"Happiness of Donuts" (oil on canvas; 12" x 16")

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Still life setup

I don't eat donuts.  Well, I eat them occasionally, but they are on the "forbidden food" list, which provokes guilt whenever I do.  I suspect that many of us are like me: I love donuts, but my waist line and cholesterol level cannot afford them. 

Last night, John Murray, my still life teacher at the Art League School, brought donuts as still life prop.  Smiles spread on our faces because we knew donuts meant good time.  Two students produced two terrific paintings; others, including myself, also did a decent job with our donut paintings.

On the way home, I thought about what happened in class and realized something important.  If you paint things that make you happy, you are more likely to be involved in the act of painting.  If the objects are enjoyed by many, you are more likely to sell them too!

"Hydrangea and Baby's Breath" (oil on canvas; 16" x 12")

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Still life setup

Once a term we paint large-headed flowers in John Murray's still life class. As my teacher hates the ubiquitous sunflowers, we usually end up with spider mums.  Aagh!  On Thursday night, when I saw him bringing in a bouquet of gorgeous flowers, including hydrangea, my heart skipped a beat.  He also got some apples, which seem to be the theme of this fall.  But as practice makes perfect, I am no longer disturbed by apples.  Bring them on!

I initially misread the color temperature of the hydrangea and blue cloth in the shadow by making them too warm.  The mid-class critique put me back on the right path.  Wow!  John said that "Hydrangea and Baby's Breath" was the best painting I have ever done in his class.  Of course, I've heard him saying that several times before.  Either I am in an upward spiral course of artistic growth, or he is a terrific morale rouser!

"Antique Teacup and Apples" (oil on linen; 12" x 12")

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Still life setup

Some days I can paint reasonably well; some other days, I can't paint at all.  Although it was only the third week of the term (I missed the first class), John Murray, who must have thought mighty high of our ability, arranged the above complicated setup last Thursday night!  It was awkward to paint just the elegant brass compote laden with red apples, or the dainty antique teacup and saucer, or the three fruits on the right.  Willy nilly, I ended up painting the entire setup despite my different intentions for this term.  Oy!

First of all, I couldn't mix the shadow colors of the apples, or any other colors for that matter.  I couldn't draw the teacup and saucer either.  The biggest problem was the composition.  The painting was so top-heavy that it was about to topple, figuratively speaking.  Eventually, John came to the rescue.  He worked on my painting for half an hour (!).  No, he didn't finish the painting for me; he showed me the way. 

Do you see how dark the teacup and light cloth are in the shadowed side?  How about the greens and purples in the apples!  When John first started putting down greens, blues, and what not into the apples, they looked like the poisoned apples the evil queen offered to Snow White.  "Apples for Snow White" was the first title I thought of for the painting!

On the following day I knocked down the shocking colors, while still maintaining the dark value in the shadows.  I worked on the painting to complete it, perhaps for three hours altogether, until the paints became too sticky.  What you don't know is that during the painting "session" I also went to my ice-skating lesson/practice and baked two batches of brownies for my daughter's marching band as well! 

A teacher once advised that one should not try to paint unless you have a block of painting time.  If I wait for such a block, I will probably paint two or three times a week instead of everyday.  I say PAINT WHENEVER YOU CAN!     

"Donut Break" (oil on stretched canvas; 12" x 16")

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Still life setup for "Doughnut Break"

"Blueberry Pie Party" (oil, 12" x 16")
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Last Thursday night, I was giddy with happiness.  I will tell you why.  In one of the last classes of the winter term, my teacher, John Murry, set up two very different still lifes: one with a blueberry pie and the other with donuts.  I got stuck with the pie, candles, and red colander and had to struggle with the painting, wondering why anybody would put a colander on a celebratory spread.  The lucky group with the donuts had fun, all producing expressive, yummy-looking paintings.  I was sore.

