The Watercolor Blog

Pigment Wonderland

2013-03-12T03:25:00Z

Is color important in a work of art? Most would say a loud yes! However, look at the wonderful work of the great, late artist, Andrew Wyeth. His Dad, the famous illustrator N.C. Wyeth, was often telling Andrew that he needed to put more color in his paintings. However, Andrew continued with his low-color paintings that have become a landmark in his beautiful work. The feeling that he puts into his work reaches out and grabs one's soul. So obviously, "color" is a personal matter.

Garden Pond by Robert Reynolds, 29 x 19, watercolor painting on paper.

For me, my interests in color have fluctuated over the years and my watercolor painting palette has changed in many ways during that time. For example, I used to include ivory black in my basic palette, but today I rarely use black mainly because it doesn't produce the lively shadow tones and low intensity colors that I now create with other pigments. I also rely less on earth colors such as burnt sienna and burnt umber, because they seem too "heavy" in capturing the light and the airy feelings of sky, clouds, fog and mist.


Forest Light/Big Sur by Robert Reynolds, 28 x 19, watercolor painting on paper.		Shallow Waters by Robert Reynolds, 29 x 19, watercolor painting on paper.

But I do love these pigments and use them quite often in my watercolor paintings, just not for atmospheric effects. In fact I've had the privilege of watching them being made during the two times that I visited the Windsor/Newton factory located in Harrow, London. If you are ever in London, take the tour of this famous fine arts paint factory. You will be in pigment wonderland!


My basic watercolor painting palette.

My basic watercolor palette adds up to about 15 colors, and I do add other colors when I feel the need to do so. But in general, whenever I paint, I simply try to be conscious of which colors are staining colors. For example, at one time I relied on a mixture of hooker's green dark and alizarin crimson when creating the effect of tree foliage. The interplay of both colors did create beautiful foliage. However, the colors seemed to lock themselves into the paper. It was difficult to remove the mixture colors from the paper, which I do quite often.

Because of this issue, I began to use mixtures of blues and yellows to create my own greens. On the whole, however, there's no reason to avoid staining colors. They pose no insurmountable difficulties for experienced watercolorists and can be quite useful when an area needs to be glazed with a second color without lifting the first color in the process. Quite often, for example, I'll use alizarin crimson as a glazing color to unify a number of elements in my works. More soon,

Robert

Watercolor: Bold Colors and Broken Lines: The Freedom of Gouache

2009-03-02T14:13:00Z

Painting gouache on Arches black cover stock opens up a wide array of creative possibilities.

by Stephanie Kaplan

Self-portrait
2006, gouache,
20 x 15.
All artwork
this article
collection
the artist.

Brenda Turner has a unique take on gouache technique. After working with transparent watercolor for years, Turner made the switch to using gouache once she experimented with it in a workshop. She subsequently began painting on Arches black cover stock and received extremely positive feedback. With this success in hand, Turner knew she had discovered an exciting method for creating dynamic compositions with bold colors.

Turner compares gouache to watercolor when she explains that although “watercolor can be really sensitive and lovely, gouache is bolder.” Using gouache is a more direct process because it allows the artist to put down a color and then lift it, if needed, without significantly altering the painting. In contrast, successful watercolor technique often relies on applying many layers of color, and muddying colors is a constant concern—transparent watercolors cannot be lifted easily without significantly altering the painting.

Turner usually makes her initial drawing with a white pencil on a sheet of Arches black cover stock. She loves to draw, and her paintings possess a linear quality. “I’m quite centered in draftsmanship,” the artist explains. “I like lines that are interesting and broken, and that occurs when I redraw with a round sable brush because its stroke is irregular.” Notice, for example, how Turner uses lines to sharpen the composition in a James, and how the horizontal lines on his shirt add texture and a linear sensibility to the painting. The artist also uses line to create bold wisps of hair in Self-portrait. Turner uses flat, synthetic brushes to make short, choppy strokes, but also enjoys using bristle brushes for larger areas.

Because the black cover stock provides a dark background for the paintings, the gouache colors pack a powerful punch when painted on top, as illustrated in Self-portrait. The richness in the colors “is similar to oil,” Turner explains, “and the dark background holds the painting together.”


Flag Day 2003, gouache, 30 x 22.	City Market-West 2006, gouache, 22 x 30.	Interior Light 2003, gouache, 14 x 14.	James 2005, gouache, 22 x 30.

Turner confesses that she paints loosely with gouache on black cover stock because “I want some quirkiness in the painting.” This “quirkiness” translates into unique compositions—complete with the bold colors and fragmented lines that make the artist’s style completely her own.

The Catch
2003, gouache,
26 x 28.

