Florida Skies Preview (Hospital Art Installations, Pt. 1)

The theme for the project I'm currently working on is "Florida Skies" and it's really quite rad. It involves multiple stages, various facets and all kinds of interesting challenges.  In other words, its good work!  Thank you Shands Healthcare for being awesome to work for, even when I'm not on site anymore.

As *part* of the project, these little guys will be greeting you at the entrance to the new Pediatric Cardiac Intensive Care unit.  The installation method is going to be unique to say the least.  I get to oversee it, kind of, from afar.  Let's just say I'm glad I won't have to be one of the guys hauling 4-ft long, irregular-shaped, 3/4" thick glass up to the 10th floor.

I'm so lucky to have met and worked with such awesome people back in Gainesville.  The director of the Arts in Medicine program, whose also has the separate job of making the hospital environment as visually warm, inviting and hope-inspiring a pace as possible, somehow saw fit not only to contract me as an Artist in Residence back in the fall of 2008, when I didn't know what the heck I was doing with my career, then to encourage me to explore all the various nooks and crannies of possibilities within that post, she's now brought me on board several times to help with environmental design aspect.  Who knew?  And yet I love it.

I know the work I'm doing for this project isn't conceptually deep.  I could write a thesis on the distinctions between High Art and art as approachable commodity, all the interesting levels in between, and the appropriateness of each in various settings.  But I have to assume it's somewhat obvious in this context.  The psychological aspect is the setting itself, where certain imagery that feels safe and comforting--and is universal, might actually improve the overall experience, even if only subconsciously and only slightly, of, say, a kid whose sibling is about to undergo open heart surgery that they can barely understand.

I love that the theme for this unit is birds and suns and clouds and things that fly.  It's tempting to say that I got that proverbial, elusive creative job where the sky, literally, is the limit.  As in, I'm limited to things that are in the sky.  But it's a good place to be (provided you're not afraid of heights...) After getting the layout of the unit and the locations where my images would be installed, I came up with some vague idea about a baby bird, looking out wistfully over the edge of the nest, at the adjacent wall where the adult birds are flying in graceful swooping arcs.  Is he dreaming of his own potential?  Is he the child in the hospital?  Is he the helpless parent or the determined caregiver? Is he the embodiment of hope itself?  That's about as deep as it will get, but in this particular context, I think that'll do.

"Galveston Hangs" Preview

I snapped these photos of the work-in-progress a few days ago, so it's rather further-along now, but I don't want to give too much away before the official opening of the show next Saturday.  As you can see, I'm using a Reyna color palette.The task at hand is to create a mural depicting "what Galveston means to me."                                                                                                       Based on my having lived here for all of four months, (and in all honesty--still not totally sold...there was some really nasty black, tarry crudd washing up on the beach yesterday,) I decided to focus more broadly on what community means to me.  

My mural will depict ways I enjoy participating in my community, such as getting books from the library, biking, growing a garden, and buying food at the local farmer's market.  All these things have been important and satisfying to me in each place I've lived, from Wisconsin to Savannah to Florida, and now here.  If I have to give it a title, I might call it, "a place to grow."

To be honest, I'm still wishing for a nice shady bike path around here, or even a safe commute to downtown. The locals keep telling me Galveston is a GREAT place to bike--they just do it on the streets, in the blazing sun, around the ubiquitous both-sides-of-the-street-parking, I guess.  

I was invited by a fellow Galveston Hangs artist to go on a ride last week, but unfortunately I was too busy painting this mural!  As soon as it and the Shands project are done, I will try it out.  Until then, my painting, as it does so often, will portray my idealized world. 

(Cos my tomatoes were never that bountiful!)   

Getting Intimate with a Sheet of Plywood

Ah, the process.

I'm commencing work on the 8x2 foot panel for the Galveston Arts Center.  By panel, of course, I mean rough plywood, which was donated by a local construction company for the exhibit, which was very cool and generous, but wow...

It ain't pretty, but it's what I have to work with. Thank goodness I own a power sander!

For those who missed the Facebook Post, it's going up on a window of a beautiful building on the Strand (the historic downtown district in Galveston) for about a month or so.  It's part of a large, sponsored outdoor art show curated by GAC to raise funds to complete the restoration of the building.

Hopefully I can finish with the spackle and primer tomorrow and get some solid sketches done in time for a weekend of fun!*

*By which I mean work.

Finishing (continued from last post)

Step 8: Re-draw the image full-size on cheap copy paper. (I tape sheets together if one isn't big enough.)  Sometimes I enlarge and trace my thumbnail, sometimes I use an intermediary sketch (like when the client needs to see the sketch, I do a prettier one for them).  Either way, any number of departures are made at this stage; this is where I really make use of my reference material if I need to. (Is that hair ornament the right one for the time period? Do people's elbows really bend that way? Is this linear perspective believable?) Erase and revise with abandon.

