Tag Archive | words about art

Hard Times Make Great Art

Some folks – maybe a lot of people – are hurting right now. Feeling angry. Feeling devalued. Feeling that their voice doesn’t matter. Feeling powerless. Hard times are… hard. Hard times make great art. Always have.

…The world feels like it’s on fire, and there is war and destruction everywhere…

When I came home from Desert Storm, my painting style had changed (rather a lot), and the things on my mind began to percolate up through my art. I painted the war. I painted the chaos. I painted the things I didn’t have words for. I’ve used art to give voice to the things I don’t have words for “all along” – at least for the whole time I’ve been an artist.

“Kuwaiti Oil Fires” 20″ x 48″ oil on stretched silk, 1991

Shortly after I returned from the war, I gave up oil painting entirely, in favor of acrylic and pursued an abiding fascination with abstraction, and the use of nontraditional pigments and mixed-media elements in my work.

… And events just kept delivering hard times and trauma to reflect in art…

“9-11″ 18″ x 24” acrylic on canvas, 2001

Hard times come and go. Trauma is inflicted and endured, and trauma heals. The art remains.

I guess I’m just saying inspiration comes in many forms. Sometimes a beautiful sunrise on a favorite trailhead is enough. Sometimes events and circumstances provide inspiration of a different sort. I don’t know what to expect of my work from here, I only know I’ll keep feeling – and painting.

“Drone Strikes” 5″ x 7″ pastel on pastelbord, 2024

Comparing Soft Pastels: Henri Roché, Sennelier, Blue Earth [updated]

I chose my first soft pastels with care, but also with limited experience (and I’m still quite new to pastels as I write this). I’ll admit, too, that one detail important for me personally was not related to the look or feel of using the pastels, nor to do with the pastels themselves, directly; the history of the brand. The legacy. The way they have withstood the test of time, and the other artists who have used them. No surprise, then, that two French brands stood out for me, and ended up being early choices for me in this medium, eh? Sennelier and Henri Roché.

It was Henri Roché, as a brand, that inspired me to try pastels at all. (Probably not my most cost-effective source of inspiration, not gonna lie. lol) This brand has serious history, though. Here’s a good video about it. Here’s another.

Sennelier has been around awhile, too, and is a definite “workhorse” of a soft pastel brand that many many artists of note have used. There’s a sense of continuity in using them, beyond their good general quality. They’re also pretty commonly available at art supply stores.

I like both of these brands, not only for their history, but also for how they feel, and the look of them on the page. The colors have good durability, and lay down well. They feel soft and smooth in my hand without falling apart easily, with some specific pigments in each brand having some variance (sometimes a bit gritty, other times a tad dusty, and it seems more to do with the specific pigments being used and less about either brand generally). I love the colors.

One thing about both these brands, though, is that they’re made in France. By itself this isn’t a problem at all, it just comes with a catch; it’s not always easy to find or obtain some specific individual color quickly, and I’m not always looking for a set. There are occasions when I’m not willing to sacrifice inspiration in the moment to wait on a package to arrive. These can be costly, too (and let’s be frank, the Henri Roché pastels are the Lambo of soft pastels – they have the price to prove it – and everything else that seems “expensive” is quite reasonable by comparison). I’m not really giving price much thought, here, I’m just making a point to identify this as a potential concern for most artists.

I do want to talk about how these compare to an American brand of very similar reputed quality. I’m trying this brand for the first time; Blue Earth pastels. There’s not much history here (made since 2012), so “legacy” details aren’t a factor, but I’d heard they’re very good quality and couldn’t find a direct comparison between the Henri Roché pastels and these. I’ll be comparing these three brands for my own benefit, and deciding whether to continue to use all three, or pare things down to two favorites over time (it’s a personal preference; I don’t prefer to have a wild random assortment of different brands in the medium I use). There don’t seem to be many comparisons of these brands to each other, so I’m sharing my thoughts.

I’m hoping to make a decision which brand will form the foundation of my palette long-term, versus being relegated mostly to accents, highlights, fun stuff, and specific projects or unique colors. (I did say I’m not focused on price, but… I’m also not made out of money. lol)

Here’s what I’ll be comparing:

  • Color characteristics
  • How they feel in my fingers
  • How they lay down on the surface I’m using
  • How much dust they make in regular use
  • How easily they smudge and blend
  • How much I enjoy using them in general (which is quite subjective but matters most to me personally)

Shall we get started?