About the Artist
Brenda Turner earned both a B.A. and an M.A. from the University of Iowa, in Iowa City, and she taught art in public schools and community colleges in Iowa and Illinois. Her paintings have been included in many juried exhibitions, including those organized by the Iowa Watercolor Society (Best of Show, 2004), the Georgia Watercolor Society, and the Northwest Watercolor Society; and she has earned signature membership in the Colorado Watercolor Society, the Georgia Watercolor Society, and the Iowa Watercolor Society. Contact Turner for more information.

Stephanie Kaplan in the online editor of American Artist.

Watercolor: Looking at Watercolors: "Fairylands, Bermuda" by Ross Sterling Turner

2008-10-23T11:40:00Z

James Toogood comments on Ross Sterling Turner's watercolor painting Fairylands, Bermuda.

Fairylands, Bermuda
by Ross Sterling Turner, 1890,
watercolor and gouache, 18 x 25 1/2.

by James Toogood

What's most interesting about this painting is the types of marks Turner made—there's a lot of action in them. The marks are almost frenetic at times, but I think they are extremely effective—each is purposeful and elegant. Even the water shows a lot of activity—if he had made it more placid, it would have been out of sync with the other parts of the painting. Note how he used brushmarks to describe the various planes, such as where the shore is rising up from the water. Also, see how the direction of the marks indicate the shape of the foliage.

Turner has effectively implied atmospheric perspective here. The soft grays and almost mauve-ish colors on the far left push that area back, and he reserved his cleanest colors for the foreground. You get a nice sense of that large palm tree behind the other palm, achieved by painting the back palm substantially lighter. However, the palms behind the house on the right are fairly dark—logic says the palms by the water's edge nearer us on the left would have more contrast, yet Turner has indicated the opposite in this painting. It works—he gave the trees in the middle ground deeper value for more prominence, and if he had faded them and made them lighter, it would have taken away the balance in the composition.

The sky color is the tone of the paper, with a few areas of pigment flooded in, plus a touch of white paint above the palm trees. In fact, there's a liberal mixture of traditional watercolor and bodycolor throughout Turner's painting. In some instances, he may have used store-bought gouache, and in other places, he might have mixed white with watercolor colors to make bodycolor. Clearly, the two figures and the pink flower are bodycolor. In fact, if you look carefully, you can see that he went back into those pink flowers added more of a cadmium yellow-viridian-Chinese white mixture on top of them. Near the center of the composition, that patch of bright green almost below the window of the house is painted in bodycolor--probably viridian mixed with Chinese white. The same mixture, but with more viridian, fills the window. Then Turner helps tie it all in with a strong gouache on the roof. This ably gives a sense of the light in Bermuda—even on an overcast day, the light is still strong and there's sharp contrast.

New Jersey resident James Toogood AWS/NWS studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, in Philadelphia. The subject of more than 40 solo exhibitions, he has participated in numerous group shows, including those of the American Watercolor Society and the National Academy of Design, winning many awards. He frequently juries exhibitions and was an awards juror for the 2006 American Watercolor Society annual. Toogood is the author of Incredible Light and Texture in Watercolor, (North Light Books, West Chester, Ohio) and he has written many articles and contributed to several other books. His work is widely collected throughout the United States and abroad, and he is represented by Rosenfeld Gallery, in Philadelphia. The artist teaches at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, the National Academy School of Fine Arts, in New York City, and the Perkins Center for the Arts, in Moorestown, New Jersey. Toogood also conducts watercolor workshops throughout the United States.

Watercolor: Back to Watercolor Basics

2008-09-18T10:00:00Z

Connecticut artist John Falato primarily paints in oil, but he also enjoys introducing students to the nuts and bolts of watercolor in his exciting, fast-paced beginner classes.

August Road
1983, watercolor, 21 1/8 x 16.
All artwork this article
private collection
unless otherwise indicated.

by John A. Parks

John Falato is a painter of breathtaking range and control. His landscapes are wonders of beautifully modulated light, sumptuous color, and a vast wealth of visual information. His control extends to every challenge in representational painting: the turning of forms, the subtle nuances of color, the rendering of textures and translucencies, the play of air, shifting skies, running water, and open seas. For a painter of such command, the idea of teaching a beginner watercolor class might seem somewhat less than exciting, but this is not so for Falato. Working with his students at Paier College of Art, in Hamden, Connecticut, he brought to the basics of watercolor a passion and energy that soon had a room full of novices excited and interested—and not without reason. Falato quickly demonstrated that the ability to use the very basic vocabulary of watercolor is crucial to creating high-quality work.

