Winter Reading

As those of you know who have visited the studio, you will always find an empty chair at the kitchen table but you definitely have to work hard to clear a space to rest your elbows. There are always piles of books and stacks of Gazettes in various stages of perusal. Most are newly collected reference materials, art books, bird books, history books, and some are old dog-eared bookmarked standards that I dip back into often depending on what is on the easel or what is on my mind.

Here’s a look at what’s on the table for this winter’s reading…

While on the Vineyard my friend Ted gave me his library copy of Vanity Fair magazine to read. He said there was an article about a new Rockwell book, Norman Rockwell: Behind the Camera by Ron Schick, that Ted thought was sorta fun which shows the photos Rockwell took for some of his paintings. It was the first book ordered when I got home and, as usual, Ted’s right on. I brought out the magnifying glass for this one and keep returning to certain images finding something new each time. It cleverly illustrates the subtle choices that the artist made to go beyond the photograph changing color, expression, positions and backgrounds  to enhance and often change the narrative.

While reading Fine Art Connoisseur Magazine I came across a review of the new Rembrandt book by Gary Schwartz and so that made it to the pile.  As my friend Peter will tell you I’m more interested in the pictures than the scholarly text but I’ve forced myself to read a bit of it and have learned a thing or two.

In keeping with the Dutch theme I picked up a little book on Bruegel, the elder, Bruegel: The Complete Paintings by Rose-Marie Hagen. It has good reproductions and an easy to read bit of background prose and I have spent hours already with the magnifying glass studying the detail.

At first I was paying attention mostly to the landscapes. I’ve been watching the winter come onto the farm across the street and as the trees lose their leaves and the field corn dries to a brittle umber, the stone barn, farmhouse and outbuildings are revealed. With the raking december sunlight in the early morning the colors reminded me of the Bruegel palette. Now that the storm has passed and the whole scene is blanketed in a foot of snow it has come alive like so many of his little dutch villages.  I decided a couple days ago to paint the view outside of my easel window while that snow is still here…and now when I dip into this book it’s all about the red that he uses. Like the cardinals at my feeders.

And no table of mine would be complete without a couple of Wyeth references. I picked up a new one on our trip to the Brandywine River Museum last week but it didn’t have enough going to keep it in the top ten stack. Instead I reached for the richer volume of Andy’s work, Andrew Wyeth, Mystery and Magic .

The Muses led me to a previously overlooked little gem of a painting, Baron Philippe. Within a few minutes I had gathered some dusty props and the sketchbook and come up with an answer of sorts…The Baroness. Stay tuned for that one.

The other old favorite that has been moved to the top of the pile (no pun intended) is the museum publication, History and Romance, Works by Howard Pyle. Moonlight on a snowy lane…he’s got it down.

I’ve linked the books and images here to the Amazon site and the BR Museum site, not as a promotion but to make it easier for you to get more information. Of course in doing that I have come across two more books to add to the collection. It is Christmas eve after all …

Merry winter to you all from our studio kitchen table…

Studio Snowstorm

Three years ago when we bought the house next door and turned it into my studio I was worried about the coming winter and 200 more feet of driveway to shovel. We’ve lived in the log cabin home for almost 20 years now and Pat and I, two middle aged and determined women, had shoveled our quarter mile of lane and then some with gusto if not with sore backs.  But now we are older and with the additional footage it seemed time to join the rest of suburbia and buy a loud and dangerous machine that could do the work of two women.

That was the beginning of the curse. We have had no snow since. Ice yes. One or two mighty blows that could be removed with the broom. But nothing that even remotely called for the orange beast that takes up valuable floor space in the garage. Until yesterday that is.

An honest to goodness nor’easter, that most of you probably shared in your home towns, has dumped over a foot of perfect snow blower snow on our little patch of the planet. At 5:55 I was up, yes that number thing is still happening, and shoveled a path to the garage. By 9am most of the neighborhood and all of our driveways had been cleared …and on one tank of gas.

It’s 11am now, one hot shower and one warm meal later I am ready to settle in and paint. That’s IF I can hold a brush in this hand that is still shaking from holding on to that mighty machine.

