Now that things in my personal life are a little more settled and I can get into a good groove, I'm cranking out pieces at my usual quick pace.
This baby is for Sparrow Gallery's bike-themed May show entitled "Spokes." I didn't have a bike piece when I got the call to participate, but I knew I could whip one up.
I started with two wood panels that I'd picked up at University Art. I didn't know what I was going to use them for when I bought them, but they spoke to me. I knew I'd come up with something eventually. I like the way the wood works with the wood of the dock and gives the whole thing a more natural feel.
The interesting thing about wood panels is that they need a bit more prep than a canvas. Most canvases you buy from the store are pre-gessoed and ready for you to peel the plastic off and go. Wood, however, will soak up oil paint like dirt soaks up water on a hot day. So I had some work to do.
Gesso is similar to white acrylic paint, but in addition to the binder and the white pigment, it's typically made with glue and chalk, allowing it to dry harder than paint. This gives the artist a harder surface on which to work. In this case, gesso also gives me a few layers in between the oil paint and the wood, which slows down or eliminates the wood taking away all my paint's luster.
Layer one of gesso
I applied each layer of gesso in careful strokes, first all in the same direction, then perpendicular to my previous strokes. I sanded in between each layer once it was dry. I read conflicting information about how many layers of gesso to apply before painting: anywhere from 2 to 10. I went with four, because ten seemed excessive and two seemed too few. Luckily, four seemed to do the trick.
The next fun step? Underpainting! I don't always do a an underpainting, but sometimes I like the way it looks when it peeks through my paint, and sometimes I need help getting the values down before I start going for real. This time, it was the latter. I knew that the hands and the bike would be tricky to do, and I wanted as much help as possible. Plus, any practice getting those lines straight was good practice in my book. Despite my best intentions, the underpainting did not look good.
A not-great picture of my not-great underpainting. Whoops.
Next step: paint! This guy didn't require as much of a struggle as the umbrella painting. The straight lines were the worst of it, but I think they turned out pretty well considering I did them all by hand and since they're supposed to look a little rough-hewn due to the nature of the background.
more not-great progress photos...focus on the development!
A few laps though and I was done! Just in time to get it on the wall at Sparrow.
The final step was photographing the panels. This tedious step is always hard for me (excepting the few years in high school when I thought I was a fabulous photographer, I'm the first to admit I'm not great with a camera), but this time was particularly difficult because of the lines and because of the lighting in my studio. When I was at Santa Clara, the art building walls were perfect for photographing work. Then at home, the backyard on an overcast day would do. Now that I've moved and we're transitioning into springtime sun all day every day, lighting a piece for photography is tricky. Combine that with trying my hardest to get these darn things straight and you get a frustrated artist spending the afternoon on her computer.
Before I wrap this longish post up, I want to address the content of this painting. I thought a lot about what I wanted viewers to take away from this piece as I was working on it. It's a bit more narrative than most of my other pieces in that a story can be projected on it if the viewer chooses. My mom saw it and instantly thought it was the same person coming and going from the market. I like that idea. I also thought of it, like I think about most things, in terms of identity. Is this the same person? (It is, because they're both me, but bear with me.). Is this the same day, or do flowers in the basket mean a good day while an empty basket means a bad one? What does the fact that she's riding a bike say about the subject? I like that there are multiple ways to think about this painting and the person in it. I like the optimism in the flowers and the energy of the figure. I like the contrast between skin and flowers and wood. I like that my outlook has shifted lately from "half empty" to "half full."