I didn't have the genuine article. The exact qualities of the color cant be duplicated so I would call this an approximation rather than a substitute.

Vermillion has the contradictory qualities of being both intense, yet capable of subtlety. This makes it excellent for the tints used in flesh tones. Cadmium red by comparison, comes on strong, yet fades much more quickly in mixes.

Modern imitations usually rely on Cadmium Red for the base color with small amounts of Synthetic Organic red to improve its chroma in tints.

My mix was a combo of Cadmiums for an orange red, with a bit of Synthetic Red Iron Oxide for earthiness. I was aiming more for Cinnabar than Vermillion. I mixed in a bit of Calcite to give the pigment some added transparency and body. I didn't have a sample of the raw pigment on hand, so the final result was based on my personal impressions of the color
.

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.