Ready to paint!

Step 9: Prepare the final surface.  When I work in watercolor or other semi-transparent media, I don't want any eraser marks on my final piece.  So this step is just where I lightly trace the finalized step 8 (without all its messy mistakes) onto my watercolor paper.  I have a 16x18" light box for this process, which helps a lot. Then, if it's large, I wet the paper and stretch it onto a piece of plywood or thick foam board and let it dry nice and tight to prevent warping.  Any pencil marks on the paper before this step will get sealed in, so they won't smudge.

Step 10: Painting! All the decision-making and hard work is done; now it's time to just relax and color.  For this set, I did a light wash of color over the whole paper first, which can help keep the colors harmonious, but isn't good if you want a true, transparent watercolor look.  

I paint backgrounds first and figures last; I have a tendency to go too light on the figures if I paint them against a white background. They probably taught me that in art school, but I had to do it wrong a bunch of times before it sank in.


I come back afterwards and do some clean up with ink, pencil, or more opaque paint and a tiny brush. I'll darken, highlight or define certain areas using my references as a guide if I have them.  (In this case I didn't use much direct reference--I only had a day to paint each of these, so the people and settings are basically made-up after glancing at some pictures.)  


As soon as it's dry I pull off any tape, staples, etc., sign it, photograph or scan it, file it, package or frame it and get it where it needs to go on time.  

Have a creative and productive work day!

Update: All four finished paintings have now been sold.  If you would like to commission similar ones, please let me know!

Beginning Stages

I don't know about you, but when I visit an artist's blog it's probably because I want to know about their process--how they go from idea to execution.  So disappointing when they just say, "I use gouache."  Step-by-step, please, including what kind of coffee you're drinking and how often you dip the brush in it by accident.  

Assuming most people don't want quite the level of detail I do, I'm going to try to make a succinct run-through of how I get started on a project like the one I'm working on now.  This is pretty much the same process for all my work when there is a clear job/projct/client.  Personal stuff tends to be more, well, spontaneous, but not always. 

So I'm currently doing a series of illustrations for a business downtown that is a board game cafe.  It's a cafe where you can play board games--any from a collection of 500+, so they say.  The grand opening is the day before the next Art Walk, so they want to make sure they have awesome art on their walls, and they will, because I'm making it.  (Some of it.)

So, Step 1:  Find a project.  Done.*

Step 2: Take a mental inventory of everything you know about the subject.  Think of the most obvious and boring ways to illustrate it in a picture. Think of all the things you could get wrong due to your lack of understanding of the subject. Imagine people making "phhhtt" noises at the picture you are not going to make.

Step 3: Now think about what you would like to do--never mind if it's perfectly appropriate within the parameters of the project for now.  pppp.  Lay awake thinking of interesting ways to compose pictures that involve your subject. Have a brilliant idea or two.  Go to sleep. 

Step 4: Research & Coffee!!!  Okay, so I have my idea now--something to do with board games throughout the world and in history.  It's an idea I can get excited about; there's variety, depth, culture, escapism...  Now I have to go learn something, or many things, that I didn't know before, like where did chess originate anyway, and is Chinese Checkers really Chinese? (My guess was no--I was right.)  Put my faith in Wikipedia and Google Image search, and follow any interesting leads.  Create folders on desktop to file interesting bits and useful reference material.


Step 5: Now that I'm bombarded with information and images, I go have another coffee, take a shower and then start to sketch--away from the material I just collected.  Now is the time for it to mingle with what's innately in my head.  This is how I make sure I start a picture that I actually want to finish, instead of just piecing existing images together and losing interest halfway through.  I make a few loose thumbnails arranging things in different ways, thinking a little bit about color and a lot about tone, gesture and composition and not too much about accuracy.  

Step 6: Come back the next day and think about accuracy.  Do more research. Revise thumbnails.  

*Step No-Later-Than-This: EARLY is the best time to lock down on a format if I haven't been given one by the client.  Work that's getting framed goes in frames. Just saw some nice 12x16" frames with mats go on sale? I just picked my format! This saves many tears later on.

Step 7: Think about color.  This is where I am now.  I often jot down a few notes about color next to my thumbnails.  I have my favorite color schemes, and I'm not ashamed of them.  Before painting, I will test them out on a scrap just to make sure.




 

...after thinking about color, I scan in my thumbnails and do a couple of really rough color comps in Photoshop. I turn the sketch into a transparent layer and then, on a new layer, I scribble in anything close to the right color, using the basic paintbrush tool.  Then I use "replace color" and select any area to automatically adjust that color everywhere it appears.  So, color, tweak, and repeat until it makes me feel happy.

Steps 8-Finish coming soon!