This is my current selection of Henri Roché pastels:

My Henri Roché pastels photographed in a state of chaos in my Roz Box (after a mishap resulted in spilling them to a tabletop).

I don’t have many of these; I buy them “as a treat” now and then or for a particular project that just wants that special something. There are currently 1958 available colors, total (wow!).  I purchased these as small half-stick assortments, (and there are several really nice ones to choose from), and selected a small custom assortment of full size sticks in green hues which use pigments I favor (cobalt, chromium, and cadmium). I purchased them directly from the manufacturer’s website, but they are also available from a US vendor online, here.

Three half-stick assortments that got me started with Henri Roché.
  • Color characteristics – Color-wise, the Henri Roché soft pastels are amazing. Unmatched pigment saturation and there are so many beautiful hues to select from! I love the way each color has a selection of tints and shades from full saturation to the lightest most delicate tint. I never regret choosing colors from this brand.
  • How they feel in my fingers – The pigment is quite fine, and minimal binder is used in these. They aren’t “powdery”, nor are they “chalky”. They have a dry, firm, feel without being brittle in use. Some specific pigments seem slightly more “coarse”, with a somewhat rougher feel. I’d call these generally “fine”. They feel soft and smooth in my fingers. These are slim round sticks, well-crafted (by hand) with excellent consistency of shape and density.
  • How they lay down on the surface I’m using – These pastels lay down dense even color on the surfaces I prefer (usually pastelmat or pastelbord). They don’t tend to flake at all, and the dust produced isn’t excessive or super powdery. They adhere well to a surface.
  • How much dust they make in regular use – meh. “Normal dusty”? These pastels are very much my idea of… Ideal.
  • How easily they smudge and blend – these pastels smudge and blend well when approached with intention. I find that they don’t seem prone to “casual smudging” that can easily muddy a very colorful piece of work, which is nice.
  • How much I enjoy using them – truthfully, I love using these, and if it were a “cost no object” sort of world I’d have the complete set, and none other.

This is my current selection of Sennelier, (mostly purchased as a set):

My selection of Sennelier soft pastels, photographed in my Roz Box, rather randomly placed.

There are currently 525 shades listed available on their website. My original set was a set of half-sticks, but new colors have been purchased from their open stock full sticks. These are very easy to come by, and even the larger sets are quite affordable and available online and in local art stores. The paper wrappers on the full sticks are a pain in the ass to remove.

  • Color characteristics – these pastels have good saturation and and a good selection to choose from. They’re readily available in good sized sets with enough variety to really get started (which is how they ended up being my first pastels).
  • How they feel in my fingers – I’d call these “medium fine”. They have an amount of binder consistent with most professional brands of soft pastel, and feel dry and soft-ish in my fingers. They are more prone to flaking than the Henri Roché pastels. They don’t tend break in normal use. They are not particularly even in size or form (half sticks), and the wrappers are a serious annoyance (full size sticks). These are round sticks, and considering the volume they sell, it’s not a surprise that modern manufacturing techniques and machines are used to make them. They often have little air pockets here and there.
  • How they lay down on the surface I’m using – these pastels lay down a good bit of pigment but only as evenly as the stick itself is well-shaped. These benefit from some attention to the side or edge I plan to use before I proceed.
  • How much dust they make in regular use – these seem a bit less dusty than either the Henri Roché or the Blue Earth pastels. This probably has to do with the specific binders used and the relative coarseness of the pigment particle size. I’ve got to use quite a bit of pressure to create a lot of dust with these. They’re pretty easy to vacuum up or wipe from a tabletop.
  • How easily they smudge and blend – these smudge decently well without excessive muddying, but don’t blend as well as the Henri Roché pastels. This may be something to do with how various shades are created or the binders used. I started with these, though, and I’ve learned their ways. lol
  • How much I enjoy using them – these pastels are suitably pleasant to use. They’re sort of a “Honda Civic” (my opinion) – reliable, comfortable, conveniently available, but they aren’t an “effortless experience”, nor are they “luxurious”. I probably used the right phrase earlier; “workhorse”. I use them a lot, and often reach for them first when I set up the palette for an individual piece, and if not first, I end up grabbing one on the fly, in a moment of inspiration.

