Oil Painting

Design, noun, 2) the purpose, planning or intention that exists or is thought to exist behind an action, fact or material object. 

In this post, I want to say a few things about intelligent design.  Intelligent design requires creativity.  It means using our imagination. It involves planning and purpose.  In painting, it’s a process of sorting through a myriad of details selecting only those which support intents.  Which implies a clear intent exists in the first place.  Intent may take various forms, but it usually flows from an emotional response to subject matter.   It could be the desire to convey a simple mood, to extol the beauty of nature or tell a story.  Whatever its form, intent looks beyond the mere transcription of facts.  Art is not in the facts.  That’s not to say the ability to represent nature is dispensable.  That’s still important.  But art is in the selection process aimed at setting emphasis.  It involves seeing nature in simplified, paintable terms.  Simplification is, therefore, the root of design.  Design differs from composition in that you can crop to a good composition, but design requires thoughtful arrangement of elements.  

In May of 2018, I participated in the Forgotten Coast En Plein Air event in Florida’s Panhandle.  My official capacity was as a Plein Air Ambassador.  Tons of great subject matter there including an abundance of shrimp boats.  Indeed, the fleet of commercial shrimpers is one of the regions enduring legacies. Early in the week, at the Florida’s Finest Plein Air exhibition (which included a few of my works), I overheard one patron say to another “The last thing I want to see is another painting of a shrimp boat”.  I understood the comment completely.  Shrimp boats are part of the prevailing culture.  They’re as plentiful as bikinis on South Beach.  Surely some of the thrill is gone.  No doubt shrimp boats are the most painted subjects in the area.  But I don’t see them every day.  So, to me, a marina full of shrimpers is an amusement park for artists.  I was drawn to the marina at Mill Pond as if pulled by a giant magnet. 

Amidst the retorts of laughing gulls, breathing in the aroma of salt air and diesel fumes, I walked the perimeter dock of the “U” shaped cove, admiring vessel after vessel.  I was captivated by the weathered charm of the gritty watercraft as the words “Who wants another painting of a shrimp boat” reverberated in my head.  Inhaling once more, the pungent admixture of salt air and low droning engines fueled my inspiration. I vowed to do something more than a mere “painting of a shrimp boat”.  With that clear intention in mind, I looked for something a shrimp boat could do besides sit for a portrait.  That’s when the crusty visage of a rod and reel fisherman appeared.  Light bulbs went off as I saw the possibility of using the shadow side of a shrimp boat as a foil for the play of light and shadow across his figure.  That decision clearly shifted the emphasis away from shrimp boats, without avoiding the boats altogether.  So, the painting became more than just “another painting of a shrimp boat”.  The overall design plan was the stacking of values from foreground to background, dark in front of light in front of dark in front of light and so on.   Emphasis on the figure was further supported by using very saturated colors for his shirt, chair, and hat.  The warm shadowy sides of his face and arms further separate him from the cool shadow behind.  At the same time, virtually every value on the figure is either lighter or darker than the shadow side of the vessel.  Simply put, contrasts in value, temperature and saturation differentiate the figure from its foil.  I could further dissect the design of the painting but the decision to use the boat as a foil for the figure is enough to illustrate some salient points about design.  It’s also enough to say, “Mission accomplished”. 

RobertJSimone.com 

I painted my first tree at age 12 and continued to paint landscapes for the next few decades.  But I have never liked my trees.  Eventually, I switched to figurative work although I love plein air painting.  I still do not like my trees.  I agonize about painting trees.  Give me a portrait to paint, no problem.   But I lose my confidence when it comes to trees. 

I recently read an article by C.J. Trent about blocks faced by all sorts of creative people. Trent wrote that blocks happen for many reasons, including that “you may face an impasse because you need to learn a technique or change your method, or find a new material to realize your vision.”  This common sense view aligned with  Edgar Payne’s advice:  “a painter needs to study, mediate, experiment, and practice interminably.”  This past January, I decided to spend a year studying how to paint trees and painting trees.  I give myself a “B” for effort and a “C” for results.  I still have half the year to go, so I am cautiously optimistic. 