The artist-instructor has been teaching watercolor for more than 20 years, and in the beginning of his career he preferred the medium for his own paintings. However, after several years of painting in watercolor, Falato discovered that his watercolor technique could be used in oil painting and yield dazzling results. His watercolors deftly combine a fresh, clear application of paint with very fine control. This command of technique allows him to secure a wealth of detail while keeping the painting from feeling overworked. The glittering transparency of watercolor is at work even in the most meticulously detailed passages. “I was amazed when I learned the same approach could be used in oil,” says the artist. “I don’t use any underpainting in my oil work; I simply begin with a careful drawing and then start to brush in areas of value, often working wet-in-wet. I work from light to dark just as I do in watercolor, starting with the very lightest values and gradually proceeding to the darkest.”

Falato experimented with a
student’s brush as he
attempted a graduated wash.
The instructor pointed out
that brushes should have some
spring to them and should
be capable of holding a
lot of water.

Falato teaches students these techniques mostly through demonstrations. “I always spend time showing various drawing and painting techniques and procedures,” he says. “Here, the emphasis is on the distinctive capabilities of different tools and media, and on the expressive possibilities of the materials themselves.” From the beginning, Falato emphasizes the importance of preparation, using his own work area as an example. During this class he laid out two palettes—one for gouaches and one for watercolors—two large plastic containers for water, and three small plastic cups for mixing washes. Another cup held an array of brushes ranging from sable rounds and large squirrel flats to stubby bristles and fluffy brushes for mopping up. Other supplies included a pump spray bottle, a small sponge, tissues, paper towels, and a drawing board with a sheet of Arches watercolor paper.

Falato began the day’s lesson by demonstrating how to make a flat, even wash, using a large squirrel flat brush. “It is important to have plenty of paint in the brush,” he explained, “and then to begin with a fairly light touch, setting up a bead of paint on the paper. If you press too hard at first, then there will be too much paint too soon. The idea is to keep the bead going as you move across and down the paper. Press the brush evenly to extend the wet area and maintain a consistent coverage.” Students experimented with this approach for a while on their own drawing boards before proceeding to the next step, a graduated wash. This involved the same process, but involved the addition of a second color halfway down the area of the wash. The instructor used this moment to discuss one of the basic challenges of watercolor: the problem of going too dark too soon. “If you overshoot a value and go too dark there isn’t a whole lot you can do,” he said. “Although you don’t want to be too tentative or timid, it’s still better to understate a dark because you can always go back and darken it with another wash.” Falato also pointed out some of the challenges of correction when putting down a wash. “If you accidentally leave a little gap, don’t go back and paint over it,” he told the class. “That creates all kinds of problems. Leave it alone until it is thoroughly dry, and then if you really need to correct it, come back with a very tiny brush and perhaps even use a magnifying glass to fix it on a small scale.”

Caretaker’s Cottage
1984, watercolor, 10 x 16.

While students were trying out their washes, Falato moved around the room giving advice and trying out for himself some of the great variety of brushes that the students were using. “You need a brush that has some spring and will hold a good amount of paint,” he said. The artist prefers Winsor & Newton Series 7 sables when working in both oil and watercolor. As he watched them work, he would occasionally declare a brush unfit for the task. “Don’t get rid of it though,” Palato advised. “If a brush isn’t good for one task you can often find another task that it is good for.” The instructor also observed that sometimes a brush seems to work for a particular individual even when most artists can’t make it behave in the same way. “Making art can get very personal,” he said. “Everybody’s touch is different.”

The next exercise taught students to paint a wash around a group of shapes. In his example, Falato made a simple drawing and began washing color in the background. He first turned the paper upside down to avoid having paint drip toward the shapes he had drawn. “Again, you have to create a bead of paint and then keep it going as best you can as you push it around the objects,” he reiterated. “You’ve got to keep working wet-in-wet when you reload the brush. Sometimes, in a job like this, you might use two brushes, one to get into the detail of the edge and the other to work on larger areas.” The artist pointed out that a wash can be any size, from a tiny area to a very large area. “It’s very important to have the appropriately sized brush for the wash,” the artist said.

A group of washes shows
different ways of working
with water. On the right-
hand side washes are being
flooded onto a wet surface.
On the upper left, shapes
have been made on a wet
surface and allowed to dry.
On the lower left, shapes
have been made on a wet
surface and then edges further
softened by brushing.

Once students tried painting around shapes, Falato demonstrated how to create soft edges in watercolor when the paint has dried. “It’s important to work on a wet surface to achieve a soft edge,” he explained. A dry painted surface can be wetted with a brush, a sponge, or a spray. Often the spray bottle is the most effective, as it doesn’t lift up color from underneath. Falato demonstrated making shapes on an area of moistened paper, creating soft edges all around. “You can go back and soften an edge further by running a brush through it,” he told the artists, “but it’s important just to do it once. You don’t want to keep going back and working across an edge because it’s soon going to start looking overworked. The temptation is to keep going—but don’t.” Falato observed that the edges continue to blend and settle as the paint dries and that the final results are often better than they first appear.