I had forgotten about the experience, having sold the blueberry painting and all, until I saw what John had brought for the class--donuts and more donuts!  He bought so many that he said the lady employee at the donut shop looked at him funny.  Well, we behaved and didn't touch any.  There were other things to eat after all.  The teacher kindly baked a peach cobbler for the class; a student brought a big bottle of wine and crackers.  It was the last class of the school year.  We have learned and grown much thanks to John.  Time to party!

"Donut Break" painted itself, really.  When you are excited about the subject, the hand holding a brush seems to dance on the canvas.  Look at the difference between the donut painting and the blueberry pie one.  The old painting appears restrained, whereas the new painting is brimming with expressive strokes.  The former looks correct, while the latter looks happy.  Which party would you rather go to?  Which dessert looks more appealing to you?  A donut, anyone?

"Still Life with Watermelon" (oil on stretched canvas; 18" x 18")

"Still Life with Watermelon"
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Still life setup

"Watermelon, Carrots, and Red Onions" (oil, 11" x 14")
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Do you see similarities between my latest still life and the one right above, which I painted in the winter term?  Exactly same choices of fruit and vegetables!  Even the same burlap on the table.  Obviously, my teacher,  John Murray, really likes the combination of shapes and colors. 

Last Thursday evening, he put a swirl of a watermelon, onions, carrots, small pots, and kitchen towel on a low platform so that we could look down and paint.   Look closely. You will find a full spectrum of colors--red, white, blue, yellow, orange, green, and purple.  Aha!  That is what he was after. I must say that it is one delicious still life!

"Still Life with Yellow Sand Pail" (oil on canvas; 14" x 18") sold

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Still life setup

Last Thursday evening, my still-life teacher, John Murray, decided to make us do a one-color exercise, the color of choice being yellow.  Since it is one of my favorite colors, I was initially happy with the day's challenge.  Unfortunately, I soon felt my enthusiasm dissipate, as I couldn't figure out what colors were the shadow side of the yellow bucket (I loved it though!), lemons, golden delicious apple, or bananas.

If you can name a color, you can mix it.  If it simply looks like a dull, darker version of the color in the light, you are in trouble.  Oy!  John eventually came around to the rescue.  He helped me with the bucket, which was giving me the most trouble.  The class turned out to be an exercise in humility.  I was perhaps becoming too confident as I breezed through the two previous classes.  John's mantra is: "paint as if you have never painted before."  Yes, sir!  I will do that from now on.

"Golden Delicious and Lemon" (oil on stretched linen; 14" x 18")

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Last night, I went to John Murray's still life class, feeling refreshed and ready to paint.  But I didn't like the setup John was arranging for my corner of the studio.  Red apples on yucky green fabrics--not my cup of tea.  I looked back to see the above setup, of which I forgot to take a picture.  Wow!  I persuaded two classmates to move a bit to make space for me.  John told us to wait for the night's lesson.  I couldn't.  I started painting right away.

By the time the teacher gave us the instructions (mass the apples in one color, then separate them into individual fruits), I was done blocking in my golden delicious.  John shook his head, saying something about "nobody listens to me."  Oops.  I was unstoppable, putting down one color after another, without hesitation.  He came around occasionally to help me modify small aspects of the setup to help the design.  Other than that, he loved the painting; so did I.  I was channeling Paul Cezanne, John's hero, for the first time in his class.  I was fearless.  The painting is not quite in my style, but who cares!

"Red, White and Blue" (oil on canvas; 12" x 16")

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Still life setup

I was already very tired when I went to John Murray's still life class on Thursday night.  I wasn't in the mood or shape to tackle a painting.  Not that the above setup was any more complicated than usual.  John generally starts a term with "easy" arrangements, then proceeds to increasingly challenging ones.  But when one is tired, with a decreased level of concentration, anything can be experienced as an insurmountable obstacle. 

Such was the case with the white porcelain tureen.  I didn't even try to emulate its vertical ridges; I couldn't get its relatively simple form right.  The shadows on the tureen were, of course, too purple, as you may remember that I have a violet tendency.  What about the blue drapery?  Yikes!  My painting was "relentlessly" blue, as my teacher said.  He told me to inject some warmth to the blues.  I came home exhausted, feeling quite middle-aged!