For the study part, I gathered all my books on landscaping painting and turned to John Carlson who devoted a whole chapter to painting trees.  He says it takes study and time and counsels the student to first understand trees, then to draw them, before attempting to paint them.  That works for me. 

I have listened to some very thoughtful people speak about painting trees.  At a gathering of local artists one evening, an artist remarked that it was easy to draw trees as symbols rather than as living creatures.  Only by really seeing them can you draw them so they look real.  It reminded me of the difference between stick figures and more realistic figure drawing.  Trees are not symmetrical; they should have the same feel of gesture as a figure.  A friend mentioned to me that drawing branches should be like drawing fingers on a figure.   Carlson instructed artists that a painter can paint her trees anyway she wants and that the less they look like anyone else’s the happier she should be.   

For the practice part, I have been drawing trees and painting trees.  I have worked on value, color, gesture, and structure.  What have I learned?

Brushwork counts.  A flick of a brush yields the suggestion of leaves dancing in the wind.  Branches need to taper and turn as they snake through the sky, calling for confident brushwork.  Trees call for a balance between abstraction and realism; detail and suggestion.  And I have learned that Carlson is right.  Painting trees is as individual as painting figures.

A friend of mine, Kathy Nolan Hutchins, paints beautiful trees and forests.  She exalts in detail and creates a sense of peace and beauty in her work.  For example, look at her piece, “Belgium Woods.” 

 I would recognize her trees anywhere. 

In contrast, so many of the early great landscape artists, like Ruisdael, only suggested detail in their trees.  Their spare use of color and value gives an illusion of detail and depth. These early artists excelled at creating atmosphere.  I can study these painters for hours. 

I have read lots of rules about painting trees.   I am not much of a rule person so they are fun to read but I am not going to follow them blindly.  I think the only “rule” that I follow is to make my own greens instead of using color straight out of the tube.  I have painted trees that I like.  For instance, I painted our boathouse which is on a beach surrounded by a thick stand of trees.   Most of the trees in this picture are just suggested.

Trees are majestic but the landscape paintings I like the best rarely show an entire tree painted in a realistic fashion.  Instead, trees create the mood of the painting.  So while I think trees need to be painted in a way that shows life and rhyme, I do not want to paint them so realistically that they capture the landscape painting.  Instead, to me, trees are magic; in themselves, and in paintings.   

References:

Edgar Payne, Composition of Outdoor Painting, 1941.

John Carlson,  Carlson’s Guide to Landscape Painting, Dover, 1973.C. J. Trent, ”Breaking through the Block,” Artist’s Magazine, July/August 2019

Reading many blogs, posts, and comments from developing artists, a common theme I have found is a desire to be more “painterly”; to be looser, more natural, etc.  The general advice given is to become confident in the required technical skills that will let you paint with more creative freedom, not needing to focus so much on technique.  This is very sound advice, but what to do?

Nobody sits down at a piano without much training and expects to play a Chopin Mazurka.  And yet this is a bit the expectation of beginning artists.  The resulting disappointment is often expressed as, “I guess I don’t have talent.”  Learning to play the piano, I trained daily with “Hanon, The Virtuoso Pianist” to develop finger muscle and movement patterns.  It was required by all my piano teachers.   I would like to share a couple of tips for emerging artists that wish to become more “painterly”.  I hope my experiences can help them as much as they have helped me.

First, put aside the masterpiece and do some exercises.  A teacher I studied with had me paint three bricks in each of the primary colors.  Once they were dry, I assembled them stacked and leaning against one another in different light as a still life subject.  I was told to paint what I observed in maximum 10 minutes on a piece of canvas paper.  Rip it off and repeat with the bricks in a different position and light.  Pay attention to shadows, reflective colors, etc. but only allow 10 minutes per effort.  Rip it off and start again.  If I have had an unwelcome absence from painting, I start with a couple of brick exercises the same as my first stop is Hanon after a lull at the piano.

