Artist Daily : fantasy art

Nothing Too Extreme

Courtney Jordan — Wed, 23 Jan 2013 04:40:00 GMT

I don't usually think favorably of extreme ideas or extreme ways of doing things. Mostly, this is because I've found that sensible ideas often come with compromise. And in many ways, I think this applies to my ideas about fantasy art.

I love fantasy art, science fiction books, and imaginative storytelling and movies. But in certain crowds, fantasy pictures and sci-fi art get a bad reputation because they are so extreme. I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again: There is a way to temper realistic imagery with more fantastical images. Artists do it all the time.

Napoleon Leading the Army Over the Alps
by Kehinde Wiley, oil on canvas, 9' x 9', 2005.

Case in point: Kehinde Wiley. He is one of my favorite artists because he's so clever, taking historical visual tropes and combining them with contemporary figures or objects, often making a political point or referencing social issues. But the artist also manufactures an altered reality in his work. His "fantasy" art is decidedly of the here and now--there is no mistaking what Wiley represents as reality, which makes the work all the more interesting. He is elevating fantasy images by inflating them with big ideas and meanings, as well as playing with the idea of reality, fantasy, fact, and fiction.

I'm a sucker for an artist who plays by his or her own set of rules, and Wiley does just that. If you are interested in other great artists who steer their own visions and produce interesting work that just so happens to be part of the fantasy-art realm, look no farther than the American Artist fantasy-art issue and our Color & Light Premium Palette, which includes famed fantasy artist James Gurney's book on the subject. These resources can teach you how to build fantasy pictures from conception to execution, making it possible for you to take your ideas--no matter how out of this world--and make them into reality, at least on your painting surface. Enjoy!

What About Angels?

Courtney Jordan — Fri, 28 Dec 2012 04:50:00 GMT

I was doubly lucky last week because I had a thoughtful discussion with a great artist, Patricia Watwood, about how most notable representational art is "real" and about what happens to artists when they are faced with stepping outside that mold. For example, Watwood recently created a painting of an angel, and, leaving aside religiosity, we discussed how fun yet strange it was for her to figure out how to draw angel wings, of all things.


		Fallen Angel by Patricia Watwood, 2012, oil painting on linen, 30 x 30.

It made us both realize that there aren't many tried-and-true processes for painting and drawing images that are more fantasy art than not. Yet most people really respond to the genre--in movies, books, and, yes, art. Watwood, a well-respected oil painting artist who works extensively with visual allegory and symbolism, pointed out that sometimes painting objects or figures that aren't 100% "real" is liberating and necessary for her. The lure of this kind of image is that it allows her to articulate feelings and energy that realism alone isn't able to evoke.

Watwood is certainly not alone. Because "fantasy" images sometimes do a better job of conveying an artist's message than something concretely real, it's no surprise that artists have turned to fantasy pictures over the last few decades, but we should also remember that fantasy art is as old as art itself. After all, what is a mythological painting by Goya or an ancient sculpture like the Winged Victory of Samothrace, other than pure fantasy? And many fantasy pictures of yesteryear are the forefathers of today's comic books, blockbuster movie hits, bestselling books, and some really good art.

It's up to you to decide whether or not to paint angels, insects, people, landscapes, or anything else you fancy, but I do think that choice is yours and yours alone, and no one should feel like there is a dead end to their art because of the impasse between realism and their more imaginative ideas. And if you are curious about what is on that "other" side where representational art and realism part ways a bit, check out how masterfully James Gurney traverses this divide by blending aspects of realism and fantasy art in his book Color and Light: A Guide for the Realist Painter. Enjoy!

Do You Have Your Own Personal Symbolism?

Courtney Jordan — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 04:21:00 GMT

When you think about it, you probably have a personal symbolism—objects or colors or landscape features that hold special meaning for you. These ideas can develop from our personal experiences, our culture, or books we've read.


	In the comic book realm, straightforward symbolism is expected, but in fine art personal symbolism can lead to more creative narratives. (Thor by Lee Oaks, 2010)

For example, I associate a rich-colored green with well-being and positivity. And in my mind, drums mean movement and latent power. These are my personal ideas, and because of that they can be a powerful source for narrative. I point out the existence of personal symbolism because sometimes—in a lot of fantasy-art pictures, for example—symbolism tends to be less personal and more general and widely recognizable.