The artist pointed out that the technique of wetting the paper first and then washing into it to create soft edges can be combined with the other wash techniques that the students had learned earlier in the day. “You can come back to a dry wash, wet it, and then add more color,” he said. “This is a good technique in a situation where you want to build a shadow and need soft edges.” Throughout the day Falato encouraged his students to take note of chance effects in the watercolor that reminded them of real-life situations. He noted that it’s important to begin making connections between what the paint can do and how the world actually appears. “This is the side that’s actually in you creatively,” the instructor stated. “And it’s important to work on that too. You have to utilize the spontaneity of watercolor.” As he moved around the class Falato was quick to provide the students with little corrections on the way they were holding a brush, their posture, or the way they had their materials laid out. “It’s like being a batting coach in baseball,” he said. “You’re just checking to make sure that people have the best form and stance to make things work well.”

Mudflats View
1997, watercolor, 8 x 12.

The next part of the class concentrated on using gouache with watercolor, and Falato explained that some watercolorists use a little white gouache in many of their washes to create a kind of ‘milky’ atmospheric effect. The artist himself demonstrated an approach where he ran a thin wash of white gouache over a watercolor wash to create a misty or hazy effect. The gouache dried to a surprisingly even veil on the watercolor paper, an effect that can be particularly useful in the painting of skies.

The last part of the session addressed the various techniques for lifting watercolor from the paper. Falato was quick to point out that such techniques are not only corrective but can also be used to obtain a wide array of effects. The first technique involved using a piece of paper towel rolled up to a point. The instructor put down a wash of gray-blue and then used his paper towel to lift up the paint while it was still wet, creating a set of scalloped shapes that quickly began to resemble waves at sea. He pointed out that the longer the wash had been left to settle, the less paint was picked up. By waiting a few seconds between strokes, he was able to obtain a graduated series of values in the marks he made. “This can all get very tricky, and you have to remember that a technique is only a technique—it will only get you so far.”

The artist looked over a
sheet of student washes, some
graduated and some even. In
his beginner classes Falato
stresses the importance of
applying the brush with a light,
even pressure. The idea is to
create a bead of paint and
keep it moving across
the surface.

Lifting up dry watercolor involves different techniques. “You can use a razor blade to scrape, or even the sharpened back end of a brush,” said Falato. The artist went on to demonstrate another technique using a very stubby bristle brush. He made an area of dark wash, allowed it to dry, and then scrubbed at it with the bristle brush. The paint lifted with the action of the brush to create a roughly blurred white shape. Falato demonstrated how such an approach can be combined with other scratch marks in the paint to create a variety of textures. When discussing his approach, he explained that he also employs these techniques when working in oil. Comparing his watercolor August Road to his oil painting Park Whispers [not shown], the artist recalls that the foliage was created in an almost identical fashion in both paintings. “I used a round with a splayed end to create texture in the foliage,” he says. “In some areas I put down a transparent wash and then built into it with an array of textured marks, gradually working darker.” The artist sometimes augments this technique by scratching back into the painting with the back of the brush to create lighter touches of texture.

“I hope that students begin to make connections between their media, the materials used, and their subject matter and images,” Falato said when discussing the goal of his class. Throughout the day he referred to a number of books on his desk that contained reproductions of work by many great watercolorists. “It’s vitally important for students to be aware of the art around them, and of the many artists, living and dead, from whom they can draw energy and inspiration,” he stated. “As they work and develop their craft and ideas, this awareness aids in the building of their own style and way of doing things.”

The artist turned the board
upside down while working
this pink wash against the
shape of a skyline. This
prevented paint from dripping
into the shape and allowed
Falato to work more easily
into the corners.

In this way Falato leads by example in his application of watercolor-painting techniques when working in oil. “The main difference between my oil and watercolor techniques occurs when painting open and flatter areas, such as the sky,” the artist explains. “In the oils I use thick paint for these areas, shoveling it on quickly with a bristle brush and then using a fan brush to paint it out smoothly. In the watercolors I naturally use a wash.” Falato likes to introduce his students to his watercolor-based oil technique by having them do a side-by-side painting in both media at the end of his course. Although teaching beginners can be challenging, the upside, he says, is that in constantly returning to basic principles and techniques, he is reminded that they form the bedrock of all good painting, regardless of the medium.

