Friday, December 27, 2019

Mantras for the New Year

"Hydrangea Twosome"
16 x 12, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
It's that magic time, when one year is drawing to a close and a new one is just about to dawn. I always relish this interval, especially the week between Christmas and New Years. Much of the world almost seems to stand still. I like to reflect on things that have grabbed my attention during the past twelve months, which I hope to implement in my work over the coming twelve months. Here are a few of those "Guiding Words" that I have written in my sketch book this year. All are mantras for the New Year. Ideals to strive for!


"Paris Pont
12 x 8, Oil on Cartón
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
(SOLD)
"Life is so compacted, intricate and unknowable. I try to break it down, capture some of that confusion, hoping to simplify but contain all that I have observed.  I try very hard to leave out as much as I can, until it screams at me to put it in. I want the viewer's brain to say the unsaid." --Ishbel Myerscough

"Atmospheric Hills"
6 x 12, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
"The draftsman navigates between statement and suggestion to create movement and life--as in literature, descent into too much description kills the image." --John Lessore

"Murs from Below"
10 x 16, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
(SOLD)
"There is no beauty without empty space. There is no music without silence." --Dominique Loreau

"Living Room Wing Chair"
12 x 8, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
"One only does well by being succinct, and one can only be succinct by seeing little." --Edgar Degas


Wednesday, December 11, 2019

Come Inside

(c) Lesley Powell 2019

As the weather has grown cooler, my attention has turned indoors, and I have been working on paintings of interior spaces. Something about the early nightfall and the chill in the air draws me inward, and fosters a desire to snuggle down in a cozy room. Preferably one with a fire glowing in the hearth!

"Parisian Salon"
Oil on Linen, 10 x 10
(c) Lesley Powell 2019

True confessions: I find interiors very difficult to paint well. So much perspective, so many angles. I have been told that the human eye is very ready to perceive the elements of a landscape--it is simply in our DNA. We are hard wired to understand the land. But if the viewer is to perceive and understand an interior, an architectural space, it must be well drawn and carefully color tuned. Easier said than done!

(c) Lesley Powell 2019

One issue in painting interiors (for me, at least) is that my subjects of choice are rarely places that allow me to set up and easel and work on location with oil paints and solvents. Too much risk of spillage. Photos are not great resources either, because most camera lenses cause a lot of distortion when it comes to interiors. I can, however, make pen and ink sketches, or charcoal drawings, on location. I use these as a springboard for the oil paintings. Sometimes I work exclusively from the sketches and don't even refer to my photos.

"Living Room at Night"
Oil on Linen, 12 x 7.5
(c) Lesley Powell 2019

In this post, I'm sharing some sketches I have done recently on location, as well as paintings based on them. The rooms range from an elegant Parisian apartment we rented on vacation, to my own living room. 

(c) Lesley Powell 2019

I'm concluding with a work in progress. I really like the "bones" of this one, but the hard part comes in taking it from here to the finish line. Wish me luck!


Sunday, December 1, 2019

Going Public


"Passerby"
Oil on Cardboard, 7 7/8 x 11
Félix Vallatton, 1897

Whenever I visit a special exhibit at a museum, I always catch my breath to see a previously unexhibited painting that is on loan from a private collection. Such a rare treat! I marvel at the luxury it must be for those private collectors to live every day with paintings by Manet, or Bonnard, or Vuillard--right there in their dining rooms


"Yellow Gable"
Oil on Cardboard, 11 7/8 x 10 5/8 in.
Maurice Denis, c. 1895

Occasionally, through the great generosity of a collector, an entire collection comes into the public realm (rather than being parceled off and auctioned to private purchasers). One such occasion is being heralded now, at the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C. The Nabis collection of Roger Sant and his late wife Vickie Sant has been pledged as a future gift to The Phillips Collection, and the works are now being shown in a special exhibit that runs through January 26, 2020. The exhibit is entitled "Bonnard to Vuillard: The Intimate Poetry of Everyday Life".


"Apprentices"
Oil on Cardboard, 12 x 9 in.
Édouard Vuillard, c. 1891-92

You don't have to have been reading this blog very long to know how much I love the Nabi painters, and especially Vuillard and Bonnard. The Nabis were a loosely organized group of avant-garde French painters working in the 1890's. They rebelled against the old-line, classical academies of art, as well as against the new-fangled Impressionists. 


