A Painter Looks At 80

Of course I stole the above title from Jimmy Buffet’s “A Pirate Looks At 40.” Then I doubled it to make it age appropriate for me and thought that made it a good theft. Decade markers seem to invite rumination about aging, the meaning of life and other equally cheery stuff. My wading into that swamp was interrupted by a brief trip to Yoshi’s Jazz Club in Oakland to hear Lee Ritenour and Dave Grusin. At 72, guitarist Lee Ritenour is the youngster. Besides being known as an excellent keyboard artist, Dave Grusin, age 90, has done just about everything in the music business. To say that their performance was cooking, would be to put it mildly. Was there a message in there for me?

While contemplating the answer to this and other esoteric questions, I encountered an article in The Guardian about Dave Hampton an English painter who is 97 and although not widely known, has an impressive body of work. He is currently enjoying an expanding awareness of his paintings and his first one man show at a gallery in Bath, England.  

Check out the article about Dave here: The Guardian 3/18/24

It finally became clear that what I need to focus most on is just showing up and doing the work. As Dave Hampton says, “I don’t paint because I want to. I paint because I have to.”

It’s time to go………

Back In The Studio

It may have taken me a while to get the message, but I showed up and completed another large format canvas. “An Empty Sky” (44”x33” Acrylic on canvas) started with a photo I took looking out of the window of an airliner as we departed Seattle.

How long did it take to make this painting? I took the photo in 2022, worked on it digitally last year and painted on the canvas for most of March. So, did it take two years to complete the piece or was it only a month? I’m not sure if it matters.

It went something like this -

One More Thing

In other art related news, I’ve donated Offshore to The Crocker Museum’s ‘Big Names Small Art’ fund raiser auction which will take place online from May 10 ~ June 2. There is more information about the auction here - Crocker Auction

Offshore is a small mixed media piece - 12”x12” digitally altered photo and acrylic paint on a plywood panel. It was originally intended as a study for a larger 36” square format canvas. If I’m going to use it for that purpose, I have to get the canvas fairly well along before I drop off the study at The Crocker on May 5. Better get busy.

The Thing About Clouds....

My fascination with clouds doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. My first up close and personal encounter with them came during advanced flight training in Kingsville TX. There was a period of several weeks when we practiced aircraft carrier landing approaches to a concrete runway that was firmly affixed to the earth. That was work. The outlying field at which we did this was some 80 or so miles from Kingsville. As advanced students, once we completed our work, we were pretty much on our own returning to home base. Often, the 10 to 15-minute trip back to Kingsville turned into a 4 plane follow the leader tail chase around the puffy little cumulous clouds that rolled in off the Gulf of Mexico. That was great fun and left visual impressions that are sometimes still appearing in my paintings.

A couple of decades later I discovered soaring. There are some remarkable similarities between flying gliders and flying tactical military aircraft, but the understanding and appreciation of clouds required for soaring flight is on a whole different level. Somewhere along the almost 40-year journey of trying to better read and understand clouds, I became aware of the “Cloud Appreciation Society.” CAS was launched in 2005 by Gavin Pretor-Pinney to bring together people around the world who share a love of the sky. My kind of people. There are at present over 60,000 members who receive a cloud of the day in their email. I look forward to seeing mine each morning.

It turns out that Gavin had never inspected clouds from aloft. So, in 2018 my friend Kempton took him up to do so. They were fortunate enough to fly on a day when a phenomenon known as a standing mountain wave was present in the lee of the Sierra Nevada mountains. That meant that they were able to rapidly climb up to 17,000 feet without an engine and closely examine a lenticular cloud. A good time was had by all.

Note to my glider pilot friends: I’m aware that some of the clouds in my paintings are perhaps meteorologically improbable. In the cockpit, you must fly the clouds that the day provides. In the studio, you have the freedom to fly with any clouds that convey a sense of atmosphere and the vastness of that ocean of air above the earth’s surface.

Meanwhile Back in the Studio….