On Friday morning, still tired after a restless night, I attacked the painting to see it through.  I fixed the drawing of the tureen, made its shadows and reflected light in them more interesting, and did my utmost best to make the blues of the fabric warmer.  The red peppers and plum?  After all the trouble I've had with the rest of the painting, they were easy!

"Magnolia Season" (oil on linen; 10" x 8") sold

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Reference photo

As I mentioned the other day, I went to see what's happening at Green Spring Gardens Park on Tuesday afternoon in Alexandria, VA.  It was beautiful, so I went back on Thursday morning.  As spring is unfolding in a fast forward mode this year, I am trying to keep up.  The picture above was taken during my second visit.  I was both excited and nervous at the prospect of painting saucer magnolias.

"Whiff of Spring" (watercolor, 20" x 14")
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Why nervous?  Because I haven't painted them before in oil, although, as you can see above, I have tackled these flowers in watercolor in the past.  "Whiff of Spring" is dear to me, not just because it had received an award in a show.  It is subtle, geometric, and reminds me of the Italian painter Giorgio Morandi, who obsessively painted bottles all his life.  It was a class exercise with Deborah Ellis, who wanted her students to paint white paintings.

Having said all of that, I must also admit that "Whiff of Spring" has the pretentious, contrived look!  It is the kind of pompous paintings one may see in a museum.  (My apologies to dear Deborah, who is one of my favorite art teachers.)  These days, I would rather paint flowers in a garden, basking in the sun.  Honestly, which do you prefer, "Whiff of Spring" or "Magnolia Season"?

"Blueberry Pie Party" (oil on canvas; 12" x 16") sold

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Still life setup 

I am getting used to a complicated setup, so I wasn't flabbergasted at the above arrangement by my teacher John Murray in yesterday's class.  It was the presence of the red colander with the brass-knobbed lid that bothered me.  I knew that it belonged there for color.  But who puts a colander, pretty or not, in the middle of a setup, which is obviously celebratory!  Ah, perhaps it was used to drain blueberries.  In my painting I deliberately omitted its perforations.

There were other issues too.  John noticed that I put the still life too high in the picture again.  Why do I keep doing that?  I introduced a suggestion of the second vertical plane, which kind of helped.  Still I had a lot of empty square inches of foreground to deal with.  I added one more candle and moved the candles to point toward the subjects.  The way the white-handled knife was sitting on the small plate, pointing out of the picture, was troubling too, but it stayed there so that I would have seven, not six, candle-like objects.  Always go for the odd number.

Do you know what?  The biggest challenge actually had nothing to do with my painting.  John had set up another arrangement with yummy-looking donuts.  The students who chose to paint them were having such success that I was turning green with envy.  No awkward colander to worry about.  No empty foreground to struggle with.  Just fun and games.

Now as I look at the finished painting, I see an elegance in its scheme.  The painting is all about the three primary colors--red, blue, and yellow.  It isn't a fun, loud party we are looking at.  It is a quiet celebration of food and a shared life.

"Watermelon, Carrots, and Red Onions" (oil on linen; 11" x 14")

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Still life setup

My teacher, John Murray, decided to shake things up this week.  He apparently thought we were becoming lazy!  He put the table in the middle of the room and began to pull out one thing after another from a grocery bag until he came up with the above setup.  He asked us whether we would like to have a cut honey dew as well.  We said no!  We were looking down at the whole mess of things against whatever happened to be across the room from where we were standing.  Some students couldn't even see the beautiful red onions; others had a lot of the crumpled kitchen towel to deal with.

As you can see in my painting, I cut much of the towel.  Clever me!  I had other problems, such as the delicate leafage of the carrots and the papery skins of the onions.  What stumped me the most, however, was the color temperature.  Somehow I painted it too warm as if I was painting in sunset.  I had to cool it down and more. 