We all recognize fantasy images of superheroes, for instance, because they are the figures who are biggest, tallest, and strongest...and because they often wear a cape. These sorts of recognizable symbols have their place, but I think artists of fantasy pictures often do their work a disservice by being too didactic with their symbolism.


Pastel colors can convey a lightheartedness, as in this acrylic painting by John Harrell, titled Pastel Trolley.

But when you take inspiration from your own personal symbolism (a superhero in my mind could easily be represented by objects of teaching—a ruler, desk, or book), there is character and uniqueness to the choices you make, which put your work in a category all its own. So next time you are thinking of how to convey an idea or narrative in your work, reflect on symbols that hold a personal meaning, and I think you'll find the outcome rewarding and meaningful for you and your viewers.

Personal symbolism can come into play no matter what kind of painting or drawing you create, but most of all it raises our awareness about the many things that objects, colors, and textures can communicate to viewers, which every artist should try to be aware of. In the DVD Acrylic Painting: Scenes From the City, I discovered that using unexpected colors in a painting or depicting figures in an otherwise empty cityscape can have a great deal of impact. It's up to us to decide what our personal symbols are and how to apply them to get the effects we want in our artwork. John K. Harrell does that to great effect in Acrylic Painting: Scenes From the City, and it is a lesson worth learning. And because today is a very special day—12.12.12—we are offering 12 products for $12.12, including Scenes From the City. Enjoy!

Their Work Was Almost Pure Fantasy

Courtney Jordan — Fri, 02 Nov 2012 03:30:00 GMT

When I use the words "fantasy pictures," I'm usually referring to all sorts of imaginative realism--not only sci-fi art or wanting to know how to draw a dragon. But bringing in a layer of fantasy to your paintings or drawings can be daunting because you don't want it to be cheesy. If you want to look at a group of fantasy images that balance these elements perfectly, look no further than the Pre-Raphaelites.

Ophelia by John Everett Millais, 1851, oil on canvas.

The Pre-Raphaelite "brotherhood" (grrrrr!) was all about studying nature, often bringing in a spiritual or Romantic bent to their work, and avoiding muddy colors and "classical" compositions that were, in these artists' opinions, overused and uninspired. Instead, they used bold, undiluted colors on white canvas for rich effects, added a lot of detail and ornamentation to their work, and created incredibly complex compositions in their fantasy images.

Their subjects are inspired by stories--from Shakespeare, the bible, Romantic poetry--that we may be familiar with, but they are presented in such a way that the stories gain an otherworldly tinge. In the hands of John Everett Millais, Ophelia's drowning becomes a fantasy artwork of a frozen water nymph. We still get the reference to the Shakespeare play, but the painting takes on a life of its own and sets the scene in a completely different way.

Pia de' Tolomei by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1868-1880.

The fantasy art elements in Dante Gabriel Rossetti's work come through his use of objects that have layers of rich symbolism. La Pia de' Tolomei is a reference to the discovery of Pia in Dante's Purgatorio, and in the painting, Rossetti furthers his out-of-this-world narrative with images of birds, arrows, jewelry, a rosary and prayer book, Gothic architectural motifs, and more. It's a rich visual feast, and a painting that is steeped in fantasy art that simultaneously seems quite real.

That's exactly how I would approach including fantasy images in my work, too. Make them relevant to the story I want to tell but not overpowering. The Pre-Raphaelites have taught me this, and I've also learned a lot from the American Artist fantasy-art issue, which features so many works inspired by fantasy, just like the Pre-Raphaelites were.

Right now all of our digital art magazines and books are on sale, including the American Artist fantasy-art issue. It's a great resource if you want to enhance your work with narratives that aren't cut and dry "reality," and I for one love it. I hope you do, too! Enjoy!

A New Wave of Art

Courtney Jordan — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 03:05:00 GMT

Tricked ya! Sort of! On the one hand, fantasy art isn't that new at all. But as I was sitting in a meeting flipping through American Artist magazine's May 2012 issue--while still paying close attention to what was being said, of course!--I was struck by how much the lessons of imaginative realism play a part in the artwork that is being done here and now.

Marooned by Howard Pyle, oil on canvas, 1909.

