Phthaloranosaurus Rex, or How to paint with Phthalo Green

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

Well meaning people can sometimes cause problems.

A friend of mine owned some oil paints from a while ago when he had an interest in painting. Apparently, the muse wandered away from him years ago, and he no longer had interest in, nor use for the paints. He knows I oil paint, so he just dropped those waif-like paints off at my place. Now, there were among those paints some colors I use, like white, black, yellow ochre, and a couple cadmiums. There were a few colors I don't normally use, but can find a place for, such as thio violet. There were a few I don't know what to do with (Dioxazine purple - what the heck?) But red flags went up when I saw those two trouble-making colors, phthalo green and phthalo blue.

I've tried phthalocyanine (phthalo) paints before, years ago. They're inexpensive, lightfast, and strong colors. But "strong" might not be the right word for them. More like obnoxious, overbearing, overpowering, even totalitarian. They can overrun and conquer your entire painting, giving an acidic blue-green cast to the entire work. I've spent a lot of time knocking back the strength of phthalos to get them to the earth tones typical of landscapes instead of the overly assertive colors phthalos want to be. After trying phthalo green and phthalo blue once, I've replaced them with viridian green and cobalt blue.

But now, here they were again. Phthalos. Try saying that out loud without spitting all over your computer screen. I didn't want them. I wanted to throw them away. I thought about taking the caps off the paint tubes and tossing them out the car window as I sped down a busy highway. Then later I might go back to see what color the highway had become. But no, I decided to give those two annoyingly brilliant colors one more try.

A palette which includes phthalos needs strong checks and balances, and I already had a good counter color - cadmium red. Not only is red the complementary color to green, but cadmium red is a dirty mixer, and can even be useful in toning down phthalo blue. In the painting shown at the top of this post, the sky was painted with phthalo blue and titanium white, toned down with cadmium red, ultramarine blue, and maybe touches of a few other colors. The trees in the painting were done using phthalo green, with cadmium red - a lot of it - and cadmium yellow to tone down and warm up the greens. A mix of thio violet* and ultramarine blue, with a little yellow, were added to phthalo green for the darkest parts of the trees. Again, small amounts of other colors made their way into the painting's trees, but I don't remember all the details.

I was happy with how phthalo green and phthalo blue worked in this painting. A few more examples of paintings I've made using phthalo colors can be seen in this post and this post. I think I'll keep those two tubes of paint and use them. At least until they're done - then I'll happily go back to viridian and cobalt!

As I drove away from my painting spot, I saw in another direction a huge plume of smoke from a wildfire in the mountains. It kind of reminded me of what can happen to a painting if you don't keep your phthalocyanine under control!

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*Instead of alizarin crimson or quinacridone red.

Edge of the Trees

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

There will always be good things to paint. I'm drawn to places out in the country and into wild places, as I have been all my life. It's not that I can't paint urban areas, that's just not what draws my interest. Even in heavily developed areas, however, one can find little patches of nature to paint. 

It seems like this entire valley is being developed. From the base of the Wasatch Mountains to the edge of Utah Lake; from Point of the Mountain to Santaquin. More neighborhoods are going in. More big buildings are going up. I realize there's a need for much of this, but there's less of the close by open space and stands of trees that I like to paint. 

There's a little pocket of Springville between I-15 and the lake where I've painted many times. It's a favorite place of mine. Ranch land there is slowly being squeezed out by businesses. A stand of big willow trees I've painted before and wanted to paint again has been knocked down and piled in a giant heap. There's still lots to paint in that area, but I feel like I'm in a race with the bulldozers. 

Hopefully I can keep ahead of the bulldozers for a while. There's still lots of good places to paint in that westernmost part of Springville; places like the one depicted in the painting shown above. While it's still there, I'll keep painting there.

My Palette

Probably what most people imagine a painter's palette to look like is an oval or kidney shaped thin board with a thumb hole in it. I don't have one of those. While the traditional palette might work well in a studio, that's not where I do most of my painting. I paint outdoors. Rectangular palettes are more packable and easier to transport. The palette board in my biggest paint box does have a thumb hole, but I sometimes wish it didn't. I rarely use the thumb hole, but when I do I usually end up with a painted thumb.

The color palette I use is a basic split primary. Of course it's arguable what "primary" colors are, but for all practical purposes here, I mean yellow, red and blue. By split primaries I mean a "warm" and a "cool" version of  yellow, red, and blue - with an extra color or two thrown on the palette. A generous pile of white is always a part of my color palette.

I don't think I'm too much of a stickler concerning paint brands. M Graham, Utrecht, Holbein, Gamblin, and Grumbacher are some of the brands I use, but I'm not adverse to trying other brands. Anything with good color, good strength, and lightfast works for me. I avoid "student" or "studio" grade paints, also any cheap, obscure paint brands. By the same token, exorbitantly priced paints - such as those made with exotic pigments like lapis lazuli - aren't likely to find their way into my paintbox, either. 