Second, limit your palette to your “go to” colors.  It’s a bit like packing for a trip with only carry-on luggage.  You need to pack by what clothes you will actually wear, not pack to have a broad selection of clothes you would like to be able to choose from on the trip.  The more often you use a particular color, the more familiar and comfortable you become with its mixing effects, adding white, or adding a complementary color.  Having all the colors you might want to use, keeps you from developing that comfortable “go to” familiarity with your core palette.  It is amazing what variety can be achieved through color mixing.  You can always add “visiting” colors like Rose Madder for a portrait, or Sap Green for a landscape.  The important thing is to have deep familiarity with your core palette, so you are not experimenting when you mix and have a color in mind.

Third, do a simple underpainting before getting creative with colors.  I use a burnt sienna or similar color that is dark when thick and light when thinned with turpentine.  I have a rag handy to wipe off parts easily that don’t look right when I stand back and take it in from a distance.  It is amazing how liberating it is to have a basic underpainting capturing the main composition elements before starting to throw some paint at it!    Continue with adding colors to the painting while trying to paint it from the distance you would view it from.  Of course, our arms don’t reach 10 feet, but go for it, constantly standing back to observe.  Resist ending up with your face 12 inches from the painting working on details without the perspective from the viewer’s spot.

Lastly, focus on capturing light and creating contrasts in the painting.  This does not require detailed work but has a wonderful impact from the viewing distance.  Here, it is helpful to be more aggressive than you would normally be with your colors.  For example, 25 years ago, I was studying portrait painting with Danni Dawson who did Sandra Day O’Connor’s official portrait as a Supreme Court judge.  I was painting my youngest daughter from a photo in the class.  Being naturally timid and shooting for accuracy in detail, I was gravitating towards the comfortable middle ground in my color mixing.  It was resulting in an accurate, but rather flat and dull appearance.  Danni walked by and took a brush, mixed some red, yellow, and white on my pallet and put a brilliant splotch of paint right in the middle of my daughter’s cheek.  “Now, work that in”, Danni said and walked on.  I was shocked since I was in those final moments of getting the details right.  I had no choice but to blend in the color splotch she had added.  It totally brought the portrait to life and I added similar touches in other areas.

So just to summarize my tips for becoming more “painterly”:

1. Do some simple color mixing and composition exercises. Yes, Hannon is more boring than playing a Sonata, but it helps get you there. Paint. Rip.  Repeat. 10 minutes max.
2. Build your palette from your familiar “go to” colors that you are deeply familiar with how they mix and appear. Expand your palette judiciously.
3. Do a simple underpainting to start and paint as much from the distance of the viewer as possible (at least observe from the distance before painting the next step).
4. Capture light and create contrasts in the painting that have an impact from the viewing distance.

When you feel you are not being “painterly” and crawling into the details or gravitating towards the dull middle ground, stand back and pick a spot to put your own splotch.  You can always work it in, but at least it stakes out a more creative extreme from the viewing distance.  Imagine the thrill Monet had when he added the orange sun and reflection to his “Impression Sunrise”!

Happy painting and tell me how these tips work for you and what ideas you have to be more “painterly”.

Picasso… Caravaggio.. Henri Fantin-Latour, Cézanne, Van Gogh, Francisco de Zurbarán, Braque, Mary Cassatt, Miró…Gauguin. Monet, Manet, Renoir, Adelheid Dietrich. Brueghel, Rembrandt, Dürer, Rubens, Velázquez.

Great painting masters from different periods of time and style. One might find it difficult to find something in common between all these artists, as their exquisite paintings and artistic methodologies are so different from one another, but there is something that they have in common other than their geniuses and the love for art: Still Life.