Here’s the new selection of Blue Earth pastels, to consider:

The newly arrived assortment of Blue Earth pastels, the Nomad 56 selection.

The “full set” of colors available on the website includes 336 colors, but does not include the 21 darks that are also available (so, 357 in the line, total, as of writing this). The individual sticks are square, with precise “sharp” edges when they arrive, very flat sides and about “half stick” sized. These have less availability, but are easy to order online, although several of the assortments are often on back order.

  • Color characteristics: the pigment seems pretty dense and concentrated, with a reasonable amount of binder (not too much, and they don’t end up seeming chalky at all).
  • How they feel in my fingers: The surface of these pastels is very silky smooth and soft. I’d call them “very fine”. These are quite square with good symmetry and very consistent shape. I don’t have any information about the specifics of how they are made.
  • How they lay down on the surface I’m using: These pastels lay down a relatively thick amount of pigment without much pressure, and blend nicely. There’s some flaking, not a lot, but this can drop occasional chunks of pastel in spots I didn’t expect (or want) it to be.
  • How much dust they make in regular use: I’d characterize these as relatively “dusty”, due to the very fine pigment. After doing a small “test piece”, I found little drifts of dust here and there out of sight that I didn’t expect when I was tidying up. If I were going to make these my primary pastels, I’d certainly want to consider using a mask or respirator, as it seems likely there’d be quite a bit of dust ending up in the air, too.
  • How easily they smudge and blend: these pastels smudge and blend very easily, that was definitely a fun part of using them. I also found that I reliably had to go back over several areas to add more pigment, as the process of blending and smudging also removed more than I anticipated.
  • How much I enjoy using them: these are very pleasant to use. I don’t personally care for the vertical storage of the box they come in for actual use; they’ll end up in my Roz Box, in a section of their own, or in some other case similarly set up for laying them out horizontally. They behave quite differently (in my hand) than the French pastels I’m more used to. Mixed feelings, for me, and I’m a bit undecided.

This comparison is more difficult than I expected, when I consider my goal of settling on a preferred brand for my pastels, generally. I find myself yearning to embrace Henri Roché with a “cost no object!” battle cry, and having to admit that may be unrealistic. I haven’t yet used the Blue Earth pastels enough to be certain whether I could ever replace the Sennelier pastels with those, although I find myself considering it because the manufacturing quality stick-by-stick is clearly better. I think I want to spend more time painting with them before I decide – but that’s the direction I’m leaning.

I give some thought, too, to making a decision from a “use case” perspective, meaning to say perhaps I could relegate the conveniently square, compact, Blue Earth pigments to an assortment intended specifically for travel or plein air painting, and tuck them into a French easel drawer with that in mind? They are quite lovely. I’ve quite a lot to think about.

(My) first piece (ever) using the Sennelier soft pastels.
A similar piece using the Blue Earth soft pastels.

Hopefully putting my thoughts and observations into words is helpful for you in some way, as you consider your options from among the many choices of soft pastels available to you. Thanks for reading!

December 23, 2024 Update:

I’ve been continuing to paint with my combination of Henri Roche, Sennelier, and Blue Earth* pastels, and it seems like a good time to make an update. *The TL;dr is simply this – I don’t find find myself reaching for the Blue Earth pastels very often. Hardly at all, actually. It seems worth saying so.

I want to be very clear that art being what it is, some of the choices an artist makes are purely preference. There’s nothing “wrong with” the Blue Earth pastels at all. Great pigments, and they lay down well. They feel good in my fingers when I’m using them. I just don’t reach for them, even though they are right there in my Roz Box with my Sennelier pastels, conveniently within reach any time. I don’t choose them. Now and then I sort of “make myself use them”, and I’ve committed myself to going ahead and “using them up” to make room in my box for more Sennelier sticks, which I definitey reach for again and again (my HR pastels are in their own Roz Box). I’ll go out of my way to grab a particular Henri Roche color. I rely on my Sennelier pastels day-to-day. Somehow, for some reason, in my particular practice of pastel painting, I just don’t put the Blue Earth pastels to use very often.

