Do you see it?? A baby flower stalk!!!!
Friday, April 26, 2013
Pausing for a moment
Ah, too much to do and too little time. Not enough drawing this week! So I was walking by my forlorn, sadly neglected fraser's sedge specimen today and stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed this:
Do you see it?? A baby flower stalk!!!!
There it is, just peeping up above the unfurling leaf. It is bright white like a grain of sushi rice. And looks a little sticky, too. I am so surprised because I thought this young plant wouldn't be able to swing a flower stalk this early in its life. Someone had reported online that their plant took three years to bloom. Lucky me! I will get to watch it grow, which will make it SO much easier to draw! In this photo you can also see the slightly serrated edge of the leaf. This is too tiny of a detail for the drawing, I think, but interesting to notice, just the same. OK and while we are at it, staring up close and personal like this, notice the veins of the leaf -- all shooting straight up in parallel formation. This is typical of all grasses, and I'll be sure to feature it in the drawing. Stay tuned!
Do you see it?? A baby flower stalk!!!!
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Fraser's sedge - 1
I've been trying to get a composition going for my Fraser's sedge. When I start ripping apart various disappointing quick sketches I know it is time to call it a day! Here's what I've got so far:
I'm not entirely happy with it but I think I am finally on the right track. Here's the difficulty: this plant grows low and wide, except for the small, thin flower stalks that shoot up seemingly out of nowhere. The image needs to be vertical, to show the most accurate botanical information, so my perspective needs to be looking at the plant as if I were almost at eye level, kneeling in the forest. (Not looking down at it from a towering height.) Unfortunately, most folks who have ever taken a picture of this plant in bloom, and then kindly shared it on the internet, have not gotten down on the ground but rather set their tripod up above the plant. I can't copy anyone's photo, of course, but it would sure be nice to see different angles! So what do I do? Well I have pretty much got the idea of how this plant grows. I know the dimensions of the young and mature leaves. I know how tall and wide the plant can get. I know how big the flowers are. I can extrapolate from my baby plant, which is just now coming out of dormancy. I put all this information together and come up with ideas of how to present the plant in an interesting way on a two-dimensional sheet of paper. The composition challenge! This is where the creativity comes in, as I've said before. In my view, the composition has to have movement because it is of a living thing. I want your eye to travel all around the plant and see all the interesting parts. Since the leaves are like bending, twisting ribbons, and the flower stalks are quite graceful, I can use them to this effect. That's the hope anyway!
Another aspect of creating the composition is making some very basic decisions of how I'm going to make the finished piece. Remember I mentioned the other day that the flowers are small white pompoms? To paint them, I would need to place leaves behind them so that the viewer could see the white flowers against a green background. But it turns out in nature, the leaves don't grow vertically as tall as the flower and one would never see a leaf sticking straight up behind a Fraser's sedge flower. And I've already decided not to work from a high angle (which would put leaves behind the flowers, but would eliminate the ability to show the full stalk and would make the composition too horizontal.) The parts of the flower are so teeny I can't imagine using shades of gray paint to outline each filament. The better course of action is to make this a graphite drawing and make use of a very sharp pencil point!
I have also decided not to dig up the roots of my baby plant. It is trying so hard to survive, I hate the thought of stressing it in such a way. It is a rare specimen, after all! Instead, I might do a close up sketch of one blossom to the side of the plant. It really is quite pretty and - naturally - is another example of the Fibonacci sequence. More on that later.......
Stay tuned!
I'm not entirely happy with it but I think I am finally on the right track. Here's the difficulty: this plant grows low and wide, except for the small, thin flower stalks that shoot up seemingly out of nowhere. The image needs to be vertical, to show the most accurate botanical information, so my perspective needs to be looking at the plant as if I were almost at eye level, kneeling in the forest. (Not looking down at it from a towering height.) Unfortunately, most folks who have ever taken a picture of this plant in bloom, and then kindly shared it on the internet, have not gotten down on the ground but rather set their tripod up above the plant. I can't copy anyone's photo, of course, but it would sure be nice to see different angles! So what do I do? Well I have pretty much got the idea of how this plant grows. I know the dimensions of the young and mature leaves. I know how tall and wide the plant can get. I know how big the flowers are. I can extrapolate from my baby plant, which is just now coming out of dormancy. I put all this information together and come up with ideas of how to present the plant in an interesting way on a two-dimensional sheet of paper. The composition challenge! This is where the creativity comes in, as I've said before. In my view, the composition has to have movement because it is of a living thing. I want your eye to travel all around the plant and see all the interesting parts. Since the leaves are like bending, twisting ribbons, and the flower stalks are quite graceful, I can use them to this effect. That's the hope anyway!
Another aspect of creating the composition is making some very basic decisions of how I'm going to make the finished piece. Remember I mentioned the other day that the flowers are small white pompoms? To paint them, I would need to place leaves behind them so that the viewer could see the white flowers against a green background. But it turns out in nature, the leaves don't grow vertically as tall as the flower and one would never see a leaf sticking straight up behind a Fraser's sedge flower. And I've already decided not to work from a high angle (which would put leaves behind the flowers, but would eliminate the ability to show the full stalk and would make the composition too horizontal.) The parts of the flower are so teeny I can't imagine using shades of gray paint to outline each filament. The better course of action is to make this a graphite drawing and make use of a very sharp pencil point!
I have also decided not to dig up the roots of my baby plant. It is trying so hard to survive, I hate the thought of stressing it in such a way. It is a rare specimen, after all! Instead, I might do a close up sketch of one blossom to the side of the plant. It really is quite pretty and - naturally - is another example of the Fibonacci sequence. More on that later.......