Still Life is the depiction of inanimate objects, from man-made utensils to nature (food, flowers), arranged in a pleasing and harmonic composition. The history of still life paintings goes back to ancient Roman times when wall paintings of flowers and fruits were not unusual to be seen in Italy. The tradition persisted and went through the middle ages, Renaissance, Baroque until our days. A normal painting exercise for those willing to learn academic art and realism, still life is a practical way of learning texture, volume, composition, drawing, values, and proportions.

As a self- taught artist, when I started painting 13 years ago, with no form of academic instructor, the beautiful colors of the fruits in my kitchen caught my eyes as I challenged myself to paint it. Still life painting made me the artist that I am today. In this article, I intend to share my basic painting techniques of still life and a brief simple exercise that anyone from any age can attempt at home with simple painting materials.

To start a simple still life exercise at home, you can use any fruit or vase of flowers that you have available. I will suggest a simple fruit as in the picture below. You don’t need to worry about creating something worthy of competition quality in this exercise, and for now, don’t worry about composition. To most artists, composition will come naturally the more you paint, but it’s also a whole field of work and practice and we are not going into it today. These are only the basic techniques and if you follow my instructions you’ll have a finished work in 3 hours. If you paint in oils you might need more than 3 hours, so my advice is to let the layers of paint dry before continuing, so 3 or 5 days of painting for those using oils.

I chose a simple apple and I put it on a wood table that has a nice subtle reflex. I will use a small canvas pad (9”x12”), and acrylic colors: titanium white, vermilion hue, cadmium red, alizarin crimson, sap green, permanent green light, raw sienna, burnt sienna, raw umber, burnt umber and mars black. It’s very important that you are patient and take your time to draw your still life on the canvas. I know that the desire to paint and apply the brush strokes might make you rush through this part, but the drawing is the most important part of the painting. If you are very experienced in still life, this will not be an issue as painting is nothing more than drawing with the paintbrush, but if you are not familiar, mistakes casually done with the drawing may affect your finished canvas in the end. So take your time. Observe the geometrical forms of the fruit/flower and table that you are drawing.

The second step to paint on your still life is to correctly apply the color values. Color value is the amount of white or black that a color has. To get it right easily first you are going to use titanium white, burnt sienna, burnt umber and mars black, to paint an almost monochromatic image of your still life. The use of values are also important to demonstrate the volume of the object that you are painting. In the image of my apple, on top I used five different value schedules (those little squares) in which I will adjust to the shapes of the fruit that I am seeing. I will also use the values to briefly highlight the subtle reflexes of the apple on the table.

The third and final layer I will use the reds and browns to create the table and apple. For the darker areas, I will use the darker greens mixed with the browns or black. For the background I used a mix of light green, white and black because I wanted a cool green and grayish color. Red and green are complementary colors and interact with each other in the human eye.

I hope with this simple exercise you will become more interested in studying and painting still life.

Chewing gum, a soda bottle, and a paper clip and supposedly we can MacGyver our way out of anything!  I want to share one way you truly CAN MacGyver your way out of those times you feel like no matter which way you turn you are creatively stone-walled and once again the muses seem to have fled.

A lot of us will put music on in the studio along with knocking back a double espresso on those days our brain feels like day-old white bread. Get some mood enhancers going – we feel a bit better, we paint a bit better. So, now you know what this article isn’t about! What it is about is incorporating music into our painting practice in a much more powerful and intentional way.

Good friends and truly inspired – and inspiring – musicians, Dave Curley, Joanna Hyde, and Tadhg Ó Meachair, from the transatlantic trio ‘One for the Foxes’ have agreed to take this leap with me. They’ve offered up the gift of their music, thoughts on creativity and devotion to the arts and life to ‘we who wield brushes’ – their brothers-in-arms in the creative arts. They have provided the music you’ll be using for the exercises you’ll find at the end of the article. A sincere thank you to Dave, Joanna, and Tadhg!

The first exercise will focus on increasing brush vocabulary through painting using your entire body. The second, uprooting ingrained habits and assumptions that are way past their expiration date and have lost their usefulness. My hope is that the music in concert with the exercises will bring you and your paintings one step closer to the heart of all things.