I don’t have much insight to offer. It could be the shape? It could be the extra soft softness of using them. It could be the additional dust. I just don’t know. I don’t use them with the comfort and ease with which I use the Henri Roche and Sennelier pastels. It is what it is. They’re lovely, and some other artist may adore them – with good reason. That artist isn’t me.

I spent some hours recently thinking over which additional hues I want to add to my palette – and in every case those will be Henri Roche pastels. I’m not so fortunate as to be able to casually drop thousands of dollars on pastels (very few artists are), so the Sennelier pastels help fill in a lot of my palette with “day-to-day” hues. These are the pastels I use. I’m okay with that.

Choose what works for you. 😀

Learning From Mistakes

On a December trip to the coast last year, I saw an amazing sun rise. The sky was infused with hues of bold pink. I managed to get a shot or two, but mostly just watched it quickly evolve. It developed quickly, and quickly faded away.

So very pink.

On my most recent trip to the same favorite location, I found myself trying to capture that moment and the bold pink sun rise in pastels, using a combination of the reference photo I had set aside for the purpose, and also the view from my balcony (for scale and proportion and things of that sort). I found myself faced with what could politely be called “mixed success”. lol

“Siletz Bay Pink Sunrise I” 5″ x 7″, pastel on Pastelbord, 2024

Yeah… no. There are things I like about it. Things I don’t. The “mistakes” shout at me – so I tried again.

“Siletz Bay Pink Sunrise II” 5″ x 7″, pastel on Pastelbord, 2024

Another attempt. Another piece about which I have mixed feelings, and a great deal of criticism. lol I set the idea aside for another attempt on some other day.

There are things about both pieces I greatly enjoy. The colors being one of those, and I admittedly simply enjoy a sunrise, and these both find room in my heart on that basis alone. I’ll try this again, though. There is so much to learn from these attempts, and the image that inspires them. I learn a lot from “failure”, if these can really even be called that. They have beauty of their own.

Morning Mist, Taft

“Morning Mist, Taft” 5″ x 7″, pastel on Pastelbord, 2024

This piece illustrates how very much art is in the eye of the beholder, and how little control over that an artist really has. I painted this from the balcony of my hotel room on a misty morning, watching the mist fill the spaces between distant hills on the other side of Siletz Bay. Shortly before, I’d received a worried phone call from my partner, uneasy about the potential of a tsunami (because I’d earlier messaged at how interesting it was to be able to see the tide coming in so easily from my vantage point, then suddenly stopped replying while I was painting this very piece). When I shared the completed work with my partner, he saw the image as tsunami-like, more than any impression of a misty morning. Funny how that goes.

About Inspiration and Where I Find It

I’m planning to be “in the studio” today, though I no longer have a dedicated studio space, for the time being. I’ll fit painting in, between loads of laundry and caregiving tasks, and thoroughly enjoy my creative time, whether I’m perched on the edge of a couch, sitting at the dining table, or working on the floor somewhere. As an artist, I’ve always been adaptable in this way, because for most of my creative lifetime I didn’t have the luxury of having dedicated studio space at all (and once I did, it was often true that I squandered that luxury, and found myself working willy-nilly in some haphazard expedient fashion nonetheless). I’m fortunate to be able to allow inspiration to overtake me, wherever it finds me.

At a trailhead at sunrise…
…or along the edge of a meadow…
…or wandering through a local vineyard…
…at the seashore…
…or in the kitchen, watching the changing shadows.

Inspiration finds me everywhere. I’m looking forward to the next time it catches up with me.

Starting Something New

I’ve got a number of pastels now, and the additional supplies I need to begin exploring what is, for me, an entirely new medium. I may have gone a bit overboard, as starting points go, but I dislike half-way measures, and I’ve reliably found that good quality pigments and well-prepared canvases or good quality paper selected with the purpose in mind gets a better result that “going cheap” – which can often turn out to be more expensive than investing in good materials with care.

Colors – and a starting point.

My pastels? I’ve selected Sennelier for my “basics”, choosing a variety selection of 40 half-sticks from a local art supply shop (to try them out and make damned certain I wanted to proceed with this exciting change), and the 80 half-stick landscape selection, which don’t overlap (as far as I can see). I added (very much an artistic “treat”) a selection of 12 Henri Roche half-sticks (their “vivid” assortment), less because I needed them – I just wanted them very much after seeing a video about their history and how they are made. It was this video that initially inspired me to consider pastels as an artist.