When you think about it, fantasy art or sci-fi art is usually steeped in the narratives and stories that make our cultures rich--from mythology and mysticism to folk music and tall tales. The test is balancing these colorful influences with good taste and making sure your art isn't just illustrating the fantasy pictures that come into your head when you listen to or read these stories.


The Mermaid by Howard Pyle, oil on canvas, 1910.

Fantasy images created by the early American illustrator Howard Pyle are particularly good at showing this kind of balance, mostly because the artist edited the hell out of himself! Pyle was apparently ruthlessly reductive and always driven to have a "supreme moment" in each of his works.

He never hesitated to excise detail from his paintings, and this principle made a great impression on many of Pyle's students, including N.C. Wyeth, who must have taught his son Andrew much of the same. Andrew Wyeth believed that even after removing an image or detail from a painting, a phantom presence could remain, complicating the composition and still lending itself to the story unfolding on the oil painting canvas. That is complicated idea to wrap my head around, yet there's definitely truth to it.

If you want to check out the May 2012 issue of American Artist that I was looking at and that started this whole ball about fantasy art rolling in my head, it is just a click away. It is a complete guide to illustration and imaginative realism that could ignite a whole new way of working for you--an incredibly exciting prospect I'm sure! Enjoy!

You Be the Judge: Oil Painting or Plate of Food?

Courtney Jordan — Wed, 20 Jun 2012 03:48:00 GMT

Fantasy art guru and top-notch artist James Gurney is a font of knowledge when it comes to so many aspects of drawing and painting. Whether you are into fantasy images or tend toward more realist compositions, Gurney has techniques and methods dealing with color, light, and form that are invaluable. I love his blog as well and seek it out for inspiration on a regular basis. Here's one of my favorites posts involving the use of Google's "visually similar" search option. Enjoy!

*****

For the last couple of years, Google has had an image search option called "visually similar." This locates images that are related by their abstract qualities, rather than their associated keywords. For example, here's a painting from Dinotopia: Journey to Chandara called "Irish Elk," showing an extinct giant deer in a high mountain landscape. The colors are yellow ochres and browns, along with pale blues. There are no greens and hardly any reds.

Irish Elk by James Gurney

Google sifts through millions of images on the web searching for other pictures with related image attributes, and presents those that it finds "visually similar." In this case, the images all have the same basic color gamut, a cluster of warm colors combined with grays and blues. Presumably it selects other attributes, such as gradation, complexity, texture, and shape.

Results of the Visually Similar search on Google for Irish Elk.

What I found surprising was that, except for the helicopter and the dog, the results are all images of food. Why food ads? I'm guessing that the curving vignette shape surrounding the busy warm texture associated my picture with the curving shapes of plated food.

Here's a sketch that I did with marker pens, a high contrast rendering of a man at a podium. Google's search program yielded results with dark silhouettes (not surprising) but the subjects are mostly clothes that are symmetrical and laid out flat. I find this puzzling. Why clothes? Why symmetrical?


Pen sketch by James Gurney.		Results of the Visually Similar search on Google for my pen sketch.

Here's another of my Dinotopia fantasy paintings, a stone monument at dusk painted in brown tones with a golden sky behind and a few cool or gray notes for contrast. What did Google's algorithm sort out as similar? It pulled a lot of interior scenes and very few outdoor scenes or paintings for that matter. Perhaps the particular color ranges I chose for my gamut happen to match those of indoor photos with white balance problems.

Ebulon by James Gurney.

Results of the Visually Similar search on Google for Ebulon.

I find it fascinating that the results of these "visually similar" searches cluster around specific families of subject matter that are so different from the source image. And searching for visually similar images is a great way to see our own color schemes from a fresh perspective.

*****

Another way to reach a fresh perspective on color is with Gurney's book, Color and Light: A Guide for the Realist Painter, which has been a favorite of practitioners of art since it hit the shelves. I'm especially intrigued by Gurney's approach to "gamut mapping" and how to correctly choose colors for any given painting scene. It's a must for any artist wanting to bridge the gap between abstract theory and practical painting knowledge!

Not Just For Ink Blots Anymore

Courtney Jordan — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 03:47:00 GMT

Drawing with ink takes the precision of a master draftsman and the skill of a watercolorist handling a fluid medium. When I was in school I was completely captivated by the silky dark lines of one of the most famous pen and ink artists, Aubrey Beardsley, but there are several artists working today whose pen and ink drawing work deserves some attention, too.