I had occasion recently to work with a talented student who was stuck. The brush was in a death-grip; the approach to the canvas was sincere but unfocused. Paint would be shoveled up, a stroke would be laid down and then rather than allowing a breath, a pause and stepping back from the canvas and assessing the passage they would stroke the passage again and again until any life it might have had was gone. It pretty much bled out on the sidewalk. The student was truly stuck in a loop chanting the same ‘word’ over and over with their brush – but not in a good Zen way. The musical equivalent could be a three-year-old future percussionist banging pan lids together like a bad loop until you want to open the slider and throw them out in the snow just long enough to make them stop. They haven’t yet developed the manual skills, artistry, and understanding of complex rhythms to be the heartbeat of a future band.

I tried everything in my coach’s bag to get them past the wall they’d hit. I had nearly given up when I reached over, turned on my trusty blue-tooth speaker, chose a track and said, ”Now, stop painting the painting and paint the music.” They focused their attention fully on the music. The death grip on the paintbrush loosened. The stance that had been hunched became relaxed. The impetus for the paint strokes began originating from somewhere deep. They began using their entire body. The strokes became fluid and full of life.

For years we painting instructors have tried to teach rhythm, melodic line, composition and such with little sketches, slides, diagrams and whatever else we can think up. This was a serious ‘duh’ moment for me. All this artist needed was, not to read about, talk about or look at charts about rhythm, the student needed to experience rhythm in the moment. When they did their body knew exactly what to do with it. Watching them pretty much dance back and forth approaching and retreating from the canvas, laying down strokes inspired by the phrasing in the music actually verged on spooky since minutes ago they were carved in stone.

FINDING THE HEARBEAT

What are some ways we can bring ourselves back to true north when it feels like our painting is going sideways?

We need a heartbeat to live. A song, a tune, a painting, all need a heartbeat to live. The lot of us, painters, composers and songwriters alike, are pretty much guaranteed to now and then have a time when we stand back and realize our creation that day is seriously DOA. Don’t panic – triage. Can it be resuscitated? If not then salvage some valuable learning from it and move on. If there’s still a pulse then:

1. Step back and find the weakness that might be dragging down an otherwise important creation.
2. Ask yourself if the initial intent was unfocused.
3. Is there a weakness in the structure?
4. Did you hang the curtains before the drywall?
5. Is there an inelegant passage in the execution?

Sometimes we are only a very small adjustment away from saving the patient and a fine offering to the muses!

THE PRACTICE AND THE PERFORMANCE

As painters we work on two fronts – the practice and the performance.

1. The practice: Striving for mastery of the technical skills. A painter’s version of practicing scales.
2. The performance: We then choose a time to pull those hard-won arrows out of our quiver to create an image that will carry our message…hopefully squarely into someone’s heart.

Here are some go-tos for your tool kit to help you come at your creative life with more intention and focus.

1. Slow down and resist the temptation to just launch right in. Give yourself permission to spend some time bringing into focus your intention for your painting so it is truly ‘about’ something, not a painting ‘of’ something.
2. Keep your antennae up for those things you respond to.
3. Search for what you feel deeply about. Love will be felt by the viewer if you paint what you love. Joy will be felt by the viewer if you paint what brings you joy. Peace by painting what brings you peace. Power if you paint powerfully.
4. Quiet the voices in your head and sometimes the voices outside of your head.

Musicians lead us on journeys that are image-filled through lyrics and musicianship. As painters, we should strive to take our viewers on journeys that are music-filled, if not literally, at the very least through masterful handling of the painter’s versions of composition, rhythm, and harmony. The common roots of music and the visual arts surface constantly. We compose. We seek harmony. We design with rhythm. We use melodic line. We choose what key we are going to paint in. We place color notes. We find our voice. We create contrast. We use tempo to speed up and slow down the viewer’s path through the painting.