The intensity of both Falato’s watercolors and oils are further aided by his choice of subject matter. “My work is based on a desire to describe a subject realistically in all its details of form, space, color, and surface texture,” he concludes. “I paint familiar places and things that I have experienced intimately. The attending memories, childhood impressions, and associations are what I respond to. This is what has meaning for me, and this is what I value as a painter.”

About the Artist
John Falato grew up in Connecticut and initially planned to study engineering, but quickly changed his mind after his first visit to an art school. “Just the smell of charcoal and oil paint was wonderful,” he says. He studied at Paier College of Art, in Hamden, Connecticut, and planned to become an illustrator. “I wanted to be Norman Rockwell,” says the artist, who admits that he took up smoking a pipe to be more like his hero. Falato moved to New York to work as a sketch artist in an advertising agency. Although his drawing skills earned him a good living he felt that he wanted to be more involved in making his own art. He went back to school and earned a B.F.A from the University of Hartford, in Connecticut. Since the late 1960s he has combined various teaching posts with his work as a professional artist. In 1985 Falato returned to teach at his alma mater, Paier College of Art, now housed in a larger modern building on the outskirts of New Haven. He is represented by the Fischbach Gallery, in New York City, and the Greene Art Gallery, in Guilford, Connecticut.

John A. Parks is an artist who is represented by Allan Stone Gallery, in New York City. He is also a teacher at the School of Visual Arts, in New York City, and is a frequent contributor to American Artist, Drawing, Watercolor, and Workshop magazines.

Watercolor: National Watercolor Society Annual Exhibition

2008-09-15T10:00:00Z

The 88th Annual Exhibition of the National Watercolor Society is on view through November 1 at the Riverside Art Museum, in Riverside, California. The opening reception and awards luncheon is scheduled for September 13. Among the award winners are Soon Y. Warren, winner of the society’s purchase prize for Feeding Time; Robbie Laird, who won the Loa Ruth Sprung Award for Tidal Triangle; and Richard Hanson, who won the Jack Richeson & Co. Purchase Award for Contemplating Reality. As part of the exhibition events, three nationally known instructors—Carla O’Connor, Cheng Khee-Chee, and Dale Laitinen—will offer demonstrations beginning September 14.

Visit the NWS’s new website for more information: www.nationalwatercolorsociety.org.


Contemplating Reality by Richard Hanson, watercolor, 17 x 18. Winner of the Jack Richeson & Co. Purchase Award.	Feeding Time by Soon Y. Warren, watercolor, 30 x 22. Winner of the NWS Purchase Prize.	Tidal Triangle by Robbie Laird, watercolor, 15 x 15. Winner of the Loa Ruth Sprung Award.

Watercolor: A Bold Approach

2008-09-12T10:00:00Z

When Chris Krupinski made the transition from oil to watercolor painting, she refused to sacrifice her love of detail and bold, rich color.

A Glass of Cherries
2004, watercolor, 30 x 22.
All artwork this article
collection the artist.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Virginia artist Chris Krupinski didn’t plan on becoming a watercolorist. She had tried several media, but preferred oil for the rich color and detail she could create. “I stayed away from watercolor because I didn’t like that wishy-washy look,” the artist recalls. “But after my children were born, I needed to work in a medium that was easy to clean up and safe. Watercolor fit the criteria, so I decided to give it a try.” The artist’s early paintings were “unsuccessful,” she says, but she soon learned by trial and error to alter her approach to fit her new medium. “When I started, I was painting with watercolor as I would with oil, and my colors ended up so muddy,” Krupinski explains. “My father-in-law was a watercolorist, and he showed me how to build up layers to create rich colors.”

From then on, the artist began honing her skills in the medium. Although she recognized the importance of attending workshops, Krupinski preferred to teach herself. “About 20 years ago I made a commitment to growing and evolving as an artist, and I wanted to reach a professional level,” she says. “But I knew I couldn’t reach that level if I only painted sporadically. I vowed to paint for at least two hours every day, and I still do. Even on Christmas and Easter, I take out my paints and make sure to work. I really do believe the best teacher you can have is yourself.”

When she felt she’d reached a skill level she was proud of, Krupinski began doing commissioned work for local businesses and found that her dream of making a living as an artist wasn’t all she’d hoped. “I was doing landscapes, old-town buildings, and some figures,” she says. “I got a lot of work, but I was painting out of someone else’s head, doing what they wanted. I didn’t have time to make any of my own art, and I started to burn out.” With a background in graphic design, Krupinski decided to go back to school, and she opened her own graphic-design company shortly thereafter. As a freelance graphic designer, she found she was able to support her family and have the flexibility to create her own paintings.

Apples & Jefferson Cups on a Quilt
2008, watercolor, 22 x 30.