Inspiration in a box.

I found a nice Richeson “Roz Box” pastel case, used. I purchased a set of Rosemary & Co brushes and tools selected for pastels, and some Pastelmat in a comfortable size for “everyday work” as I take my first steps in this new (to me) medium.

Looks like it’s time to paint!

Every journey starts with a first step. Every painting begins with an idea. The Sennelier pastels came with a small piece of their sanded card paper, and I started there, exploring the colors, getting a feel for the medium, learning more about my limitations, my ignorance, and the nature of soft pastels (the dust! the smudging! the beautiful luminous hues!).

The very first pastel painting. 3″ x 6″, Sennelier Pastel Card, untitled sunrise, 2024.

Time Passes Quickly

It’s been more than a year since I last posted in this space. Life has been busy, and generally not artistically, just busy. I lost a dear friend this year, and with her passing I somehow lost a lot of inspirational fuel as well. Unexpected. Health. Aging. Mortality. Just the usual “human stuff” getting in the way of creative work, and here I am – more than a year later, with very little to show for it.

My last notable time spent in the studio was last November. I spent that working on an unfinished piece, “Toxicity”, and had this to say about it:

So this seems to be “the thing that’s been holding me back” in some subtle way; unfinished, and staring back at me in a mocking way, as if to say “you still can’t get past this one, and fuck you for thinking you could”. She’s the face of my chaos and damage. She’s the face of every abusive relationship, every stupid confrontation, every bit of seemingly senseless drama where my rather face-value take on things sometimes leaves me missing some obvious bit of imminent drama that plays to someone else’s sheet music. She’s the hidden agenda. She’s the pointless lie. She’s the temptation that destroys. She’s even the demon within me seeking more bad company to pull me from my better path. She’s the unaddressed past. She’s the poison we deliver to ourselves. She’s the pretty package that is empty inside. She’s “Toxicity”. 

“Toxicity”, acrylic mixed-media on canvas with glow, 2023 (unfinished)

She’s not yet finished. The distortions to the mask were a bit of work, and I stalled shortly after I figured that out – which was sometime ago! Seems so long ago now, and carrying this burden has been… heavy. I’ve quite a lot more to do with this one, but working on it takes a bit out of me every time, as if I am exorcising this demon as I work. She is entirely inspired by ______, although she’s come to represent so much more as I have continued down my path, taking my own internal journey, and working through my bullshit. 11 x 14, mixed media on canvas with glow, tiny coins, molded plastic… and eventually a crown of shards of glass (no kidding – but I found some suitable broken float glass that had been “wave tumbled” and I think it’s a good choice), and some metallic strands of tightly coiled fine wire for hair. Being patient enough to let the glow gel around those coins dry today is hard, but I still need to figure out things like attaching the glass and the wire, and also decide whether the assorted small keys for earrings is too much… but… she’s been a key to so many things, and truly holding me back…so… it fits, yeah? And also… fuck this bitch – and the one who inspired her.

I wrote those words to my departed friend, and it seems a lifetime ago, now. It has been a long while. I’d nearly finished the work on this piece, hopeful I’d exorcised this demon, when my friend passed. Suddenly, it was too late to share new work, too late for deep conversations about life, or art, or anything at all. I found myself entirely stalled and began sloppily using my studio for storage space.

I think I’ve gotten myself sorted out now, and ready to tackle new work. I definitely want to. The challenge? I don’t at all want to do what I’ve done before. I’m hungry for something really new, really different.

Going through boxes and things and getting the studio in order for creative work to come, I found an old cigar box with some odds and ends art supplies in it, tucked in a corner of a drawer, forgotten.

Pastels and colored pencils, barely used at all.

I feel inspired again…

A pivot to an entirely new medium is no small thing, and I’ve no idea where this will take my work. My studio needs an overhaul with this change in mind, so I’ll be taking a look at work currently in storage (unsold) and developing a plan to thin that out through some kind of sale, very soon.