Here are some pics of the studio snowstorm… from the photo I took the day before of the farm across the street that looked like a Breughal landscape to me…and the progression of snowfall recorded by the bird house Walt made to resemble the studio…to the log cabin evening festivities that included the traditional mushroom soup making and pecan puff cookie orgie (I took a pic of the Joy of Cooking to show just how popular that recipe is…I write some little journal note each time I use a recipe and this one dates back to the 80’s)…to the shots from this morning when I had the whole neighborhood to myself and the birds…and then to my apprentice who has finally had a taste of the real stuff for which she was born to glide through regally .

You all stay safe out there and have a hot toddy or two for us !

Duck a la Doug

Outside there is fog and freezing rain and it’s a cold wet muddy mess of a day, but inside it is toasty and bright and still buzzing from the laughter and stories and good food and wine that always accompanies a studio visit from Doug and Scott.

These guests arrive with most of the meal in tow and make themselves right at home in the tiny kitchen …

It’s always a treat to be with them and this time of year it is all the holiday cheer we need to raise a glass or two or three in front of the roaring fire and toast the gift of their dear friendship.

Salut !

Paying it Forward

Our grandson Ben Lackey is one of our favorite humans. He made the studio his home this weekend and we had 48 hours of intense art lessons sprinkled with lots of deep and meaningful conversations, leaf raking, wood gathering, dog training , leftovers and laughter.

A senior at Seton Hall Prep in NJ this year, Ben is pushing himself hard to finish his high school career on a high note while he waits for those big envelopes to arrive with good news from the colleges that he hopes to attend next year.

It was a heartwarming gift to be able to sit across the table from the confident young man who only yesterday we were cradling in our arms. But there was some serious work to do and we had a blast helping each other out.

I recycled my old digital camera to Ben in exchange for some heavy lifting around the log cabin… we got our chores done and Ben got this rainbow on one of his first shots…

The best part is always seeing the grandchildren reflected in Pat’s eyes…

And the apprentice made sure that the young artiste stayed focused…

Except for lunch breaks…

And Finn’s own personal reward…

It’s all about teaching the eye to see and the heart to understand and the hand to follow that lead… this student gets it and is well on his way…

My first crock pot…

My friends Saren and Susan are responsible for this latest obsession. On our walk last week, when we were hiking around the woods with the dogs, we got around to one of our favorite subjects…food…and I forget how… but it was revealed that I did not own a crock pot. Not sure how I made it through this first half century without one  but, after another mile or so, they had convinced me that I NEEDED one.

After my usual compulsive internet researching and two horrific days of trudging through the land of Oz…aka…obscenely overstocked retail zoos…I collapsed in a shopping meltdown and ordered this one on line…

She arrived on the anniversary of my grandmother’s birthday which is a very good sign as she was a wonderful cook…so in her honor I have named her Phyllis.

And, since Pat nursed me through the melt down with such grace and good humor…I decided that the inaugural feast would be her favorite…pulled pork.

The goal is to be able to make suppers that I can throw together in the morning and let cook all day so that when I come home from the studio the cooking is done. And so that if I lose track of time and forget to stop painting…Pat can eat dinner before midnight. Phyllis passed all the tests.

An elegant look, clean simple design, easy to use, easy to clean, big enough for meals that can last for days, and…yes Susan and Saren, I thank you !

Bon appetite…

Red Sky at Morning

creekside morning

Sailor take warning…

and so we have taken it easy today and managed to slowly fill the entire truck with our survival gear for an extended stay on the Vineyard. Tomorrow we move out and the caretaker moves in so the studio will not be lonely and the changing of the seasons here will not go unnoticed.

And our little family will make our annual pilgrimage up the east coast to dig our toes in the sands of Squibnocket beach and taste some of Chef Hesi’s sushi delicacies and visit with dear friends and explore some new corners and vistas all in search of new subjects to bring home to the studio to paint.

I expect to post some blog entries from up there so stay tuned…and enjoy the autumn colors in your neck of the woods.

When the Muses don’t show up…

It is dark now. And it’s been a very long day of frustrating fits and starts. Much ado and almost nothing to show for it.

Last week I had a dream in which a painting began to take shape. A line of pumpkins supporting a pile of corn was the start .  At first a shining ear with one glorious pat of butter atop was hovering over the pumpkins. Then the next day the title came into focus…The Philosopher Corn. I liked that but the original butter thing was too cute.