Daniel Egneus is a Swedish illustrator who works with pen and ink drawing and watercolor. He's had widespread commercial success creating illustrations and designs for Haagen-Dasz, BMW, and Nike, among others, so you may be familiar with his drawings. And if you aren't you'll know them now by the way he contrasts slender line strokes and outlines with voluminous passages of dark ink. His drawings feel more like ink sketches, with marks that are not deliberate and end results that have an ease and flow to them. He's also got a playful side to him, turning a girl's ponytail into a small school of goldfish--and that's the kind of play that opens up one's creative mind.


Works by Daniel Egneus.

Matt Rota pursues his own fine art drawings while holding down freelance work for a variety of sources including the New York Times Op-Ed page. From images based on current news coverage to more inchoate narratives that lead to expansive ideas as you view them, my mind never shuts off when I look at his ink drawings. I'm always abuzz with ideas or fragmented thoughts, attesting to his strong compositional skills and his way of creating unconventional and sometimes alarming scenes that grab you with a strong image, but never run away with formal concerns. His work could never be described as "art for art's sake." Instead, the artist keeps any purely aesthetic impulse in check to visually whisper in your ear, though never giving away too much.


Works by Matt Rota.

I think of collapsing worlds and images when I look at the work of Minjae Lee. He's a young South Korean artist who uses color, pattern, and line to create images that read like slick ink paintings that combine fantasy imagery, typography, the human face, and more. His drawings are almost completely ornamental and the height of artifice, but my eye follows each line almost as if I was looking at a landscape painting--that is how engaging each passage of any one of his drawings is.


Works by Minjae Lee.

To see more artists whose drawing or painting styles set them apart, the Artist Daily Store is having a sale on American Artist, Drawing, and Watercolor magazines. In the 2009 Drawing Collection CD you'll find figure drawing expertise from Dan Gheno and James Langley, and the Winter 2007 issue of Watercolor has Yachiyo Beck's unusual still lifes--a study in contrast to be sure. So wait no more if you want an up-close look at these artists to learn how they do what they do so well. Now's the time! Enjoy!

P.S. What artists working with pen and ink do you admire? Leave a message and let me know.

Three Works of Art I Would Kill to Have

Courtney Jordan — Wed, 12 Oct 2011 03:32:00 GMT

It's not as if the wall space in my apartment is getting any bigger, but still, I'm always looking at works of art and murmuring, "I know just the place for you..." And for the past several years I've been particularly drawn to works on paper. The mark-making and drawing techniques used can be so unique from artist to artist. And when I look at drawings, I feel like I can relate to the artist and really understand how he or she works more than I sometimes can when looking at a finished painting. Here are a few of those drawings that inspire me and hold a place in my heart.

He was my first...

MC Escher was the first draftsman I remember being aware of as an artist. Obviously, I had seen other drawings before, but learning his name, and looking at a catalog of an artist's work—I'm pretty sure he was my first. And to a certain extent that is telling about what I hold dear in a drawing. As in Still Life with Street, I want to see something surprising and unusual in the drawings that I see, and Escher's work is definitely that. There is also his incredible command of the medium. I mean, in each of his drawings, every line looks so right. The drawing techniques he employs are incredibly well executed. He's moved beyond reality to draw things that are out of this world and can trick the eye. And his precision with his mark-making is extraordinary. The fact that this drawing is a woodcut—incredible!

Still Life with Street by MC Escher, 1937, woodcut drawing.

Just haunting...

The sensitivity and beauty of Female Nude with Green Shawl Seen from Behind takes my breath away. It is so quiet and introspective from a narrative standpoint, but I also just love the way the Käthe Kollwitz drew it. The deep luscious green of the wrap at the figure's hips, the warm shadows around her, the smudges of her vertebrae and shoulder blades, and the white highlight along her collarbone—it is mesmerizing how she created something so lovely using so few marks. And I'm especially haunted by the way Kollwitz shows light on the form. Haunted because the delicacy of the glints on the figure's shoulders and the sensitive line of light that brushes her right arm--I don't think I'll ever get there. But I'm grateful to have seen it!

Female Nude with Green Shawl Seen from Behind
by Käthe Kollwitz, lithograph drawing, 1903.