THE CREATIVE PROCESS

I asked Dave, Joanna and Tadhg of ‘One for the Foxes’ if they would share some thoughts on the creative process from the viewpoint of musicians and songwriters.  I found their insights not only inspiring but remarkably applicable to our process as painters.

“My focus is covering two angles as I embark on my creative process and I try to keep these two fundamental elements (as I see them) at the front of my mind. 

At the outset, most of my process is informed by my own personal experiences and what I take from myself and inject into the music. Establishing the narrative, drawing from past musical interactions and imagining new ones to create something new. As the structural, musical and lyrical elements begin to take form, I try to shift my focus and fine-tune my piece of art with the fresh perspective of a new listener. I have found that parts of my art that I become sentimental and attached to because of the journey of the piece, can actually hinder the overall piece of art and it might be better served if removed. This tension between the personal and the external is important for my process and can offer a lot more clarity to the listener/observer when both sides are taken into consideration.”  Dave Curley – multi-instrumentalist, singer-songwriter

“In the spirit of art being a sort of continuum (in my mind), I find this element of ‘balance in flow’ really important. Just as Dave is talking about balancing the internal and external for the sake of art, I think that stretches to the idea of being open to whatever creativity is coming through you and/or from inspirational sources around you, and being able to look at it all critically without overwhelming yourself with judgment. 

I think one of the most fundamental reasons for art is joy – getting to feel and share joy -, and that is a sort of mantra I try to come back to in order to keep myself balanced when I’m feeling bogged down by uncertainty or criticism, most often my own. I know it sounds trite, but I do think that happiness is the core behind this all, and that is ultimately what allows the creativity to come out into the world. Some of my favorite moments are when I’m listening to a piece of music and it fills me up so much that I get goose bumps. I’m experiencing the piece in such a pure way without consciously analyzing it. With the open and subjective process that is art, it’s sometimes hard to know from the artist’s perspective when to let a project or piece be “complete”, or at least sit for a while and decide whether or not to come back to it. I try to keep ahold of an awareness of this flow between the various states of creating something and experiencing all different feelings about it, so that I can continue to try new things, hopefully learn and improve, allow for the more difficult moments, create space when necessary, and more than anything, keeping loving the whole experience of it. That, in turn, allows for whatever I’ve created/shaped/molded to be shared, and perhaps become something new again for the next person.” Joanna Hyde – vocals, fiddle, songwriter

“As for my creative process, particularly in terms of composition, I find it to be an ever-evolving process. Perhaps coming from the Irish tradition, where ‘a composition’ is usually limited to 16 bars of music and incorporates repeated motifs within that, one can encounter a burning urge to break the rules and strive to make something ‘bigger’. This can be very rewarding. However, when all the rules are broken, suddenly the beauty of the original ‘simple’ form can also emerge. Then, rather than feel confined by strictures, one can find immense joy in appreciating subtleties often lost in a larger picture. 

Ultimately, neither of these approaches is ‘wrong’, and, to echo Dave’s and Joanna’s words, letting go is the big challenge. You will always improve, evolve, and/or change as an artist. Tomorrow you might balk at the idea of something you love today. But today is just as valid as tomorrow. As the legendary Irish musician Dónal Lunny once told me in the midst of an album recording, ‘That’s why we call it ‘a record’. It’s a record of where you and your art is right now.’ “ Tadhg Ó Meachair – piano, piano-accordion, composer

MUSIC TO INSPIRE PAINTING AND PAINTINGS INSPIRED BY MUSIC

I’m going to share two paintings in an ongoing series that will be exploring music. The musicians are the subjects of the paintings but the message is the music. They are paintings ‘of’ musicians but ‘about’ music. The first is about music that was and will be. The second is about music in the present moment.

The Harpist

The painting is of a harpist but it is about the space between the notes where music exists.  Her hands in her lap mirror the rests in a composition. It looks back to when the music was and forward to when the music will be again.