During this time she also discovered a passion for painting still lifes, which she nurtures to this day. As with her career choice as a designer, still life allows her the flexibility to make her own decisions. “When painting an old building or a landscape, I would paint each brick and each leaf. I had to stick with what was in front of me,” she explains. “With a still life it doesn’t matter if the fruit I paint is a little bit smaller or larger than what is actually in front of me—the fruit is an element that I’m adding to the overall design. When I look at a still life, I see shapes and colors and design. I don’t think about the individual pieces of fruit.”

Krupinski’s preference for flexibility extends to her process of setting up and arranging her still lifes. “I just drop the things on the table or quilt. I avoid a meticulous arrangement,” she says. She then walks around the subject, looking at it from different angles and taking digital photos. “If you’re patient enough and look at your subject long enough, you’ll be able to find a nice composition,” she asserts. “It just takes patience.” She prefers to set up her still life when it can catch the warm early-morning or early-evening light that pours in through the windows, because it creates long shadows. The artist estimates that she takes upward of 50 photos of a setup, but she does not choose her composition until many days later. “After looking at a subject for so long, I need a break,” she confesses. “Maybe a week after taking the pictures I’ll pull them out again and sort through them until I find one that really speaks to me.”

Apples, Stripes, and Jar
2008, watercolor, 30 x 22.

She begins with a light sketch of her subject on 300-lb rough Arches watercolor paper, which she favors for its ability to withstand heavy pressure. “When I started painting on rough paper I fell in love with it immediately,” Krupinski recalls. “Because I love painting details, it can be tempting to render everything exactly, and risk it looking almost plastic, but the roughness of the paper forced me to go with the paint. It’s also great for creating drybrush effects, and it gives me room for rubbing, scratching, and other textures.” The artist paints wet on dry paper, which allows her the control to paint the details she enjoys so much. She applies a lot of paint, using tissues to blot as necessary. “Not only does blotting excess or highlights control the value but it also gives the painting a nice texture,” she explains.

After drawing a light outline, the artist begins with her focal point—usually the pieces of fruit or vegetables and the fabric surrounding it. “I paint this area to completion. I don’t paint all over,” she says. “Maybe it’s because my thought process doesn’t allow it. I focus on one area at a time and move outward, totally completing each area as I move around the paper.” If her focal point is a piece of fruit, she always begins with a layer of yellow (often new gamboge), and blots it to create the highlight. She does this because in all of her paintings, she uses violet (a mixture of French ultramarine and permanent alizarin crimson) for her shadows. “By putting a layer of yellow on the fruit, I’m adding warmth and creating a complement to the violet,” Krupinski explains. “I tend to use bold colors, and by creating a yellow underlayer, I can pick out my highlights without showing the stark-white of the paper.” The artist then works to soften the edges of the fruits and fabric by adding water to the hard edges, or by pulling dark color over a hard edge and blending it into the background. This ensures that the painting is cohesive and elements don’t look like they’ve been cut and pasted onto the paper.

Apples, Jar, and Quilt
2005, watercolor, 30 x 22.

After her focal point is completed, the artist moves on to her fabric, often quilts she has in her home. “I first go in and position the mass areas of shadow using my violet mixture,” she says. “I don’t block them in as dark as they actually are, but I just position them.” The pattern of the cloth is painted last so that the colors stay vibrant and aren’t disturbed by the addition of a layer of shadow. Although she paints from photographs, Krupinski keeps the quilts on hand as she works so that she can have a sense of the true color.

Throughout the painting process the artist adheres to the abstract design elements that initially attracted her to the subject and does not let herself become confined by color choices. “Nothing has to be the real color,” she asserts. “If my grapes are a bit bluer or more yellow than normal, the viewer will still know what they are if all the colors go well together.” For this reason Krupinski uses a limited palette, a collection of seven colors that she developed over years. Working with a limited palette ensures that there is a consistency to the painting, and even when she places her fruit on a patchwork quilt, she makes sure the few colors she adds to paint the quilt do not detract from her focal point. The artist works on each square separately, treating it as though it were an individual painting. “I want there to be hard edges on the quilt because I want to give that appearance of the fabric being sewn together,” she describes. “If I work on the area as a whole I won’t be able to accurately render the seams. As I work on each section, I paint in the small shadows that indicate tucks and seams in the fabric so that I can capture the softness and puffiness of the quilt.” The artist prefers to work with a small brush (size 1 or 2) because she feels it gives her “ultimate control.” After painting her quilt, she then adds a black background (a mixture of Winsor green and alizarin crimson), which she feels allows her rich layers of color to really pop. “The black background is the most exciting part,” Krupinski adds. “It’s amazing how the contrast makes the colors sing.”

Cooking With Wine
2007, watercolor, 30 x 22.