"Street Scene"
Oil on Cardboard, 10 1/4 x 133/8 in.
Félix Vallotton, 1895

Although their styles were diverse, the Nabis were united by certain common factors. Their paintings tended to focus on scenes of domestic life, and they employed abstracted shapes of vibrant color. They often disregarded the rules of vanishing point perspective, so that their scenes were "flattened" into into an arrangement of color patterns. In fact, the words of one of the Nabis, Maurice Denis, became a sort of rallying cry for the group:


Remember that a painting--
before being a bottle horse, a nude woman,
or an anecdote of some sort--
is above all a flat surface
covered with colors
arranged in a certain order.

"Sleeping Woman"
Oil on Cardboard, 10 1/2 x 10 1/2 in.
Édouard Vuillard, 1892

The term "Nabi" is from the Hebrew word for prophet. Some say that these painters paved the way to what we know today as modern art. And yet their diversity and the quickly changing times led to an early disbandment. The Nabis held their final exhibit in 1900, and then went their separate ways, each going on to develop his own style and body of work. But the Phillips exhibit shows the group at its zenith.  I can't wait to see it.  If you can't make it to the exhibit, the book that accompanies the exhibit is excellent--well worth a look. We all owe a debt of gratitude to the Sant family for this transformative gift.

PS: It seems that the Nabis are having "a moment"--another Nabi, Félix Vallotton (some of whose works are pictured above), is the subject of a major current exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum in New York....



Wednesday, November 27, 2019

Happy Thanksgiving!




I'm grateful to all of you
who read my posts
and share my art world...

Wishing you all a very
Happy Thanksgiving!



Thursday, November 14, 2019

Paris on Cartón

"Child Playing"
43.8 x 57.8 cm, Oil on Cardboard
Édouard Vuillard

For my recent trip to Paris, I packed a stash of cartón panels. What, you might ask, are cartón panels? They are the modern day equivalent of the tan cardboard that was used by some great painters of the past. I love painting on cartón! The paper panels are very lightweight, and the color is fantastic. The warm brownish hue really suits me, and saves me from the toning process that I would usually need with other forms of oil painting paper. (For fellow painters: I order them here).


"Vase of Flowers on a Mantelpiece"
Oil on Cardboard, 36.2 x 29.5 cm
Édouard Vuillard, 1900
Another benefit of using cartón when traveling is that the surface is rather absorbent, which causes the oil paint to dry more quickly. Always a big plus when you are on the move!

Cartón was an especially appropriate choice for Paris, because it speaks of a past era of Parisian paintings. Who can think of Édouard Vuillard without remembering his wonderful use of that brown cardboard? I am always intrigued by the way parts of the cardboard are left showing through in the finished painting. It unifies the painting, and I think it helps show the hand of the artist, because we see what was left un-painted.


"Woman Curling her Hair"
Oil on Cartón, 56 x 39 cm
Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, 1876-1900
While in Paris, I saw a wonderful Toulouse-Lautrec exhibit, which featured a number of works on cardboard or cartón. The surface lends itself to paintings that are quasi-unfinished, or with a lot of background showing. Love these!


"Woman with Black Boa"
Oil on Cartón, 53 x 41 cm
Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, 1892

I'm concluding with one of my own paintings on cartón. One image shows the cartón margins, and the other shows what the painting would look like if matted to cover the cartón. Which approach do you prefer? I'd love to hear from you...





"View from Pont Sully"
Oil on Cartón, 10.5 x 7.5 inches
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
(SOLD)















Saturday, November 2, 2019

The Painter & The Sketchbook



Da Vinci Sketchbook
Greetings from Paris! I have been taking in the museum exhibits here, and it is like drinking from the proverbial firehose. Way too much to digest at once! So many thoughts, so many sights, so many emotions. For this post, I will share just one thought--a thought that has been reinforced with each and every exhibit I have seen: a painter is never without a sketchbook at hand. 

 Palezieux Sketchbook
Giacometti Sketchbook
This, of course, is not new news. It's a time honored practice. and even in the 21st century, experts on creativity admonish us painters to keep our sketchbooks handy. So I have a new resolution, and you can guess what it is!



Giacometti Sketchbooks

It's thrilling when special exhibits include the artists' sketchbooks. Seeing them allows you to take a peek inside the painters' minds. I love to look at the sketches--they are the birthplace of ideas.  Alas, the sketchbooks are in glass cases, but at least they are open to selected pages, and at least I can see the size of the notebook, the type of paper, and the way the ideas were crammed in. 

Da Vinci Notebook
I'm illustrating this post with photos of sketchbooks of Degas, da Vinci, Alberto Giacometti, and also some lesser knowns. Each unique, each illustrative of the mind of the artist. Enjoy!