While sitting on the studio porch carving some spoons that afternoon I kept hearing a great swoosh in the trees just before seeing hundreds of migrating birds take flight. And I thought of a Raven…with an ear of corn in its beak… and that was my philosopher. Probably an echo of Jamie Wyeth’s sinful seagulls that I saw last week. But I liked the idea of the oily black feathers against the orange and green fall carpet.

I did a tiny sketch and gave Pat a shopping list. First off, the pumpkins. Well it turns out we are on the cusp of that season. Farmers said look back here on the weekend. And corn is at the other end of its season. Farmers said we probably won’t have any more by the weekend. And…we leave on Tuesday for a month on MV.

Soooo… I drove all over kingdom come and found Pumpkin Hill where I was no doubt the first customer … but I loaded four pumpkins into my wagon and called Pat. Got ’em, now can you go straight over to the orchard and grab all the corn that’s left.

That was two days ago.

Now here I sit tonight, waiting for my ipod gadgets to sync after hours of repairing loopy software, and decided it was time to set up the still life with the harvest. An hour later I am beaten.

Granted, I may be too tired to hear them…but the muses just ain’t helping out here.

IMG_0014

This is absolutely hideous.

I hardly ever paint what is exactly in front of me in this kind of a still life…but really…my first little sketch had way more information than this heap.

And I have now ignored my partner and my puppy for most of the day… have two dozen perfectly good ears of corn going to waste…four decent pumpkins (pick of the crop) and a whopping headache in the balance.

Lesson learned…again…

these paintings have a mind of their own and when I try and force them into a tight little box in a crazy busy schedule… I just end up in tears.

I’m not letting go of the title, or the characters in play, but I am turning off this machine, going to shake myself together, find my dog, and head home to my loving partner for the night.

Tomorrow is another day Scarlett.

Vineyarder

When we were on Martha’s Vineyard in July for the Granary Gallery show we took a day off to be filmed for a spot on Plum TV. Hannah Pillemer, the film maker, producer, editor and interviewer, along with David Rhoderick the intrepid cameraman, did a fine job of making us feel at ease…and our friend Barbara Gordon, aka Ansel Leibowitz, documented the interview for the studio blog.

Here are some photos from our morning in the spotlight, and a link to the video …

PLUM TV click here

A note from the Apprentice

The cooler weather is perking up the not-so-little-anymore Finnegan…

Finnegan grows up

At six months, her studio apprenticeship is focusing on getting the artiste to stick to a routine. Up at the crack of dawn, feed the pup, climb into the truck and head over to the park for a brisk half hour walk…then home to hose off …

hoser

Then it’s time to get to work…

Her new name this week is  Runs With Brushes…

runs with brushes

When I catch her and get this one back… I WILL get to work.

Phenomenon

Calling all scholars and mystics…

I need some help interpreting two phenomenons that have puzzled me of late.

The first is straight forward… this cloud formation followed me all the way to the park a few days ago. It looked so much like calligraphy that I pulled over and sketched it in a notebook. Reproduced here via photoshop it is a fair representation …

sky writing

The second phenom is something that I started recognizing  months ago. Every time I would look at the clock it read 3:33 . Now, to clarify, I hardly ever look at a clock. And obviously there are only two times in any given day that that number can come up. But sure enough, my nightly bladder call was precisely at that hour…and I could have gotten up and looked at the clock at any stage in that journey to and from the throne but I  always seemed to catch 3:33.

Same thing in the afternoon. I’d stop painting and just randomly glance at the clock by the easel and there it was again. Not 3:34…or 5 but 3. When I think back now I remember that the first time that number came up it was on election day. I was number 333 in line to vote. Hmmmmm.

So …leap forward to almost a year later. The anomaly has blossomed. Now almost every time I look at any clock the time has all the same digits repeated. 5:55 comes up a lot, 11:11 is a fun one, I seem to catch 4:44 almost every day and so on.

No, I do not hang around waiting for the numbers to roll around. And no, I don’t pay any more attention to the time than usual. And Pat is completely done with me exclaiming, ” I don’t believe it…look…again !”  But I do feel, not unlike the sky writing, that there is some larger message from the beyond that I am supposed to be getting and am obviously not catching it on the whisper.

I have no clue if anyone  out there actually reads these blog entries but  I am curious to hear if anyone else finds these things… well…curious ?