Krupinski’s still lifes can take anywhere from several days to several weeks to complete, depending on her schedule. She often paints at the end of the workday, making sure to get in those two hours she’s promised herself. “Painting is my therapy,” she says. “If it’s been a tough day, or I’ve been dealing with difficult clients, I can take out my watercolors and forget about my problems. I can’t paint when I am not motivated. But often, once I start going, I can’t stop.”

Krupinski firmly believes that the key to her improvement as a watercolorist was her diligence when it came to making time for her art each day. “The idea of talent is really kind of vague,” she muses. “My hand doesn’t move any differently than anyone else’s—what separates me from other artists is my vision. The rest of it is all hard work. I don’t think you can really pick up another person’s style—you just create and enhance your own by painting all the time. You have to be disciplined and motivated to ensure self-improvement.” The artist also stresses the importance of experimentation, especially for those who are coming to watercolor from another medium. Although she never attended workshops, exploring all the possibilities of watercolor helped her find the tools and techniques that best fit her style. “When you attend a workshop, you often get a list of colors and tools to use, and sometimes even a list of books to read,” she notes. “That would have fenced me in, and it would have taken a lot longer for me to find the palette and materials that suited me.”

Early in her career as a watercolorist Krupinski entered her work in juried shows, and she advises other artists to do the same, even if they may be intimidated. “Entering shows is a good way to judge your progress,” she says. “If you’re accepted more often than you are denied entry, then you can assume your work is up to the caliber you want it to be. If it’s not, it forces you to look at your work and see what you should change, if anything at all.” With her full-time work as a graphic designer, Krupinski does not have much time to promote her work, but entering national shows allows her to share her work with a large audience, and when her pieces sell, the sponsoring organization often takes a much lower commission than would the typical art gallery.

Limes and Stripes
2008, watercolor, 22 x 30.

With each still life, Krupinski combines an attention to detail with a love of abstract design, drawing the viewer into and around the painting as they take in the image on multiple levels. The dynamic use of light and shadow lends an expressive quality to her work, and the artist stretches the limits of her palette to create layers of rich, bold color that read easily to the viewer. “The key to successful paintings is consistency,” the artist explains. “Use your colors boldly; don’t be timid. The great thing about transparent watercolor is that if you make a mistake, you can blot it, or add water and lift the paint up. Even if you make a mistake, you have still made a decisive step toward being bold in your painting, which is what makes it your own.”

About the Artist
Chris Krupinski has won nearly 100 national awards and honors for her watercolor paintings and is a signature member of the American Watercolor Society, the National Watercolor Society, and the American Artists Professional League, among other organizations. Her work hangs in many private and corporate collections, and she was selected for the Invitational Exhibition of Contemporary International Watermedia Masters, held in Nanjing, China. She is the owner of CK Art and Design Studio, in Fairfax, Virginia. For more on Krupinski, visit her website at www.chriskrupinski.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the associate editor of Watercolor.

Ali Cavanaugh's "Doubtful"

2008-09-11T14:50:00Z

In the fall 2008 issue of Watercolor magazine, we explored how Ali Cavanaugh discovered a clay-covered panel that accepts watermedia and helps her create figure paintings. We offer an example of her technique in this demonstration of Doubtful (1:30).

Ali Cavanaugh

Posted to Artist Daily by Karyn on October 08, 2009

Click to Play | View Details

Watercolor: “St. George's Harbor” by Ogden Pleissner

2008-09-11T12:03:00Z

James Toogood comments on Ogden Pleissner’s watercolor painting St. George's Harbor.

by James Toogood

St. George's Harbor
by Ogden Pleissner, 1953, watercolor,
14 1/4 x 20 1/4. Collection
Masterworks Museum of
Bermuda Art, Paget, Bermuda.

Pleissner has placed us high on a hill, looking down at the harbor. This is reinforced by the view of the tops of the palm trees and the scale of the dark tree behind the chimney. The scale of the marks used to describe the tree tip you off, communicating that it is closer than the palms. Distance is suggested by the difference in value of the treetops, the palm in the center middle ground, and the darkly shadowed areas on the wall in the foreground, the mixture of Prussian blue and burnt umber is lighter in the trees, pushing them back into the hot haze of the Bermuda atmosphere.

In general there's a strong feeling of light in his painting, this is illustrated in the brilliant upper edge of the white wall that leads your eye into the painting ,and the rooftop in the middle ground. Also note the cast shadow on the road coming from that darker wall between them—its upper edge is also much lighter.

Bermuda is known as being extremely humid. We can see this moist air when we look out across the harbor—note how in the middle ground, the palm trees clearly stand forward from distant shore, but not nearly as dark as the darks in foreground, like in the gate for the wall.