Willem Basiaan Tholen Sketchbooks

Degas Sketchbook

Monday, October 21, 2019

Another Toulouse

"Carmen Gaudin" (detail)
Oil on Canvas, 52.9 x 40.8 cm
Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, c. 1884

We all know the artist Toulouse-Lautrec for his avant garde posters and his depictions of black-stockinged prostitutes. But I have just seen a wonderful exhibit at the Grand Palais in Paris that introduced me to another side of his work. The exhibit places Lautrec in the line of “expressive realism”, alongside Manet and Degas. His portraits are far from the caricatures we think of when we think of his posters.


"Portrait of Vincent Van Gogh"
Crayon on Carton, 57 x 46 cm
Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, 1887

Early in his career, Lautrec studied in the Parisian atelier of Fernan Cormon, along with fellow student Van Gogh. His friendship with Van Gogh must have been the impetus for the portrait above. The portraits are beautifully crafted, and their colors so delicately and sensitively noted.


Henri Toulouse-Lautrec

Besides admiring Lautrec's portraits, I was especially taken by his drawings. Like so many artists, he was constantly sketching and drawing. It was a way of capturing life and honing his skills. In fact, draftsmanship always underlies his work. 

Henri Toulouse-Lautrec

I loved the way the exhibit highlighted the way that Lautrec evolved to become more and more concise. Over time, his work began to emphasize the simple gesture, and the primary emotion of his subject--sometimes even leaving the impression that the canvas was unfinished. He could convey so much with selected features, and just a few marks of color! You can see how his move toward concision and selectivity paved the way to his posters, which are masterpieces of those traits.

"Yvette Guilbert"
Oil n paper, mounted on canvas, 58 x 44 cm
Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, 1894

Some of his paintings toe the line between paintings and drawings. They were some of my favorites. I'm including a few here--enjoy!


"Femme se Frisant"
Oil on Carton, 56 x 39 cm
Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, c. 1884
If you are lucky enough to visit Paris this winter, the exhibit runs until January 27, 2020. Worth seeing!

Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Time Will Tell



I have recently relocated my studio. The experts say that moving is stressful, and I can attest that moving one's "creative space" from familiar to unknown territory can indeed be traumatic. But despite the upheaval--or maybe because of it--there are triumphs to be had. 

"Stones of Time"
9 x 5, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
First, I love my new space, and the wonderful light it gets from two different exposures. More on that later. The big story for today is the experience of the "Aha Moments" that occurred upon seeing paintings that have been in the closet for months, or even years.

"Near Kenwood"
8 x 16, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
I've written before about the process of destroying old paintings that never worked out. Those paintings were obvious failures. But there is an entirely different category of painting that lurks in the hidden corners of the studio: paintings that were pleasing in many respects, but that were not quite right. Something was missing, or something was wrong, and I could not figure out what it was. So the canvases were banished to the closet.  

"Stone Spans"
9 x 12, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
And in the closet they stayed, until my recent move. I was forced to face them all, and decide whether they lived or died. It's amazing how one can see with fresh new eyes after taking a long breather from an old painting. In some cases, the "Aha Moment" revealed that there was no fix, that the painting had to go. In other cases, a quick glance was all that was needed to tell me exactly what was wrong, or missing, and how to fix it. In those latter cases, the "Eureka!" feeling was a real high. It's as if the solution needed months to incubate and was finally revealed. Maybe an angle needed to be corrected, or a color muted. Maybe a detail needed to be added, or eliminated. In any event, making those corrections finally brought the paintings to completion, and I felt as if I was ushering an old friend out of hiding, and into the real world of the studio. I'm illustrating this post with some of these paintings, and hope you'll enjoy them...


Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Take a Closer Look


"Kevin's Nasturtium"
Oil on Linen, 35 x 25 cm
(c) Sarah Spackman

I must confess to a renewed crush on still life paintings. What is it that we love about still life paintings? Perhaps it is that they show us the beauty in ordinary objects. Or that they teach us to observe things more carefully. A great still life painting shows you something you have never seen before, about an object that you have looked at often. It awakens a delight in the everyday.


"Autumn Pears"
Oil on Board, 25 x 30 cm
(c) Sarah Spackman
Not only have I been working on a new still life series of my own, I have been basking in the wisdom of some of my favorite (living) still life painters. These painters lavish so much love and attention on their subjects that you can practically feel it. There is something almost reverent in their attitudes toward their subjects--no matter how commonplace those subjects may be. 