Although the setup was mainly illuminated by the artificial yellow light, there was also the cool natural light filtering through the blinds from the windows.  Because of the double light sources, some highlights were warm and others, cool.  Fascinating.  I don't know for sure what caused the cast shadows of the onions to turn green, but I painted it as I saw.  The more I paint, the more I realize that painting is really an exercise in seeing.  The weekly still life painting class has been one of the most valuable learning experiences.  More to come next week.  Yeah!

"Mums, Carnations, and Cherries" (oil on linen; 14" x 11") sold

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The still life setup for the painting

I was just getting used to painting fruits and vegetables in John Murray's still life class.  When I saw the above setup last Wednesday, my jaw dropped.  Oy!  How was I supposed to paint spider chrysanthemums (I have drawn them before with a great difficulty), carnations, cherries, a demitasse with saucer (another drawing challenge), and a clear carafe with stems showing through, for a good measure!  The composition was awkward too.  The mums were pretty much stacked together where I was standing.  I had to persuade a classmate to swap the easel spots with me. 

As you can see from the photo, I still didn't like the position of the demitasse, but couldn't possibly move it to my liking without getting thrown out by other classmates.  So I took an artistic license by moving it slightly to the left in my painting.  I did consider painting only the flowers, but rejected the idea.  Why?

John is an experienced still life painter, who knows what he is doing.  He brought three primary-colored objects (yellow carnations, blue cup and saucer, and red cherries) for this complicated setup.  I didn't understand his rationale behind the purple mums, which nonetheless contrasted with the light, yellowish neutral drapery.  There had to be a good reason for them.  I did get the dark blue kitchen towel on the table; it anchored the whole thing.  Look at the beautiful shadows and reflected light on the pale drapery--greens, violets, and even oranges.  Wow!  I would have never come up with the combination.  I had to paint the entire setup, not a portion of it, to do justice to John's vision.

John doing a long demo for the attentive class

Do you know what the biggest challenge was after I settled on the composition?  It was the colors of the mums.  I saw and painted them too cool; so did some other students.  The mums in John's demo painting were much warmer in temperature.  I had to steer them toward warm pinks, purples, and muted oranges.  I am constantly fascinated by how people perceive colors differently.  Perhaps, John's is right.  I have the violet tendency!

"Three Oranges and White Tureen" (oil on linen; 11" x 14") sold

"Three Oranges and White Tureen"
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"Yellow and Violet Still Life" (oil, 11" x 14")
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"Two Red Peppers" (oil, 11" x 14")
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"Red and Green Apples" (oil, 11" x 14")
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I am beginning to see the pattern in the still life setups by my teacher John Murray--the harmony created by complementary colors.  In the first class he gave us red and green apples with neutral draperies.  In the second week, he challenged us with the intensity of red bell peppers against two different shades of green cloths.  The third week's setup was all about the yellow/violet vibrations.  This week he not only baffled us with the orange/blue juxtaposition but also with the octagonal planes of the white tureen! 

His choice of draperies is deliberate.  They may someday come with stripes and all sorts of patterns and textures.  The white bowls, which are clearly included for their reflective qualities, are becoming more complex in their shapes; one even flaunts floral patterns. In the midst of the ever-mounting challenges of painting fruits, vegetables, and fabrics, we are also constantly reminded of the crucial importance of composition and paint application. 

We struggle valiantly to mix the right reds, blues, greens, oranges, violets, and yellows we see in the setups, and often end up with disgusting colors.  The prominent colors in "Three Oranges and White Tureen" are blues and oranges.  For whatever reason, my original color notes were oranges and violets.  John's comment was that I have the violet tendency!  I had to work hard to depurplize the violets and steer them toward blues.  We can, of course, ignore what we see and paint the way we like, as one student was doing with the extremely limited palette of only three colors, plus white.  Or, we can try to mix colors correctly.  Argh.  The vexing still lifes!

