Busy Busy!!

Phew!! Lots going on, it seems... and not enough energy to do it all! ARGH!!

Let's see... I've got an art show to continue to get ready for -- in about a month. More on this soon.

We've had computer issues to deal with -- all better, for now anyway.

I DID manage to finish two new paintings that will go into my book; you know -- the one about autumn, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and maybe Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. This time of year has always been quite visual for me, and I'm making and assembling a series of paintings about the season. I always look for books like that in bookstores, and I never find any. FINE!! I'll create my OWN &*%$# book!

Meanwhile, I'm continuing to paint landscapes that I hope to get hanging (and selling) in one or more galleries somewhere.

AND -- it appears I have a commission in the works! A gal in 1930s-era clothing with her two horses. It's be interesting and fun.

Finally, I have an Easter-themed painting I've been thinking about doing for our church (well, really The Wiffee's church, but that's another story). It would be nice to get it done and out of my head -- hopefully before Easter 2016.

Can I do all this before next Easter? Don't know -- don't have the energy or drive to work as hard as I used to. No doubt about it -- I'm incredibly OLD!! OLD!!!

Well, maybe I can still get a few miles out of this fossilized carcass before it's all over. Time to "go to my studio and make stuff."

 


 

Arches and Feathers

Arches and Feathers is a reworking of a painting I "finished" in 2007. As is sometimes the case, it seemed like the painting needed a little tweaking...and finally, I stripped the removable varnish on it and set about to do some tweaking. (And repair a little damage that stripping the varnish caused).

And I think I finally have what I want!

Arches and Feathers                                 24" x 36"

The original 2007 work was the second in a series of three paintings I made of this formation in Arches National Park, UT. Balanced Rock appears in the distance on the left. This view was inspired by a painting by living artist D. Michael McCarthy, although this is not a copy of his artwork. (I wish I could have purchased his painting when I saw it in a gallery in Scottsdale, AZ!) I'd say we were both inspired by the magnificent work of the 19th century artist, Thomas Moran.

I included a redtail hawk turning and banking to its left. It's in shadow and appears dark (almost black). Placing it against the brightly-lit rocks created a focal point that draws the eye into the composition.

This little guy wasn't in the first version of the painting -- I think s/he adds a little life and even more mystery to the scene.

Besides, I read of another landscape artist who said he was told by an Indian friend that seeing hawks brings good luck and, if one appears in a painting, it brings good luck in sales! I hope that's true!

I still need to apply the finishing coats of varnish. I hope this will be a good attention-getter at a show I'll be doing in November (more on this later) and that the hawk will bring some luck, too!

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Badlands

Badlands is my newest painting!

Badlands              18" x 24" / 46cm x 61cm

This piece show the Carrizo Badlands overlook of Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, CA. This is one of my favorite sites in the park, with the rugged hills, lots of ocotillo (those stick-like things with the red flowers at the tips) and lots of space to mediate on.

I don't do paintings of badlands formations very often. Frankly, badlands have a LOT of stuff to paint, and sometimes I'm just not patient enough, although I know I have to be to get the look I want.

I think I like the way this one turned out!


Your educational info:

• "Anza" refers to Spanish explorer Juan Bautista de Anza, 1774;
• "Borrego" is Spanish for "sheep," especially a youngun;
• "Carrizo" is apparently the Spanish vernacular name of plants found in a carrizal, an area of reeds;
  
• "Ocotillo" (oh-koh-TEE-yo) = “little torch” in Spanish.

An Early Influence

Way, way back a long time ago (early '70s, when I was majoring in art at Cal State LA), I used to visit a weekly outdoor art show that took place on the grounds of Griswold's Old School House (in Claremont, CA), a complex that included a restaurant/smorgasbord, hotel, theater and shops. One of the regular artists there was a German immigrant who painted Southwest desert landscapes.

In my opinion, he was the best artist there in terms of achieving that classical, traditional look to scenes that the Old Masters never actually got to see. The artist typically had a mountain more-or-less centered, with either saguaro cactus or Joshua trees and lots of wildflowers. The works had such an old-world, skilled feel to them, and the landscapes appeared warm and inviting.

I wish I could have bought one of his paintings, but I wasn't working and didn't have the money for them, even though they didn't strike me as expensive. He often invited me to visit him at his studio and gallery in Pomona, but I never did.

And I never got his name or even a business card! At that time, I didn't realize that he would be an early influence on my present-day painting; in fact, he was really my first influence.

So I've been searching and searching for him, realizing he's probably deceased by now. What used to be called Griswold's has no records of that time.

Then, finally last night, I must have stumbled upon the correct search terms on Google, and I think I found him!

Karl Von Weidhofer

The Internet has only a handful of images of his artwork, but they resemble the ones I remember seeing at the art shows.

Desert Landscape          Karl Von Weidhofer

Sorry -- this was a small image, so the resolution isn't very high. And the composition isn't what I remember about the paintings I saw -- this view opens up in the middle instead of being blocked by a mountain.

Still, it should give you an idea of what it was that inspired me, even though I didn't know these paintings would come back to haunt me years later. The seed had been planted, and -- typical of my life in general -- it was a late-bloomer. And it blooms to this day.

This is a short bio of Karl as I found it in several places online:

Karl Weidhofer was born in East Prussia, Germany on June 8, 1920.  Weidhofer was in the German army when captured by the Russians during WWII.  While imprisoned for four years, he was taught to paint by a fellow prisoner. After the war he was reunited with his family in Bavaria.  He married and in 1954 moved to southern California.  For many years he worked as a lab technician for Pomona Tile Company while painting in his leisure.  In 1968 he became a full-time artist and began exhibiting his paintings in art shows held in malls and parks in southern California and the Southwest.  Weidhofer died at his home in Pine Grove, CA on Nov. 3, 2001.  Best known for his desert landscapes...

