Lost Time

Lost Time
Charcoal, Graphite; 3 5/8" x 5 1/8"

Abandoned Waterworks 2

Abandoned Waterworks 2
Charcoal; 6" x 11"

Click to enlarge.

Waystation, Revisited

I finished this drawing three months ago- Or at least, it seemed finished for a week or two. After that, though, not so much. Most elements still seemed good, but the waterline and reflections weren’t working for me anymore, and I wasn’t as happy as I had been with the rocks to the right, either. Time and distance do have a way of clarifying things.

The changes work, I think. The composition seems cleaner, more focused. Contrast and drama are where I want them, and the distractions are gone. The drawing’s also a bit bigger, which isn’t a bad thing, either. Glad I gave this one a chance to season some.

Rendezvous Point

Rendezvous Point
Charcoal, Graphite; 4 1/8" x 4 1/8"

Waystation

Waystation
Charcoal, Graphite; 3 1/2" x 5 1/2"

Click on the image for an enlargement.

Scott Coulter

Scott Coulter, Beaten Path
Acrylic on canvas; 24” x 18”

I first became acquainted with Scott Coulter’s work a decade ago, when we were both showing at some of the same venues in Central New York- Including a gallery he ran for a time in Ithaca. In the years since, Scott has devoted much of his time to the arts festival circuit, where his paintings and limited edition prints continue to sell well. A listing of Scott’s current and upcoming shows is here.

Scott’s winding country roads, lush wooded hillsides, sunny, leaf-strewn forest paths, crystal-clear waterways are quiet, inviting, refreshing places, at once comfortable and spectacular. I’m especially impressed with how he handles water. Inspiring, instructive, and something to aspire to, myself.

Scott Coulter’s website is scottcoulter.net.

An Architect Of Dreams

Thomas Dain was known or characterized, in various circles and at various times of his life, as:

a shy, awkward boy, unsuited to competitive sport, terrified of dancing, but not good at spelling;

a captain of industry whose name may still be found stamped into the manhole covers and storm-drain grates of the Northeast’s largest cities, carved in marble at the entrance to Chaney University’s School of Engineering, and worked in ornate, vine-choked wrought-iron at the rust-bound gates of the largest power plant (long abandoned, now a wealth of modern ruin, frequented by painters, and a popular location for shooting music videos) ever built on the Hudson River;

an environmental depletist decried for his strip mines’ systematic decimation of thousands of acres;

an unabashed romantic, and the husband, for a time, of silent film starlet Claire Cameron;

a member of the Tremont City Council, and an unsuccessful candidate for Governor of New York;

a handsome, neatly-mustachioed man with a direct, piercing gaze, who kept an apartment overlooking Central Park, and cut a dashing figure at openings, premieres, and after-parties;

a pipefitter, carpenter, and sometime mason, often seen in Tremont’s hardware stores and building supply houses wearing muddy overalls, a battered bowler, and a grizzled three-day beard;

a hard negotiator, a cheapskate, thief of millions;

a boss who, if you did your job, would leave you to it and pay on time;

a ceaseless visionary of new ventures, an inventor, the holder of numerous patents, some disputed;

an admitted eccentric, and self-styled ‘architect of dreams’, many of which proved impracticable, or defied articulation entirely, though he succeeded in realizing no few:

The best-known of these, of course, was and remains Dain’s Folly.

Dain's Folly

Dain's Folly
Charcoal, Graphite; 5 1/4" x 9 1/8"

Click on the image for an enlargement.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Year Unknown

Rain Tern Waterworks, Year Unknown
Charcoal, Graphite; 3 7/8" x 5 1/8"

Here's the finished drawing. The jpeg above is posted at about the drawing's actual size; click on the image to see an enlargement.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 8

The drawing’s overall range of values hasn’t changed significantly; this scan seems a bit better representation of the original. I’m happier now with the waterfall at top left, and the adjacent elements have been fun.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 7

Here, it’s been about three weeks since I began this drawing, and a week since the last scan. Sometimes, my drawings develop in a way that seems fairly consistent, linear. With others, though, especially more complex projects that have already come to represent a considerable investment of time and work, I find I may need to take a break, let the piece set for awhile. Tired eyes, tired decisions, that I-just-want-this-thing-done stage sometimes seem inevitable. But over the years, I’ve gotten at least a little better at recognizing those times when I really, really need to not work on this right now.

I took a few days off from this piece, and I’m glad I did. The waterfall at top left needs work, but I like the elements to the right a lot. There’s a ways to go yet, but most of the composition has come into focus. Most importantly, I’m not thinking in terms of simply finishing the drawing. I’m having fun again, and I’m in no hurry.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 6

“Atop the near gatehouse, someone has repaired the low walls of the little terrace, and a small, well-tended tree- an apple, or perhaps a hawthorn- is in bloom.”

The gatehouse, terrace, and tree are nearly done; the surrounding mist needs a little more work. Time to sharpen my No. 4 pencils again.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 5

The near gatehouse, dam and walkway are coming into focus. Here, I’m using harder HB charcoal pencils to define the doorway, other shapes, shadowed recesses, the walkway’s sides.