Part of the Cloud Appreciation Society manifesto states that, “We believe that clouds are for dreamers and their contemplation benefits the soul.” I certainly agree with that sentiment. Although I am no longer actively piloting, my head is still in the clouds. I’ve completed a series of small-scale studies and feel emboldened to set forth on the next stage of the journey which is turning the studies into large format paintings. The first one (37”x64”) looks like this –

Various stops along the way looked like this --

I started work on this piece in early January and the goal is to get between 8 and 10 of these rascals out there this year. That means I’m a little behind schedule. I’d better get busy.

85% Of Everything Is Actually Something Else

Theodore Sturgeon was an American Science Fiction author and critic who in a column in the September 1957 issue of Venture Science Fiction magazine first revealed Sturgeon’s Law which states that “90% of everything is crap.”

I stumbled across Sturgeon’s Law (sometimes known as Sturgeon’s Revelation) several decades after the original publication. It rang true to me, so of course I stole it and reworked it to make it my own. One of my central tenets is that “85% of everything is something else.”

I know this is true for my artwork. Last week I was finally able to start putting paint on a large format canvas – that’s the main event and the 15% part of the whole painting thing. The 85% part is the digital upfront work with photos I’ve taken, followed by some digital painting which results in prints that are mounted on small plywood panels and then painted on with a physical brush to establish final composition and best color gamut. I’ve been working on setting up a series of images since early December. This is all part of getting ready/confident to start on the main event - which can take between a few weeks and forever. But to me it seems worth the effort.

I think the 85% rule holds true for a lot (perhaps 85%) of other activities. Recently I was on the phone catching up with an old flying friend. She asked me if since I was no longer actively involved in piloting, I had a lot of time to spend painting. I replied that the percentage of time I actually spend in the studio with brush in hand compared to the time I spend on all the other stuff necessary to produce art was probably equal to the percentage of time she spent hands on the controls of an aircraft in flight compared to all the time and effort spent on other aviation related activities necessary to get to the point of actually flying the plane. She immediately understood what I was talking about.

Your mileage may vary, but I’m guessing that the 85% figure is probably in the right ballpark.

Also in the Studio

Roger, the orange and white Maine Coon cat in the photo on the ‘About’ page of my website is no longer with us. I need to update that web page but it’s hard to see him go. He died in the summer of 2022 after a pretty full life. I soon discovered that I need a cat in my life, so almost a year ago Fred agreed to take on the role of studio supervisor as long as I agreed to keep putting food in his bowl.

My relationship with Fred is very different than my relationship with Roger. Roger was one of the most laid-back beings that I have ever encountered. He never got upset and rarely moved through life at any pace brisker than a fast trot. Fred started out in a feral colony and has a different outlook on things. He regularly tears through the house at what we would describe in Navy terms as ‘high subsonic speeds.’ This also involves literally bouncing off walls and sometimes destroying my stuff. But he’s got a good heart, apparently likes the food I put in his bowl, and we are both working on our relationship. I’ve got wounds on my hands and arms to prove it. He’s a good pal and things will get more relaxed once he finishes his adolescent craziness.

Some of the People From Whom I steal Things

“Art is theft” - Pablo Picasso

In his wonderful little book “Steal Like An Artist”, Austin Kleon describes how to do just that and why stealing is an essential part of the creative process. It feels like the time has come to confess to some of my thefts. I’d like to think that most of my stealing has been good theft - that which honors the source and is transformative not duplicative. Good theft requires a bit more effort than bad theft.

I encountered April Gornik’s work (https://www.aprilgornik.com/) when I was reconnecting with my own art after decades of letting my passion for viewing the earth from altitude and the general business of life get in the way of my painting. She describes herself as, “A painter of un-peopled landscapes” and uses Photoshop extensively as a digital sketch pad to develop her large format paintings. All of this seemed like a good idea, so I stole it. I have a long way to go in developing my own Photoshop skillset, but it is proving to be worth the effort. Coincidentally and not related to my theft, we both grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland Ohio.