Black and white, meet kaleidoscope...

Charlotte Schulz is one of my favorite artists. The way she can use charcoal is so incredible. It is like she just breathes it on—the gradations from light to dark are that subtle. I also love the way she uses and even constructs the paper she draws on. The fact that she doesn't always create works that parallel, or are in any way hemmed in by the conventional four corners of a piece of paper is really powerful to me because it means that she is completely immersed in what she is drawing and doesn't let surface restrictions limit her work. If she wants something to jut off or fold away, she does it, even if it means altering her surface. And the way she merges different spaces together is mesmerizing and kaleidoscopic as they evolve into one another.

The uneven intensities of duration...by Charlotte Schulz, charcoal on paper, 2008-2010.

I love looking closely at drawings like these because it seems like the artists usually reveal something of themselves in them. Drawing magazine does the same thing—deep, thoughtful analysis of drawings and showcasing artists that I always seem to be surprised and intrigued by. Whether you want classical practice and drawing techniques or inspiration from the contemporary draftsmen and -women who are working today, Drawing brings them all to you (and you can get it all sent right to your computer via digital subscription, too). So you can start your drawing fantasy list, just like I have. Now if I can only get my hands on another few walls...

What did you think of my drawing choices? What drawings would you give pride of place on your walls? Leave a comment and let me know.

Painting Essentials: Color & Light from James Gurney

Courtney Jordan — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 03:46:00 GMT


Sunset over the Catskills by James Gurney, oil painting.

If I want to excel in my craft and become any kind of decent realist painter, the two aspects of oil painting that I need to focus on are color and light. Perfecting the two, together, will allow me to paint anything I want.

James Gurney is a plein air painter and the fantasy art author and illustrator of the book series, Dinotopia. His expertise with painting color and light is well known, and I've gleaned a few great tips from his book, Color and Light: A Guide for the Realist Painter, to share with you.

One important point is that overcast light is surprisingly ideal for painting because it reduces extreme contrasts of light and shadow. So when I look at a scene I can assess its true colors without any extreme contrasts of light and shade. And looking for this kind of lighting is a reward because colors also appear sharper, which means I can use more high-octane colors on canvas.

Local color, or the color of the surface of an object as it appears in white light, is key in almost every painting. The colors I mix will likely be to some degree made up of local color. Using that as a starting point, I can lighten or darken the color to model a form, add gray to create a sense of atmosphere, and bring in a different hue for reflected light.


	Millbrook Library by James Gurney, oil painting.

Green (one of my favorite colors!) is one of the toughest colors (boo!) to make work in a painting, which is surprising given how commonplace it is in our natural world. Gurney's tips for handling green include not using any greens from a tube, instead mixing them with several blues and yellows for weaker and more varied colors.

He also recommends using pinks and reddish grays with greens to make the colors pop, and varying the green mixtures based on the scale of an object.

I've got to tell you I'm a little bit in love with this book! Gurney is a whiz with so many painting techniques, and in Color and Light: A Guide for the Realist Painter he gives straightforward instruction that has helped me really understand and flesh-out my own painting process. This book is sure to be a faithful companion for me, and I hope you find Gurney's insights and tutelage as rewarding for you. Enjoy!

Drawing Lessons from Thomas Hart Benton

Courtney Jordan — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 04:38:00 GMT


Hollywood Note: Thursday Night at the ***-and-Bull, It's the Maid's Night Out by Thomas Hart Benton, 1937.

A few weeks ago, I left Manhattan and went to Manhattan—Kansas, that is. I was a bit wary as I landed in the midst of a harsh storm, but looked forward to seeing all the Midwest had to offer. During my trip I visited the Nelson-Atkins Museum, in Kansas City, Missouri, and rediscovered the work of Thomas Hart Benton, and realized there was a lot I hadn’t learned about the artist. I’d always thought of Benton as a muralist, but a docent informed me that most of the Regionalist artist’s work is rooted in drawings and pencil sketches.

In the late 1920s, Benton went on a six-month sketching tour across the country, where he found much of the subject matter that would provide the inspiration for the rest of his artistic career. He sketched the Ozark Mountains of Missouri, steel mills in Pittsburgh, lumber camps in the Appalachian Mountains, the New Orleans nightlife, riverboats along the Mississippi, Texas ranches and oil fields, and much more. What intrigues me is that Benton wasn’t sketching as a remote observer, simply passing through and ogling the locals. He connected with the people and places he met along the way, and drawing was a means of interacting just like sharing a meal.

