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...