I mentioned William Garnett’s aerial photography in an earlier blog. I only recently became aware of his work, so I haven’t the opportunity to steal much from him – so far. His use of an aerial point of view is close enough to mine that I need to study it a little more to figure out a way to effectively steal some of it.

Luminism is a style of landscape painting popular in the late 19th century that, depending on one’s point of view, is either associated with or stolen from the Hudson River School of painting. Although I don’t share their attention to detail, I’m continuously trying to steal bits and pieces of how the Luminists used tone and light.

Closer to home, fellow Arthouse artist Dianne Poinski (https://www.dpoinski.com) has patiently explained to me how she mounts her photographs on plywood panels and paints on them with encaustic. She has told me that she isn’t a painter, but her work sure looks like painting to me, and I admire it. So, I stole her process using acrylic paint instead of hot wax. The combination of digital and physical brushwork serves as a development path for me that leads to where I need to go with large format canvas painting.

---

Meanwhile, In My Studio

‘Batch processing’ sounds like a term that might be applied to manufacturing or perhaps software utilization. None the less, I’m in the midst of some batch processing in my studio. I have several digitally modified composite images from my iPhone that I’ve printed and mounted on plywood panels (Thank you Dianne). I’m currently painting on the panels and am finding it productive to work on them all at once. What happens on one panel informs what I can do with another. In that regard it is kind of synergistic. I plan to show the panels in whatever stage of completion they happen to be at ARTHOUSE (1021 R Street, Sac.) for Second Saturday, January 13 from 5 to 8pm. Come take a look. Comments are welcome and it is possible that any advice offered might be heeded. Hopefully it will soon be time to start on the final stage – painting on large format canvas. This final stage will have to be done one at a time because I don’t have room in my studio to accommodate four or five large canvases. It looks like I have the next several months work laid out ahead of me. That feels good and somewhat challenging at the same time.

A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away...

On Christmas Eve 1969, I had the good fortune to meet Neil Armstrong. He was touring with the Bob Hope USO Show and they performed on the hanger deck of the USS Ranger, the carrier upon which my squadron was deployed. Neil gave a brief presentation, then patiently and politely answered questions from the audience about his recent trip to the moon for what must have seemed to him like an eternity. The rest of the Bob Hope show, as performed in front of a couple of thousand sailors who had been at sea for a month, was considerably more ‘R’ rated than the version that eventually made its way to TV. Being a Naval Aviator, Neil couldn’t be aboard an aircraft carrier without stopping by the ready rooms to briefly say “Hello” to the pilots.

So how does that connect with my artwork? The connection came several decades later through Alan Bean, another Apollo Astronaut and Naval Aviator who was the 4th man to walk on the moon. He left NASA in 1981 to devote himself full time to painting. He pursued his art with the same drive and intensity that he needed to become an astronaut. He said, “I think of myself not as an astronaut who paints, but as an artist who was once an astronaut.” That resonated with me so I co-opted it and made it my own (never use an original thought when you can artfully steal one from someone else). “I‘m not an old man who took up painting. I’m an artist who painted into his old age.”

Meanwhile, In My Studio

The ”Side By Side Exhibit”, which opens at Arthouse Saturday, 12/9 from 5 to 8pm, gave me the opportunity to spend some time in the studio with granddaughter Lucy painting and just hanging out. A good time was had by all. Hope you get a chance to stop by and check out the show. My piece came from a flight that I took in October with my friend Ben Mayes from Williams Soaring Center.  If you want to know where the truck came from, you’ll have to ask Lucy.

And One More Thing

While the small piece to show side by side with Lucy was fun. The large format canvas continues to hold appeal for me. I recently completed The Hills On The Border. It’s 42x54” and is the end result of the process I described in a blog post last month. The full size canvas and smaller (16”x20”) framed, limited edition giclee prints are are also available in Studio #7 at Arthouse. Come take a look.