Below is a diagram of the colors I use for plein air painting.

1. Titanium white, made with safflower or walnut oil - not linseed oil. I like linseed oil in all colors except white because it yellows white in a relatively short time.
2. Cadmium lemon yellow. A slightly greenish yellow.
3. Cadmium yellow, cad. yellow medium, or cad. yellow deep. A more orangey yellow.
4. Cadmium red, or medium, or deep. A red on the yellowish side.
5. Permanent alizarin crimson, or quinacridone red, or another apropriate quinacridone. Dark, semi-transparent, and on the purplish side.
6. Cobalt blue. It's about as blue as paint pigments get, I think. I used to use cerulean blue, but found I can do everything with cobalt that I used to do with more expensive, but less strong cerulean. Cobalt blue is expensive enough.
7. Ultramarine blue. Dark, semi-transparent, and a touch violet.
8. Viridian green. A dark, cool green. Not a primary color, as oil paints go, but very useful.
9. Mixed dark purple. This is what I usually use for "black", or rather instead of black. It's a mix of alizarin and ultramarine, plus a touch of yellow to tone it down a little. This color can be made more blue or red as needed.

Other colors I occasionally add to the palette are:

• Ivory black. Mixed with yellow makes a wonderful earthy green like that found in high desert junipers.
• Yellow ochre. A good color for things like winter marsh grasses.

Colors I no longer allow on my palette: 

• Anything that starts with thalo. Thalo blue and thalo green are good strong colors. Overpowering, in fact. I've been unable to always control them. Thalo colors tend to take over any painting I've ever tried with them. Thalos also take over my hands, clothes, and anything I touch or walk on. The only way I've been able to control thalos is to tone them down with so much complementary color that I spend more time mixing paint than I do painting. But thalo colors are clear, strong, permanent, and inexpensive, so if you can learn how to use them successfully, more power to you!
• Any color with the term "hue" in it. Honestly, I won't rule out hues entirely, They can sometimes be convenient. But hues are just mixes. Generally, a painter should be able to easily mix whatever's needed.

.....

All this, of course, is subject to change.

Salon d' Automne 2014

Logan Fine Art's annual Salon d' Automne opens this Friday evening in Logan, Utah. I'm happy that one of my plein air landscapes (shown above) was accepted into the show. The show will be at the Logan Fine Art Gallery, 60 West, 100 North in Logan, Utah. Friday's opening will be the best time to meet many of the painters and sculptors who have works in the show, but there will be a lot of fine works by Utah artists on exhibit through the holidays. For more information you can visit Logan Fine Art's website at:

http://loganfineartgallery.com/

Or you can click on their banner which I've put at the top of this post. Hope you can come enjoy the show!

A January Landscape

14" x 20" Oil on Panel

January isn't my favorite month. February still brings winter storms, but the month begins to show a warming trend and a promise of relief from winter's tightest grip. It doesn't matter to me what Punxsutawney Phil and his top-hatted cronies predict, February is the downhill side of winter and is always welcome in my "Book of Months."

Bald Eagle by the Provo River - photo by J.G.

Still, there can be much to enjoy about the middle of winter. On days when the dreary gray takes a temporary leave of absence and sunshine reaches the valley floor - those days can be glorious indeed! That's when the brilliant azure dome of sky arches over a crystal landscape, and snow refracts diamond-like the slanting rays of la lumière du soleil.

Ice Ridge on Utah Lake - Photo by J.G.

Those are days I want to be out painting winter's finery en plein aire, no matter how deep the snow or cold the air. Sunshine makes all the difference. The painting starting off this post was painted mid-January on just such a day.

That painting, "A Winter Walk", will be part of a group show later this month (February) at Evergreen Gallery in Salt Lake City.

Sketchbooks - Sketching from Photos.

12" x 9" Oil Pastel from Magazine Photo

Concerning traditional painting, whether it's people, landscape, or what-have-you, there's nothing that takes the place of drawing or painting from life. To be there with the subject, see how it's form turns, and how light and color dance across it's surface is to experience the subject fully and in ways no other means can provide. A painting shouldn't be just a matter of fact report on the subject, but should convey a sense of life and experience.

9" x 12" Graphite from Book Photos

As subject matter, photographs are second-hand information. Photos don't provide all the information that being with the subject does. Also, cameras interpret the subject in ways suited to their own electronic and mechanical dispositions. Depend too heavily on a photograph for your finished work and you might as well sign it “Nikon” or “Kodak” and send the proceeds of any sales to the camera companies. Kodak could use them.

12" x 9" Graphite from a Photo of Mine

That being said, there is sometimes a place for the use of photographs in painting and drawing. The best illustrators are very good at drawing from life, and use that to inform their use of photographs. Photos are very helpful if your subject is perhaps a quick athlete or bird in flight. When practicing drawing, photos allow the beginner time to work on their hand/eye skills without always having to find a model or worry about changing shadows.