I like Benton’s pencil sketches mostly because they are neither photorealistic nor pristinely finished. They are raw, done in the moment, and reflect Benton’s time with his subjects.


	Study for Farming, 1935.

Here’s what looking at Benton’s sketches has taught me:

-Benton knew how to sketch all the vibrancy and life he saw by freely moving objects around to create a dynamic composition, conflating figures and their gestures and movements.

-He moved around a scene, first sketching an overall view, and then drawing several close-ups—of figures, an interesting gesture, or the composition from a different angle.

- Benton’s career was steeped in the art of the political cartoon, and many of his drawings emphasize motions, a person’s features, and lines of perspective. He controlled his message with the exaggerations he chose to include.


Loading Cotton Onto the Tennessee Belle, 1928, graphite, pen-and-ink, and wash on paper, 10 x 14.

-There were different types of drawings for Benton. Some were life drawings, showing figures and landscapes. Compositional drawings were used to analyze the design of a work or how elements in a scene related to one another. Drawings were created before, during, and after a painting was created, and served to enrich even his large-scale murals.

Judy Martin’s book Mastering Sketching is a resource that teaches you to approach sketching the same way Benton did, as both a means of understanding his surroundings and as the basis for finished paintings.

For Benton, drawing wasn’t an art form that belonged behind glass in a frame. It was in his hands all the time; it was the workhorse and creative engine of his art. Learning how to sketch and how to utilize your sketches is really what sustains an artist. Mastering Sketching can help you on this path. It is filled with detailed tips and techniques and effective sketching demonstrations that allow you to explore your world through drawing, just like Benton did. Enjoy!

Draw on Tradition to Create Lasting Art

Courtney Jordan — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 03:16:00 GMT


Distlefink Girl by Christina Hess, digital.

I'm always surprised—and, okay, a little peeved—when my mention of an arts background is often met with a puzzled look followed by the somewhat skeptical question, "What do you do with that?" The truth is there's a lot to do with that, especially now—at a time when images are all around us, where a website can so easily turn into an artist's own gallery and exhibition space, and because collectors, gallerists, publishers, and fans can easily find and follow artists whose work they respond to and respect.

This sense of opportunity can be especially true for artists with a strong foundation in illustration and drawing. When I recently spoke with Richard Harrington, the chair of the Phillustration, The Philadelphia Sketch Club's annual juried illustration exhibition, he pointed out that those who submit to the show work in a variety of creative fields. "We get a lot of children's book illustrators, artists working in the fantasy realm, ones doing concept work for video games, magazine cover illustrators, those who do album cover designs, cartoonists, comic artists, accomplished painters," he said. "People cross over and work on many different projects—children's books to postage stamps to calendars." Harrington also mentioned that his former illustration students from Moore College of Art and Design, in Pennsylvania, have worked in as diverse fields as the film industry and prop houses, to the advertising and branding departments of companies such as Target.

What seems to be a common denominator for such successful draftsmen and illustrators is a strong grounding in the traditional arts. "Our students want to understand how to paint in oils; how to do life drawings, compositions; understand negative and positive space, and value structures," Harrington explained. If students are working with modern technology, time-honored artistic practices still hold a lot of appeal. "Even in the digital realm there's crossover to a lot of different mediums, which probably was not done so readily 10 or 15 years ago," Harrington said.


	1027 by Dominic Saponaro, digital.

Another change that was also not so apparent with illustration a decade or two ago is the changing status of the field. "There's a new respect for illustration and a renewed interest level," Harrington explained. "Not because of any kind of nostalgia, but because with illustrations, people know what it is about and because illustrations give viewers information they need, and no one needs to explain to them what it means. There's a certain comfort level there—not a 'fuzzy bunny' comfort, but a comfort in being entertained and stimulated."


Man Sleeping in the Temple by John Thompson, acrylic on wood panel.

That stimulation isn't always easy to evoke. As a society, we are pretty savvy viewers, inundated by images all day long. Most don't make any kind of lasting impression, but, obviously, some images stick with us. They evoke a response and we enjoy seeing them. Think of the last book you picked up from the shelf for no other reason than the cover appealed to you, or a billboard advertisement that made you pause mid-stride or slow down as you drove by.