Incomplete, Unfinished, Work-in-Progress

I’m in the studio working on unfinished projects and new work, on this last day of 2021. Seems a good way to mark the end of one year, the transition to the next, as much as anything is. It’s rare for me to hold on to unfinished work long – most pieces are finished within a few days, at most. One or two, over some 40 years as a painter, have lingered months (even years) before finally being finished. Complex work, sometimes, other times it’s been more about a change of context, circumstance, or emotion, that stalls the work and then, more rarely, it becomes lost in the noise of a busy life, forgotten until discovered some time later.

Ending the year in the studio.

Currently, I have 14 unfinished canvases, in various stages of completion, and the oldest of these is a piece I began back in 2015 (a self-portrait). 6 years later, and I am still not ready to finish it (I may have missed my moment on that one). The rest of them are a mixed bag of lost inspiration, technical challenges I haven’t solved yet, and “what the fuck-ery” (where the piece somehow just isn’t coming together as I envisioned, and I haven’t sorted out what to do to recover the piece in some other way).

I hope to end this year here in the studio, in some productive fashion. I hope to begin the new year also here in the studio, productively, looking ahead with new vision. I don’t really do “resolutions” to celebrate the new year. This next year I do hope to post more of my work here, make more of it more easily available, and give a little more time and attention to the craft of the business of art.

I cue the next track on this playlist and get to work.

Time

I could say “my how time flies” and it would be an appropriate observation, if a bit trite and worn out. It’s true, though, whether painting or not painting, living busily or staying home during a pandemic, the time since I last posted has been full. Since my last post (two years ago), I’ve moved (again), and have a(nother) new studio to work in. I just got moved in, actually, and I’m facing my first creative project since the move.

For tedious real-life practical reasons to do with dry wall, flooring, and contractors still needing to get work done, I’ve been finding myself a bit stalled…

My big easel stands tucked back out of the way, waiting for other days, other creative impulses.

This new place inspires me and I feel moved to paint, regularly. It’s not yet time to haul out all the supplies for larger acrylic or mixed media work, and I found myself frustrated – until my stepson dropped in for a visit. He and his father are spending time together in my partner’s woodworking shop, and while I was hanging out chatting, watching, and handling various bits of scrap wood, admiring the various textures and grains, a more specific inspiration struck me – one that allows for us to work together, collaboratively, as a family.

Tiny wood “canvases” waiting for color.

We discussed the wee pieces of oak, and the vague images suggested by the grain of the wood, and the texture of some ragged edges, the result of being a bit aggressive with a plane (new skills take practice). My stepson built the tiny stand up easel. My partner shaped the pieces to make them square, and added a stand to one of them. Now it is my turn to complete the process of bringing these tiny souvenirs of my stepson’s stay to life as miniature art. It’s time for color. 🙂

It’s not a serious change of artistic direction, or any sort of large project or new series, just a sweet diversion as summer becomes autumn, a way of settling into the new studio gently, and a moment to connect creatively with my partner and his son. It gets me back into the studio following the move. A fun little celebration of the real joy to be had in creative work, too.

There’s been plenty of new work to document here. I’ve been slack about it. Better habits ahead, perhaps. 🙂

 

Notes and Note Cards

For some months, I’ve been feeling a bit ‘stalled’ artistically. In part, the time consumed by my ‘day job’ simply didn’t leave much for artistic work, in time, or energy. I managed to comfortably occupy myself creatively with simple pen & ink note cards, which I get considerable joy out of creating, and even more using them as my own stationary, to communicate with friends, family, and loved ones far away.

Art doesn't have to be serious, complicated, or big. :-)

Art doesn’t have to be serious, complicated, or big. 🙂

I spent time sketching other, bigger, projects and made a point of making notes about ideas for other pieces.

My sketchbook is full.

My sketchbook is full.

Life has been comfortably good, with the usual ups and downs a human being can expect over time, and that’s been enough for contentment, generally, but hasn’t tended to motivate me artistically. I’ve had resources, space, inspiration – and now and then, even the time to work – something has been missing, and even now I am not sure what that missing element was.

On a Friday in May – Friday the 13th, actually – I woke up to a terrible morning. In the process of turning the day around, I ended up in the studio, and actually painting… I haven’t stopped. Whatever was missing has been found. 🙂  I’ll be posting images and details of the new work over the next several days, before heading to the trees for additional inspiration.