Oceans of Air

I was pleased when I was asked to show my work in the Sacramento County Board of Supervisors Chambers. Finding a suitable venue for large format paintings can be challenging simply because as the size of each piece increases, the number of places with enough room to suitably display them decreases. There is probably a mathematical formula that describes that relationship, but I’m not going to go there. Here is a link to an article with details about the show in the Sacramento County Newsletter.

I was even more pleased when I learned that the show was mentioned by Jessica Laskey in her ‘Out & About’ column in the December issue of Inside Sacramento. The December issue isn’t available online yet, so check it out in the print edition which seems to appear automagically all over town.

Common Ground (or Air)

Someone passing through Studio #7 during last month’s 2nd Saturday at Arthouse was kind enough to tell me that my work reminded them of William Garnett’s photography. So of course, when I got home, I had to look him up because I had never heard of him. He is credited with being the first photographer to use aerial imagery as an art form rather than for more practical endeavors such as surveying or mapping. It was immediately apparent that we shared a strong tie to aviation. He was a trained photographer when he hitched a ride home to California from the east coast at the end of WWII in the navigators’ seat of a C-54 military transport. The visuals on the trip made such an impression on him that when he got home, he used his VA benefits to get his pilot’s certificate, eventually bought a 1955 Cessna 170B and spent most of the rest of his life creating some stunning aerial imagery. I would have loved to have met him. Ansel Adams wrote in his introduction to Garnett’s book The Extraordinary Landscape, “His control of his airplane, of the camera mechanisms, and of the subtleties of exposure is profound.”

As a pilot, I have respect for his being able to fly the aircraft and at the same time take meaningful photographs by hand with no image stabilization or any of the other helpful stuff that modern cameras have. I’ve tried it and it’s difficult. But that respect pales in comparison to the respect for the imagery itself. All this left me feeling quite flattered by the comparison. Wish I could remember the name of the person who told me about William Garnett. If you are that person and you see this, please get in touch. I’d like to thank you.

Here’s a small sample of Garnett’s work, which of course looks better in a larger format -

If you are curious about Garnett’s work, I’ll have a copy of his book The Extraordinary Landscape with me at ARTHOUSE Studio #7 for this month’s 2nd Saturday - Nov. 11 5-8:00pm. Come take a look.

---

Meanwhile Back In The Studio -

For me, the large format work of applying paint on canvas is the most enjoyable part of the whole creative process. Most of the process is just doing something else that has to be done in order to get to the fun stuff. Flying is like that too. I’ve finally gotten to the fun part of the latest canvas. So far it has gone fairly well. It was a tough negotiation, but I was able to get Fred the cat to agree not to leave a pawprint in any wet paint.

More later…..

New Stuff

I think most people engaged in creative ventures struggle a bit with achieving a balance between producing work and promoting it. I’m no exception. What you see and will continue to see in this blog/newsletter is part of my attempt to reach that elusive balance between production and promotion.

On the production side of the equation, I’ve recently completed “Cliffs”, a large format painting that is representative of where my work is headed.

Cliffs 36”x48” acrylic on canvas

Here is a little bit about the process I used to make it. I started with a couple of unremarkable photos that I took out of the window of an airliner.

I composited them in Photoshop, fussed with them a bit and printed the results.

Then I mounted the print on a small plywood panel and started painting on it.

Cliffs study 16”x20” mixed media

Completing this small-scale study gave me the confidence to start work on the full-sized canvas, starting with basic value patterns.

Somewhere along the way it became apparent that changes were needed, and it was time to depart from the study. So, I did that. After changing the composition, it was a straightforward task to emphasize the cliffs which seemed to become more important when the small scale study was enlarged.

The entire process took about two months of elapsed time to complete. Of course, this includes the time spent tending to the needs of Fred who, as my current cat, has established specific standards about how his food bowl needs to be kept full, and in general have his needs met in a timely manner. More about Fred later.

“Cliffs” will be on display in my studio at ARTHOUSE (1021 R Street, Sacramento, CA) during the upcoming Second Saturday event October 14 from 5 to 8PM. Limited edition giclee prints are also available. Come check it out.

Right now, I need to go take care of Fred.