"I was once told that the best painters are former illustrators," Harrington quipped. By that, he meant that an inherent part of an illustrator's training is learning to harness the communicative possibilities of visual media. Knowing that you can tell a story, create a mood, and make people react with images. All artists should be so lucky to have this kind of awareness. Coupled with honed traditional artistic abilities, this understanding allows art of any kind—created in oil paints or acrylics, mixed media or watercolor, sculpture or comic-book storyboards—to stay relevant and memorable.

To put your work well on the road to being relevant and memorable, a solid foundation in drawing is crucial. Artist Daily's new DVD, Mastering Portrait Drawing with Susan Lyon, is like taking a one-on-one drawing class with a modern master. You'll come away knowing how Lyon creates moving portraits while capturing the attention and stimulating the imagination of her viewer. Developing this skill set can allow you to communicate effectively with your work, sending out your own message for the world to see.

Paint the Human Body in Action

Courtney Jordan — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 03:22:00 GMT


Moving In by Steve Huston, 16 x 20, 2001. Courtesy Eleanor Ettinger Gallery.

Alaska-born artist Steven Huston knows that when there's no mammoth sports arena or cheering crowds, an athlete on the field of play can easily turn into an artist's ideal model. Even without motion, an athletic figure still possesses an interesting pose, physical awareness, and conceptual power of form. "I wrestled throughout junior high and boxed for a while, and I've always been interested in 'mano y mano' sports," the artist explains. "As a painter, I was drawn to the musculature and movement of the body in action. My style is pretty chunky and lends itself to the lumps and bumps of muscles. But I wanted a context for showing off the body, rather than simply objectifying the human form."


	Headlock by Steve Huston 36 x 48, oil on panel. Courtesy Scotia Gallery.


	Finding His Reach by Steve Huston, 24 x 24, 2009. Courtesy Eleanor Ettinger Gallery.

It took a bit of work to change his reputation from that of a well-known illustrator and focus on his newfound desire to paint. "Fantasy and sci-fi characters were what I knew, but I didn't want to be confused with an illustrator doing sports posters," Huston says. "I essentially merged the athletic body and the action figure instead of merely painting a nude guy on a couch, and I developed the subject matter conceptually and got the 'personality' out of it."

To that end, Huston consistently edits signifiers that could give too much literal detail to a painting. Instead of a boxing ring, for example, he situates his figures in undefined spaces or those that seem contradictory to the subject, such as a room with Romanesque architectural details or a cathedral-like atmosphere. He often hides the faces of his models and creates dramatic light effects in the style of Rembrandt.

Huston does not credit a successful painting with anatomical acuity alone. "A lot of realist painters get fixated too much on anatomy, but anatomy doesn't show you how to prioritize," he says. "Some muscles group with others; in other parts of the body one muscle might display itself more prominently than all the ones that are anatomically making the motion. The figure can't appear broken or held hostage by its own body-you've got to integrate and relate the parts to a greater whole. I've told students, you are not painting seven peaches and a pear; the point is to paint one still life. It is the same with the body's anatomy."

Huston stresses that each visual component incorporated into an artwork must relate to an artist's ultimate goal-what he or she want to accomplish on the large scale, as opposed to the small details that may appeal to the artist but don't necessarily aid in conveying the visual message to the viewer.

When it comes to painting the figure, artists should strive for an understanding of what goes on within the human body, because knowing what's happening below the surface enables you to render that surface more accurately. The instructional DVD Anatomy for Artists: Man in Motion explores the human body in action with detailed discussions of balance, movement, and the motion of major muscle groups. This firsthand knowledge can lead you to create figures that teem with life and realism, much like Huston's.

Art of Fresco Relies on Drawing Ability

Courtney Jordan — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 03:05:00 GMT

Seated Male Nude (study for The Martyrdom of St. Lawrence)
by Agnolo Bronzino, 1565-1569, black chalk, 13 x 18 1/4, corners cropped.
Collection The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, New York.

The Martyrdom of St. Lawrence
by Agnolo Bronzino, 1569, fresco.
Basilica di San Lorenzo, Florence, Italy.