"Two Red Peppers" (oil on linen; 11" x 14") sold

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The still life setup

We don't often give ourselves and others enough time.  Enough time for sleeping; for eating (by doing other things like reading at the same time); for others to finish talking; or for painting.  We beat ourselves up, rush about, and get all stressed out as a result.  For instance, my still life class with John Murray on Wednesdays is always hectic.  Out of three hours, more than an hour is dedicated for the teacher's putting together three setups in a crowded studio, a quick demo, and a group critique. 

Instead of being disgusted with my painting as was by the end of the class, I decided to continue working on it at home with a photo of the setup.  I don't know whether it is cheating or not, but there was no reason whatsoever to get stressed out by the pressure of the limited time.  Painting is neither a race, nor a performance art.  It is a kind of meditation.  One is supposed to be truly present, mindful of the task at hand.  Unfortunately, I tend to paint fast and dash off one painting after another, quite a few of which turn out to be duds.  I am aware of my shortcomings and intend to work on them.

Anyhow, I am glad of my decision to take the above picture.  The drawing wasn't bad.  It was my initial treatment of the green and dark blue violet draperies that was problematic.  I had ignored all the folds and creases and had also made a straight "horizon" line where the fabrics met.  Dead boring!  The color of the green cloth was too warm; the brushstrokes were too grassy-looking.  I fixed the problems, as you can see.  I also worked some more on the peppers and bowl as well.  I am rather pleased with the final painting. 

The more I look at it, however, the more I see green and dark blue landscapes in the background.  The peppers and bowl look like huge objects lying on green fields, like Gulliver in the island country of Lilliput.  Perhaps I should stop meditating while painting by staring at my painting too long!

"Late Roses" (oil on linen; 10" x 8") sold

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I have been avoiding the reference photo for "Late Roses" since I took it last November.  I was into painting fall colors and snow scenes.  But there was another reason for my dillydallying.  It seemed like a lot of drawing to get the flowers right.  After the figure painting workshop last week, however, I suddenly felt like painting them. 

And I was right about my gut feeling.  Everything is relative.  Compared with the drawing and color mixing involved in a figure painting, it was nothing.  Of course, one has to get the gesture and color temperature of each flower just so.  But there is a lot more room for error in flower painting, to my relief.

I consider "Late Roses" a still life, although it wasn't set up on a table top, but in a natural setting.  An arrangement of a limited number of objects and a close look at them.  Isn't that a still life?  I suppose one could also call it an intimate landscape.

"Red and Green Apples" (oil, 11" x 14")
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Speaking of still lifes, I started taking a still life class with John Murray at the Art League School.  The first class met yesterday, during which I painted "Red and Green Apples."  Doesn't it look quite different from my usual stuff?  I loved the way John did the quick demo with a big brush, dipping into the huge piles of paints on his palette.  Bold colors and brushstrokes!  A great departure from what I experienced last week during the workshop with Stephen Early.  Check out his website to see his paintings, then you will know what I am wowing about.

John said, however, the same thing about the way I handled the shadows, as Stephen did, despite their different styles.  I see too many colors and end up fragmenting a dark value shape.  Interesting, isn't it?   Styles may vary, but the fundamentals in painting remain true.  I hope to learn much from my new teacher.  How exciting!

"Still Life with Anemones" (watercolor on paper; 10" x 18") sold

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I used to take a watercolor class with Deborah Ellis at the Art League School in Alexandria, VA.  She believed in painting from life, and set up several fabulous still lifes for her students to choose from every week.  As I switched to the opaque mediums, I don't get to see my favorite watercolor teacher any more regrettably.  "Still Life with Anemones" that I painted in her class has been hanging in my kitchen for several years.

What I like about this painting is its abstract quality.  The fluffy leaves and oval petals of the anemones break up the angularity of the vases and cloth folds, while light and dark tones criss-cross the picture plane.  Today's entry is dedicated to Deborah Ellis, a fun, kind, and cerebral individual.