9" x 12" Oil Pastel from a Photo of Mine.

The vast majority of my works are made from life. I attend drawing sessions every week and draw or paint directly from the model. My plein air paintings are made entirely on location outdoors, with the occasional touch up done in the studio, car, or wherever. No camera is ever used.

8" x 6"  Owls are Pen and Ink from Book Photos; Glasses are from Life.

However, I'll sometimes paint studio portraits, working from sketches made from life in conjunction with photographs I took of the subject. Someday, if I ever make large studio landscapes, I might use similar methods.

12" x 9" Pen and Ink from Magazine Photos

The sketches shown in this post are out of some of my older sketchbooks, and were done from photographs. Years ago, photos provided some valuable practice material for me.

9" x 12" Graphite from Magazine Photos

Death, Taxes, and a Navajo Woman

Today there was a statewide earthquake drill called, "The Great Utah Shakeout." An important thing to do in earthquake country. The intention is to educate and prepare people concerning what to do in a major earthquake. That way people won't just run around in aimless circles franticly waving their arms and screaming in terror - which also sort of describes how I do my taxes. Today is also tax day in the U.S. I wonder if there were any exercises today about how to file last minute tax returns during an earthquake? Brings to mind Benjamin Franklin's quote about death and taxes.

But to get to the image above, last Thursday a Navajo woman modeled for our weekly drawing session. This sketch was done in a 12" x 9" sketchbook with charcoal pencil. Hope it moves you, tax free!

For more about drawing sessions, go to "Labels" on the side bar and click on "sketching" or "drawing."

Cowboy Sketch

Charcoal Sketch Approx. 12" x 9"

For several years I've been attending portrait drawing sessions once or twice a week. These sessions along with other drawing sessions, plus sketching on my own are how I've been able to develop drawing skills to any degree. The sessions have been very important to me. Without them, I wouldn't learn how to to draw. No amount of painting will make up for lack of drawing because drawing provides the structure that supports the painting.

Just as in sports or music, drawing requires practiced hand-eye coordination. The best basketball players, for instance, don't just read a how-to book and immediately go out and win a NBA MVP trophy. They have to spend a lot of time in practice learning, developing and polishing basketball skills. They study and practice the game. There are many fine books which teach drawing skills, but then the student of drawing has to figure out how to apply the book learning. That takes practice, practice, practice. No matter where a painter is in his or her career you should never stop improving your drawing. If you're not building drawing skills you're loosing them. Sooner or later that will show in your painting.

Developing good drawing skills isn't easy but needn't be drudgery. Finding a drawing session that provides a place to work and models for a reasonable fee allows the painter to network with other artists, get feedback, and join in the energy of a group of painters all developing their own drawing skills. And if someone brings snacks it's even less drudgery! Yum! (Thanks everybody!)

From time to time I'll post on this blog some of the portraits I've drawn from life at these drawing sessions, but for now it's time for me to saddle up and ride off into the sunset. Wish I had a horse!

For more about drawing sessions, go to "Labels" on the side bar and click on "sketching" or "drawing."

People or Places?

Some seem surprised when I say I find portrait drawing easier than landscape. It's true that rocks, trees and even mountains can be moved around in a landscape painting to suit the painter's needs, but rearranging eyes, nose and mouth on a portrait will not help the composition, despite what Pablo Picasso tried to tell us. So, doesn't that make it harder? Well, that depends upon one's motivation. Over time I have put more into learning the human face than the landscape. Early on, when I lived in Pennsylvania, commissions ran probably twenty to one for portraits over places. When I began entering juried art shows, judges were quicker to accept my portraits and figures than my landscapes, The portraits were hung better in juried shows, too. So a little money and prestige motivated me, but more importantly, I am absolutely fascinated with the human face. In my teens, I was obsessed with learning how to draw people. The life and individuality seen in a person's face, the light in their eyes, is mysterious and endlessly fascinating.

While I continue to practice and hone my people drawing skills, developing landscape skills has been more my focus in recent years. If my love for landscape lags behind my fascination for the human face, it's not because I don't feel strongly about it. The vast amount of time I've spent out in the landscape, most often by myself, has shown to me it has life and light of it's own. The landscape has light and life to give, when it will, perhaps in ways not unlike the giving nature of the best of people.

The commissions for places I received when I lived back east were for civilized places; homes, churches, a golf course. Those were of course fun to paint, but my heart is in more wild places. What a civilized landscape has to offer seems limited, sometimes even restricted. It's puzzling to me that many people don't see themselves as part of the natural landscape. The perspectives offered by people and the landscape might be different, but aren't we made of the same stuff? The influence we have on each other is profound. Each is tied to the well being of the other. Forms and rhythms apparent in both people and landscapes are like a family likeness, and reveals our relation to our mother earth.

While I continue to build representation in professional galleries more interested in landscapes, my interest in the human form and face will continue. It's my goal, eventually, to combine people and the landscape in some of my paintings.