So -- is Karl the artist I remember? Maybe. The times and places mentioned in the bio would match where and when he would have been re: Griswold's in the early '70s.

He is indeed deceased -- lived to be almost 81 years old. I'll never get to tell him how he impacted my art forever.

But I'll continue to paint knowing Karl DID have that impact -- along with other artists who have shown me additional gems such as dramatic skies and lighting -- something Karl didn't get into.

Maybe you're painting right now in heaven, Karl. RIP.

The Santa Fe Look

If you've been around for a while -- say, the 1980s -- you may remember a decorating trend called "The Santa Fe look." The dominant colors were mauve and teal -- not colors you actually see in the city of Santa Fe, NM with its emphasis of Pueblo Revival architecture. Supposedly, these colors represented the Southwestern desert, perhaps before sunset. (I never thought that, but others did).

The furniture used a lot of smoothed-and-varnished natural wood tree limbs; fabrics used mauve and teal. Artwork was sometimes abstract; otherwise, it was quite desert-themed, with cactus, agaves and other prickly plants and/or pueblo Indian pottery, structures, ladders -- stuff like that.
 

By "Teresa"

Unfortunately, I only have Teresa as the artist's name...I believe i saw this on eBay. I hope she won't mind if I showcase her work here.

This piece is very typical of the wall decor that was common during those years. (Note -- I'm NOT putting this painting down). Although it is desert-themed, I never got into the Santa Fe look. Too trendy for me -- I was more interested in developing as a more classical-realism painter -- I goal I continue to chase.

In fact, I got so tired of what I was seeing, and how readily people bought these things, that I made a sort of surreal version of the Santa Fe look in protest.

Parasonoran Life Zone

 As you can see, the landscape features broken stand-up cactus in Santa Fe-look colors. Peach was a color that was just being added to the mix, so the only color that is isn't "right" is the blue of the sky. Some viewers actually laughed when they saw this -- I glad they "got it" and saw the humor and sarcasm in it.

So if this look was profitable, why didn't I pursue it? Because it was a trend -- nothing to build a lifetime career out of. After all -- where is all that Santa Fe artwork today? Certainly not on collectors' walls or in art museums!

Eventually, mauve and teal faded into beiges and earthtones. Desert and pueblo subjects seemed to disappear. (One artist tried to discourage me from painting desert landscapes because that subject came and went -- I don't think he realized I wasn't making mauve and teal desert landscapes!)

And I hope that the paintings I'm making today will be around longer than the Santa Fe look of the '80s.

 

Visions of the Night

As you may know, a "nocturne" is a work of art or music that is all about the night -- typically, night with a full moon.

It's amazing how magical nocturnes are! Provided a landscape feels like a safe place to be in, the darkness + moonlight casts a spell as nothing else can.

I've painted less than a handful of nocturnes only because they can be too dark for people to hang on their walls, especially if rooms are not brightly lit during the evening hours. But I suspect I may do more of them -- possibly scenes that are not desert. I absolutely love the look the full moon gives to the land, as it has been the last few nights during the "supermoon." (Full moon was last night, but it's still lookin' pretty darned wonderful out there!)

Mojave Nocturne

In these two images, you can see I sometimes make the night sky quite blue; other times, I tone it down quite a bit. We don't see much, if any, color when the light levels drop too low. We may think everything looks blue, but it's mostly shades of gray. (The sky MAY have a little blue in it).

What's amazing to me are the color photos (35mm slides) I've taken by moonlight. Given enough exposure, the pictures look just like daylight pix! The relative values, darks and lights in a moonlight scene are the same as they are in daylight -- things are simply darker.

AND -- just a couple of other differences:

1. The brightest stars show up in the nighttime photos;
2. Shadows have blurry edges. The moon moves enough during the time exposures to blur things.

Maybe someday soon!! More nocturnes!
 

Moonlit Desert

 

 

 

 

What to Paint, What to Paint

I don't know if other artists struggle with deciding what subjects to paint next, but sometimes I sure do! That's why I have to think in terms of future images even while I'm working to finish whatever I'm working on now!

I recently bought a canvas made of polyester -- it's supposed to last much longer than cotton or even Belgium linen. The size is 30" x 40" / 76cm x 102cm -- I prefer canvas for larger sizes just because they weigh so much less.

So what's the problem? Well -- do I paint Monument Valley or a redwood forest?

Admittedly, I've painted Monument Valley many more times than I've painted the redwoods. Yet, I feel like I've never caught the redwoods quite the way I've wanted to. The first time we saw them in Lady Bird Johnson Grove in Redwood National Park, CA, the morning sun was shining through the trees, and I was disappointed because I knew the forest would not photograph well -- bright spots of light next to deep shadows. (I was a photographer back then, not really a painter).

But then we rounded a corner, and a light fog had filled the forest. The air was lit up by shafts of sunlight breaking between the branches. We felt like we had stepped into heaven -- the blue sky that appeared beyond the hills showed through the fog, the ferns gave a lush carpeting of dark green and bright yellow-green from the sun. And, of course, we had those awe-inspiring giant trees rising to the skies in cathedral-like reverence.

Of course, it still didn't photograph quite the way we saw it, but the pictures + my memories help me remember how the redwoods looked that day. But I never got it right when I wanted to transfer my memories to the canvas.

Well, maybe NOW I'm ready to give it another shot. It won't have a waterfall like the image above (we never saw any waterfalls there), but I keep thinking there's a picture of heaven in my head, and it wants to be out in the open for all to see.

Maybe I've made up my mind about what to paint next!

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