Buena Vista Social Club

This is, on the surface, a painting of musicians on a stage. Again, the painting is about the music. For this painting, I literally used the spaces between the musicians to paint the music. Every stroke, color note, paint passage was executed to be a visual translation of the music filling the club. Even the powerful bass line lives in the dark vertical post on the left. The tangle of wires speaks about the complexities of the notes – of how the voices of instruments intermingle.

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

Okay, now we’ll turn our thoughts toward how to put all of these ideas into practice. Let’s dump some sound and some pigment into an imaginary particle accelerator and make the two collide. When any two things collide in this universe something is created. Water + rock = a canyon. Car + tree = a trip to the body shop. If you DO create something new because of a fender bender after you’re over inventing new profanities, stop and look at how the light might be hitting the new wrinkles in the sheet metal. Look at the sweeping patterns the grass stuck in the quarter panel is making. There’s beauty even in something that a minute ago totally sucked the life out of your day. Pass no judgment on what appears on your canvas during the exercises. Just let the worlds collide and feel the joy of the process.

My hope is that the music in concert with the following exercises will bring you and your paintings one step closer to the heart of all things!

EXERCISE 1: Increasing brush vocabulary through painting using your entire body.

Use two 12×16 or larger inexpensive canvas panels or paper. You don’t want to worry or feel precious about the surface you do exercises on.

Work standing up so you can move freely. Make sure you have a clear path so you can step back from your easel at least 6 or 8 feet if possible. You need to always be moving forward and back. Forward to lay down a passage. Back to see the big picture. For this exercise, you’re to not care a whit what ends up on the canvas. Focus entirely on the music and use it to inspire new ways to approach your canvas. Allow the marks you make on the canvas to just ‘be’ with no judgment. Relax and use your entire body. Let the stroke originate in the earth, move up through your spine, shoulders, arm, through your brush and finally to the canvas. Click on the audio clips to access the music for your exercises.

I’ve chosen two of Dave Curley’s pieces from ‘A Brand New Day’ for this exercise.

A. The first piece you’ll work to is a beautifully rendered piece that leads you on a gentle and at the same time emotional journey awash in visuals.  ‘The Pleasure Will be Mine’ – written by Alan Reid, arrangement by Dave Curley and Mick Broderick. 

I want you to be aware of the grace in the music and let that translate into how you move your body and hold your brush. You should hold a brush with both delicacy and perfect control. It should nearly fall out of your hand. You’ll move from shoveling up paint and spreading it on the canvas like stuccoing a wall to a vocabulary of true brush calligraphy that can speak volumes with a stroke.

B. For the second half of this exercise, you’ll work to one of Dave’s original pieces, ‘Off to War’, which is both powerful and poignant at the same time. e NOTES: ‘Off to War’ is a true story from Ireland in 1916, based off a mother’s diary which she kept for her son who was fighting in the Irish regiment of the English army in the 1st world war. Old story, new art.  – Dave Curley, Mick Broderick

Use a new canvas or paper. The intent, the rhythms, the message are entirely different. As you focus on the music and begin responding, you’ll discover you’ll be using your body in an entirely different way as you approach the canvas. There is a more powerful undertone in this song with compelling rhythms. There are moments that are lilting and inspiring and conversely poignant and heartbreaking. Pull out your Big Book of Brush Vocabulary for this one! You’ll need lots of different words.

EXERCISE 2: Uprooting ingrained habits and assumptions that are past their expiration date and have lost their usefulness!

Again, use two 12×16 or larger inexpensive canvas panels or paper.

For this exercise, we will again focus on the music but the intent is to interpret what we’re hearing and translate it into passages of color on the canvas. We have a huge vocabulary in a single brush. We can go from a wisp of a hairline to a powerful and bold stroke with just a twist of the brush in our hand.  After you load your brush you then have three tools for making your mark – speed, pressure, and direction in infinite combinations. Try them individually and then combined. Step back between passages and assess how successfully you’ve communicated the intent of the music.