I’ve begun cleaning up, filling, evening the mist with graphite pencil and kneaded eraser; the walkway’s right edge is nearly defined, and the mist in the lower basin is smoothing out too. For more on this process, see my article Creating A Misty Moonrise in Graphite and Charcoal.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 4

Here I’ve developed the breakaway section further, defined the gatehouses’ shapes and relationship a bit more clearly, and established the waterfall between with a kneaded eraser.

Waterfalls’ brightest highlights are usually found at the top, where the water spills over the surface and edge it’s falling from. I usually establish that edge first, then work my way downward, trying to mimic the flow and direction of the arcs and paths the water follows as it falls.

If I lighten an area too much, or a highlight needs to be moved, I’ll use a Q-Tip loaded with charcoal dust to darken the area again as needed, then reestablish highlights with an eraser. To create or adjust midtones like these, I don’t leave the Q-Tip fully loaded with dust; the result would be too dark- Much or most of the dust gets rubbed off onto scrap before I apply the remainder (carefully) to the drawing.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 3

Here I sketched with another eraser, a Sanford Tuff Stuff stick eraser. For anyone who’s not used one, it looks and works like a spring-loaded ballpoint pen; the eraser stick advances with each click. I sharpen the eraser to a fine point with an emery board.

This is a great tool for drawing in the negative, and for lightening and correcting small stubborn areas where a broader hard eraser would damage surrounding elements.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 2

The ‘Big picture first, details later’ rule has never worked well for me- Probably because it’s never seemed much fun. Though a more exploratory approach has its limitations and downsides too, I’d much rather begin with an interesting passage, and see where that leads.

Here, as usual, I’ve immediately begun developing detail: Deepening shadows with a 6B charcoal pencil, softening them with a Q-Tip; using a sharply pointed kneaded eraser to define shapes. The cleaner the eraser’s point, the brighter the highlights it will lift out, so for prominent highlights like the breakaway section’s edges and corners, I reshape the kneaded eraser often to maintain a relatively clean point. A dirtier point works well for the tones like the breakaway’s top.

Rain Tern Waterworks, Part 1

Here's a step-by-step look at the progress of my Rain Tern Waterworks drawing. Click on any jpeg for an enlargement.

Whenever possible, I don’t do much sketching before I begin a drawing- I’d rather sketch on the fly, exploring options, fleshing them out, revising, refining as I go.

Initially, I sketch with a kneaded eraser, lifting shapes from a gray background of charcoal dust. Elements established this way are more easily revised than if I’d drawn them with a pencil, and highlights that work well need less cleaning up than if they’d been defined by a pencil line at their brightest edge.

In the scan above, I’ve begun laying in darks with a soft charcoal pencil, blending tones, softening texture with a Q-Tip.

That Still, Small Voice

I’ve been working on two Waterworks drawings; above is an enlarged detail from the first, begun a few weeks ago. A couple weeks into this project, I’d finished most of the initial elements, done as much as I was comfortable doing with the drawing at the moment- So I decided to set this one aside for awhile, see what might become apparent, or at least suggest itself with the benefit of some time and distance.

Sometimes I’m ready to commit confidently to a next step even though I have no idea where it may lead. Other times, though, not so much- And I’ve learned to listen a little more closely to that still, small voice that says, Don’t.

Several of my recent drawings are featured in Little Gems: A Collection of Miniature Paintings, at West End Gallery, Corning, New York. The exhibition runs through March 16.

Philippe Mouchel's 'Le Mur de Pan'

Thanks to Philippe Mouchel at Le Mur de Pan online for the post on my work. I speak very little French, so I’ve been using translators to explore Philippe’s blog, which includes an online updating, with both reworked and new material, of his three-volume print comic of the same name. Though the translators don't help with the text in the strips, the imagery speaks for itself. His characters are charming, his environments rich, beautifully drawn, with dramatic use of light and shadow- Moody, mysterious, intriguing, inspiring. Looking at Philippe's work makes makes me want to go draw something, now.

Speaking of translations- For anyone who’s interested, Robert Couffy at Art-Galerie de Chahaignes translated an article I wrote awhile ago into French; it’s posted here.

Another Reason

Often, when I’ve struggled, I’ve fallen back on the assumption that my skills aren’t up to the task- Or simply, for whatever combination of reasons, not up to this task, today. Maybe I’m tired, not at my best, etc. That’s okay; tomorrow I’ll be better. There are times to push through difficulties, overcome challenges; and there are times to Stop Now, give the drawing a rest.

But lately, I’m trying to keep this in mind, too: If I’ve given an element of a drawing my best shot, just can’t seem to make it work, there may be another reason. What I’m struggling to make happen may not be the best choice, won’t (even if I pull it off) serve the drawing well. No new notion, and obviously not applicable to every difficult passage that comes along- Most are simply another challenge to meet, learn from. But sometimes, too, a problem may lie not with my skills, but my choices.