"I Saw Three Figs"
Oil on Board, 20 x 25 cm
(c) Sarah Spackman 2017
One wonderful still life painter that I have recently "discovered" is Sarah Spackman, a British painter. Sarah's compositions are simple, but arresting. I have read that all of the objects in her still life paintings have been given to her, or acquired for certain specific qualities. It is clear that she feels a very personal connection to all of these objects. 

I have also become a fan of Erin Lee Gafill. Erin is a Californian, and my favorites among her beautiful still life work also feature simple things--fruits, citrus, simple vessels. Her paintings almost cry out: "Slow down, pay attention--you're missing out on the beauty around you." 


(c) Erin Lee Gafill, 2019
Both Spackman and Gafill are what I'd call "painter's painters". Their application of paint is juicy and deliberate. The color relationships in their paintings are carefully observed, and scrupulously mixed. It's clear that their perception has been carefully honed. Faithful readers know that perceptual painting is my true love, so you can see why I am so enamored of their work. These paintings speak of time spent, lovingly, with their subjects, deep in observation.


(c) Erin Lee Gafill
I'm illustrating this post with paintings by Spackman and Gafill. I hope I'll have some of my own new still lifes ready for a future post...


Monday, September 2, 2019

Manet and Modern Beauty


"Moss Roses in a Vase"
Oil on Canvas, 22 x 13 5/8
Edouard Manet, 1882
It's the last week of the exhibit, and I'm afraid I am going to miss it. The Art Institute of Chicago has mounted what by all accounts is a magnificent show that features Edouard Manet's late works. Manet was undoubtedly a catalyst in the art world, moving away from the old-school "salon" style of painting (think large, formal, multi-layered paintings of historical and biblical subjects) and entering a new, modern style of painting (think scenes of contemporary life, loosely painted, often alla prima in one session). Manet was a truly a pioneer in making modern urban life an acceptable subject for fine art.

"Jeanne"
Oil on Canvas, 29 1/8 x 20 1/4
Edouard Manet, 1881

The Chicago exhibit is entitled "Manet and Modern Beauty", and runs until September 8, 2019. It focuses on later works, from the years shortly before Manet's death in 1883. Among them are lovely portraits of finely dressed women--feminine beauty in all its glory. The painting just above, "Jeanne", was a hit at the Paris Salon of 1882. But then it passed into private hands and faded from view. It was eventually purchased by the Getty Museum for $65 Million. Today it is the star of the Chicago show.

"Flowers in a Crystal Vase"
Edouard Manet, 1882

The show also includes a number of small floral works. I love these! They tell me of an eye for beauty in the simple things, and a sensitivity to beautiful color relationships. Manet painted these works during a time of difficult health struggles and acute physical pain. As written in the IRIS publication of the Getty: " Fresh, intimate, and unapologetically pretty, the late work demonstrates his defiant embrace of beauty and pleasure in the teeth of acute physical suffering."


"The House at Rueil"
Oil on Canvas, 36 9/16 x 28 15/16
Edouard Manet, 1882
If you miss the exhibit in Chicago, there's another chance to see it in Los Angeles at the Getty -- opening October 8, 2019!




Sunday, August 25, 2019

Lay of the Land

"Field Study"
Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
(SOLD)
An art purveyor told me recently that her clients liked landscapes that were "ambiguous". She said that ambiguity allowed her clients to imagine the scene to be anywhere they wanted it to be. I was a bit taken aback, because I invest a great deal of myself in painting landscapes that are very specific--landscapes that immediately inform the viewer whether it is morning or afternoon, hot or cold, windy or calm. Landscapes that you feel you can walk into and breathe the air of.  Landscapes that tell you just how far away that mountain range is. Landscapes that trigger a gasp of recognition.

"Atmospheric Hills"
7 x 14, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
But. As I reflected further on the art dealer's comment, I concluded that she might simply have used the wrong word. I would prefer to say that the landscape is "universal". In fact, it is the universality of the land that makes it something we can all relate to. We are all creatures of the earth, all gravity bound, all oriented to a certain horizon line. We all breathe the air, feel the breeze, smell the rain, hear the rustle of the leaves. We all feel the warmth of the sun, and the cool of the shadow.

"Road to Petaluma"
18 x 18, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
These universal aspects of the landscape are ones I try to capture in my paintings. The land has a gesture, or movement, just as a person does. To paraphrase Kimon Nicolaides, the clouds in the sky are practically all movement, reflecting the movement of the wind. Roads move up over hills, and down into valleys. This sense of movement is universal, whether the landscape is at the coast or in the mountains. 

"Two Fields"
9 x 16, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2019
I'm illustrating this post with images of some recent landscapes that are part of my "Earth, Water & Sky" collection. Hope you can see a bit of the universal in them...