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The preparatory sketch on the left was the basis for the figure in the bottom
right-hand corner of Bronzino's fresco depicting the martyrdom of St. Lawrence, at right.

“If the drawing is wrong, the fresco is wrong.” With that, master craftsman and fresco instructor Walter O’Neill began a fresco workshop that I attended a few weeks ago at the Morgan Library & Museum, in New York City. Fresco painting has become somewhat of a lost art over the centuries even though many great art masterpieces have been created in buon or “true” fresco, the painting technique in which pigments are dissolved in only water and painted directly onto a wet lime-plaster wall. As the wall dries, the chemical reaction between the plaster and the air allows the pigments to fuse directly into the wall. Leonard’s The Last Supper, Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel works, and Raphael’s School of Athens were all created in this manner.

O’Neill stressed that fresco work was time- and labor-intensive, and that a successful fresco painting began with a series of drawings. First the artist completed initial, exploratory drawings to work through multiple composition possibilities and figure arrangements. These would lead to a more developed set of sketches after the basic layout for the painting was solidified. Aspects of these drawings, from an entire grouping of figures to the most minute, particular gesture, would be combined to form the final compositional drawing. From here, the master artist would often assign a trusted apprentice the task of squaring the drawing for transfer. This process involved, literally, applying a square grid to the final drawing made by the master and creating larger drawings of each square in a consistent ratio, such as one foot per one inch, for example. The end result was a large-scale drawing, or cartoon, of the master’s finalized sketch.

All of the drawing phases that led to the final cartoon were subject to change, O’Neill noted. “A drawing was a working document or blueprint, and not for anyone else’s eyes. Changes could and would be made throughout the process as needed.” That’s because once pigment was applied to the wet plaster wall for the fresco, the time for deliberation and adjustments was over. There are no opportunities to undo mistakes when working in this particular medium, so the drawings an artist used—the reference he would consult when applying pigments freehand to the plaster wall, and the large-scale cartoons that would sometimes be applied directly to the wet plaster wall and traced—had to be correct in order for the artist to go forward with the painting.

I left the fresco workshop with the clear understanding that an artist’s greatest ally can be his or her drawing skills. The end result of the fresco process could indeed be a beautiful, moving painting, but what allowed an artist to create the final product was surety of line and a deft drawing ability. For a better understanding of how to sharpen your own drawing skills, and to see the strong draftsmanship of contemporary and historic masters alike, be sure to pick up Drawing magazine, available now.

The Importance of Getting Youth Involved in Art

Karyn — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 09:00:00 GMT

Last week I had the opportunity to get together with a handful of art-materials retailers from around the United States and Canada to discuss concerns about reaching the art-making world and to share what artists are purchasing and what materials they are shifting to. We discussed the recent survey that was co-produced by NAMTA (International Art Materials Trade Association) and American Artist this past spring. One of the biggest realizations prompted by this survey is the notion that people who practice art as their profession typically found their love for art before the age of 12. The numbers indicate that 63 percent of people who work professionally as an artist today got into art at a young age. This leaves me, along with the art-materials industry, wondering how we can encourage children and teenagers today to be interested in art. With the recession taking a toll on school art programs and on community and state grants for art, how can the passion for making art start in our younger generations?

Personally, I'm wondering how I can get involved in art making in my small town. Maybe it is going to start with the local art council, with teaching community classes after school, or with building relationships with local galleries to showcase young talent. It could also be about discovering what teenagers are involved in culturally. What can stir their interest in drawing with so much technology and widgets to distract them?

With so much focus on fantasy and sci-fi in movies, TV, comics, novels, and now graphic novels, it seems as though kids tend to take on those fantasical characters: vampires, dragons, beasts, superhuman heroes, etc. Artist Daily's part in the bridge between art and upcoming artists is to bring forward instruction and illustration that these young people might enjoy. NeonDragonart.com artist Jessica Peffer has been on this path for a while, providing instruction for anyone young or old who is interested in picking up skills drawing fantasy beasts. We've recently put some of her books, including DragonArt, on our website, and you can find out more about the content in our online store.

Regardless of how you reach out to those around you who are starting on their own artistic paths, the passion you carry as an artist for the art-making world will surely be catching. I'd be interested in hearing your ideas for the next generation of artists. Find me in our online forums, or reach me on Twitter @American_Artist.