I’ve chosen two wonderful pieces from ‘One For the Foxes’ for this exercise.

A. The first tune you’ll work to in this second exercise is a beautifully crafted piece, ‘Virginia’, that is sure to draw you in and inspire you to use your brush in new ways as it takes you along on its journey.

Notes: Virginia is a town in County Cavan in Ireland, and is one we particularly enjoyed putting together with its more distinctive arc/journey from slow and airy to faster and punchier. – Tadhg Ó Meachair

Let your mark making follow the arc of the story in this one letting your brush follow the beautiful drawn out passages in all of their tenderness. Then interpret the anticipation as the tempo slows then builds and the piece becomes more complex.  This is a great exercise for breaking the habit of repetitive brush strokes. You will have the pure music of radically different passages on one canvas. That’s when the painting becomes a dance.

B. The final piece you’ll be working to in this series of exercises fully invites you to the dance of life – ‘One for the Foxes’!

Notes: “One for the Foxes…is a mix of two tunes – one Irish tune composed by Junior Crehan, and then the tune that myself and Joanna composed in honor of some foxes who lived in my back garden in Dublin!” – Tadhg Ó Meachair

This last exercise is about shaking off dusty habits that have been holding us back, stealing our voice and keeping us from true expression and connection. 

So, put the last canvas on the easel, turn up ‘One for the Foxes’ and feel what it’s like to channel joy!

Enjoy your journey of discovery! – Lyn

Credits:

Many thanks to Joanna Hyde, Tadhg Ó Meachair and Dave Curley of ‘One for the Foxes’.

ONE FOR THE FOXES

Dave Curley, Tadhg Ó Meachair & Joanna Hyde form an exciting and dynamic transatlantic trio that presents a rousing blend of Irish and American folk music, having already won over audiences on both sides of the ocean. The group is made up of Dublin’s Tadhg Ó Meachair (Goitse), Galway’s Dave Curley (SLIDE) and Denver, Colorado’s Joanna Hyde (The Hydes), and features a mix of Irish and American folk music and song – both traditional and newly-composed – presented in an energetic and engaging manner. Their performances strike a tasteful balance between the stories found in ballads across both sides of the Atlantic and the respective instrumental music traditions of these places. Award-winning instrumentalists each in their own right, Dave, Tadhg & Joanna take a unique twist on the diverse strengths of their individual backgrounds, weaving between traditional melodies, their own compositions, and songs from the broader folk canon. The results are highly personalized and thrilling in their daring and forthright grasp of the material. Through a shared deep-rooted passion for Irish traditional music, this trio highlights the vital role of Irish traditional music as an origin of many American folk musics and explores how those styles can interact with one another in a manner both eclectic and grounded.

Dave Curley

A multi-instrumentalist from County Galway, Dave Curley has worked with multiple Grammy-winning acts, as well as being a member of the Irish supergroup, SLIDE. Not only an outstanding musician, singer, and songwriter, Dave is also known as a champion Irish step dancer.

Tadhg Ó Meachair

An All-Ireland champion pianist, Tadhg has toured the world with his multi-award-winning band GOITSE. His musicianship, recognized by legendary musician Dónal Lunny in his ‘Lorg Lunny’ television series, has led him to collaborate with acts ranging from Seán Ó Sé to The Stunning.

Joanne Hyde

Award-winning fiddler and vocalist Joanna Hyde, a Colorado native, is steeped in musical styles on both sides of the Atlantic. A recipient of the Jack Kent Cooke Foundation’s Graduate Arts Award, Joanna has an MA in Irish Traditional Music Performance from the prestigious Irish World Academy in Limerick, and tours throughout North America and Europe with various projects

oneforthefoxes@gmail.com

‘One for the Foxes’

 www.oneforthefoxes.com

 ‘A Brand New Day’

http://davecurleymusic.com

© Lyn Boyer – No Fear Oil Painting™

www.lynboyer.com