Stay tuned!
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Something new and different
I am questioning my sanity. I mean really. What possessed me to agree to paint - against a hard deadline - a plant that is rare, difficult to find, and worst of all (dare I say it?) boring!?! When spring is bursting at the seams around here
and luscious Crayola colors are popping out of the earth,
I foolishly said I would paint the elusive and exceedingly humble Cymophyllus fraseri, or Fraser's sedge.
Seriously?? I must be really devoted to my craft to choose this over all other more spectacular specimens shouting at me from every corner of the garden. This little clump of grass; a singular shade of green . . . what is the attraction?
Well, for starters, it is endangered. And so it deserves to be noted. The BAEE would like to include it in their upcoming book project (artwork submissions due June 1) and so I agreed to have a go. I received this specimen a few days ago from the Lazy S'S Farm Nursery and I've been staring at it trying to uncover its redeeming qualities. After relishing painting the undulations and variegations of my beautiful swiss chard leaf, I have had to adjust to a more stark, austere presentation of line and form.
This is an example of the fact that if you stare at anything long enough, and you keep your mind in a state of grace, you will see beauty. For this little plant, it has to be about the leaves. Look how gracefully they bend and twist, like ribbons. And the photo doesn't show it, but the way the leaves emerge from the stalk, unfurling one inside another from opposite sides, is quite interesting. Finally, and this I gather from photos on the internet, the plant sends up very attractive flower stalks in May and June... like white pom poms at the end of long, thin stems. Also, I think I'll dig up the roots and see what they look like. (Roots are almost always gorgeous, in my opinion.)
And of course, I love a challenge. A boring green leaf shade, teeny white flowers painted on a white background, and a looming deadline . . . Perfect! Worth temporarily setting aside my swiss chard painting. So now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to the drawing table....
and luscious Crayola colors are popping out of the earth,
I foolishly said I would paint the elusive and exceedingly humble Cymophyllus fraseri, or Fraser's sedge.
Seriously?? I must be really devoted to my craft to choose this over all other more spectacular specimens shouting at me from every corner of the garden. This little clump of grass; a singular shade of green . . . what is the attraction?
Well, for starters, it is endangered. And so it deserves to be noted. The BAEE would like to include it in their upcoming book project (artwork submissions due June 1) and so I agreed to have a go. I received this specimen a few days ago from the Lazy S'S Farm Nursery and I've been staring at it trying to uncover its redeeming qualities. After relishing painting the undulations and variegations of my beautiful swiss chard leaf, I have had to adjust to a more stark, austere presentation of line and form.
This is an example of the fact that if you stare at anything long enough, and you keep your mind in a state of grace, you will see beauty. For this little plant, it has to be about the leaves. Look how gracefully they bend and twist, like ribbons. And the photo doesn't show it, but the way the leaves emerge from the stalk, unfurling one inside another from opposite sides, is quite interesting. Finally, and this I gather from photos on the internet, the plant sends up very attractive flower stalks in May and June... like white pom poms at the end of long, thin stems. Also, I think I'll dig up the roots and see what they look like. (Roots are almost always gorgeous, in my opinion.)
And of course, I love a challenge. A boring green leaf shade, teeny white flowers painted on a white background, and a looming deadline . . . Perfect! Worth temporarily setting aside my swiss chard painting. So now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to the drawing table....
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Swiss chard greens
More work today on the next leaf of the composition. Whew there's an awful lot of green! I'm using a mix of cobalt blue, lemon yellow and a touch of Indian red. Too many pigments will turn it to mud, as we've discussed many times before. I'll be going back with a darker, redder shadow color in the valleys, and a yellower green surrounding the highlights. It is interesting to me to realize that the only place you will really see pure green in the finished painting is in the middle tone areas. This is because the shadow areas will be a dark complementary color, and the highlight areas will be washed out, to the point of no color at all in some cases. So I tell myself not to get too worried at this point that the painting is just a big, boring blob of green. If I flag a little in the days ahead, mixing up endless puddles of green paint, please remind me to hang in there!
Onward!
Monday, April 1, 2013
Swiss Chard report
Happy Easter! Happy Spring!! Finally, today the weather seems to have come around to its normal range for this time of year. The last traces of snow (all of the former snowmen in the neighborhood) have finally succumbed to the warm sun. Everywhere you look the daffodils are bobbing their sunny heads and the pear trees are bursting to bloom.
I'm back at the painting table, delving in to a painting I had abandoned last fall: the Swiss chard. Actually, I threw out the first attempt and started anew. I don't normally give up on a painting, but I started off on the wrong tack and couldn't right it. This is why I try to make very detailed drawings and notes at the beginning, so that I can do another painting down the road if I need to, without the plant in front of me.
So here we are. I have transferred the sketch to new paper, and have lightly painted the entire composition in a pale yellow tea wash. I am now doing what I failed to do the first time, which is to work out the form. Swiss chard is a beautiful plant -- the lush, dark green leaf contrasting sharply with the pale yellow ribs and veins. The leaf is tall and puckered and folded and ruffled in a graceful way, yet each leaf stalk is stiff and sturdy, unlike the ephemeral azalea petals and budding tiny leaves we just left behind. I'm also going to investigate the root, which adds a certain interest to the composition. This is common practice in a strict botanical illustration, because it adds to the information the artist can convey about how the plant grows. We'll see if you like the addition of that brown, gnarly thing when we get there. But for today, enjoy the beginnings of the leaves!
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