Elsewhere, note the building that is partially obscured—it's a pink house. The white chimney is in shadow, yet it almost seems illuminated—one side almost looks yellowy, which is reflected light bouncing off the roof. Contrast that with the darker side facing the backyard, which seems to show some reflected green from the grass.

He did use white paint here and there. You can see it on the top of the white wall in the foreground on the left, and in the two semicircles on the wall. For comparison's sake, look just above at the next section of wall; that white area is reserved paper. Pleissner used white paint for those two semicircles and across the yellow ochre house in the white line that forms the lintel of the gate. Additionally, see it in the white paint on the right, on the road, in the vertical stripe that suggests some kind of pole, and with some of the marks used to suggest houses across the harbor.

Read Toogood's tips for achieving optimal effects with watercolors.

Read more features from the Looking at Watercolors series.

James Toogood will be giving a lecture about his work at the National Academy School of Fine Arts, at 5 East 89th Street, in New York City, on October 2 at noon. The lecture is free and open to the public. For more information, call (212) 996-1908, or visit www.nationalacademy.org.

Watercolor: William Trost Richards' "A Rocky Coast"

2008-09-11T11:55:00Z

James Toogood comments on William Trost Richards' watercolor painting A Rocky Coast.

by James Toogood

A Rocky Coast
by William Trost Richards, 1877,
watercolor and gouache on
fibrous brown wove paper, 28? x 36¼.
Collection The Metropolitan
Museum of Art, New York,
New York.

First, note that Richards was working on carpet paper here. This allowed him to work very large. Carpet paper is a bit textured, and irregularly so, which can sometimes require a slightly heavier application of paint. It comes in large rolls but isn't necessarily archival, although I've seen this painting at least twice and it looks fine--it seems to be holding up well.

Richards was known for mixing transparent watercolor with various types of opaque watercolor, frequently on toned paper. In this case, it's probably watercolor from his palette mixed with Chinese white and gouache, which is watercolor that has an opacifier, typically chalk, added. Notice that the deeper color in the sky is actually the color of the carpet paper. The carpet paper has a certain amount of color and value--typically gray--so to achieve the very pale yellow ochre color you see on the right-hand side, you'd have to mix Chinese white with yellow ochre. Because the paper is deeper in value than the highlights to achieve any of these highlights he'used a mixture that includes Chinese white or another opaque color. This method is also evident in the cerulean blue in the rocks.

Beyond those two hues, the colors I'm seeing are burnt umber, raw umber, and darks probably made with a store-bought blacks, either ivory or lamp black. Most of the colors we use today were not available to Richards. But Chinese white had been available for years. Furthermore, colors like cerulean blue and yellow ochre have a lot of body and can be applied more opaquely. What he did have were colors that had a lot of body. Mixing transparent paints with opaque paints was sometimes a point of contention back then, too. And while Richards did subscribe to Ruskin's idea of faithful ideas of presenting nature, he didn't agree with Ruskin's insistence on using only transparent colors. The key is that Richards could make it work. In lesser hands, incorporating a clumsy brushstroke of opaque paint in an otherwise transparent watercolor could ruin it. But Richards could incorporate opaque passages along with transparent areas in a way that is completely seamless, freely interspersing the two techniques to create a unified whole. In short, he could decide to paint a watercolor almost like he would an oil, and he was so facile that he could get away with it.

The rock patterns are at once very naturalistic and also very much "Richards." In other words, he discovered a way of painting things essentially the way they look, but in a way that is undeniably his. Very often if an artist wants to make things come forward, he or she warms them up. But another scheme is to have a full range of values for foregrounds and use only the middle values for backgrounds. Here, Richards gives the greatest range of values from lightest lights to darkest darks to the middle rocks. The sunlit rocks further away on the right would have had the strongest feeling of light if they showed more contrast, but they remain subordinate.

Notice how Richards allows the gray in the sky to sing by not graying the middleground rocks to make them recede. By doing this, you may well see the rocks first and then sky, but the rocks don't have the same prominence because their values have been compressed. I believe he chose to just compress their values, not gray them down, so there would be a contrast with sky. If they were grayer, they would have become too much like the background.

In terms of composition, he's done something very interesting--he's given us a whole series of directional lines that lead us through the composition. A line goes behind the rocks in the middle, and the opening in the rocks on the right leads the eye out to the ocean. You have all kinds of other opportunities--clouds bring you back to the center of the composition, and the clouds are reinforced by the positioning of the birds, which lead the eye back, making you want to see what's behind the rocks. The opening on the left is secondary reinforcement of what's going on. And there are other ways you can gain access into this composition. We in the Western world move from left to right, most of the time. He has given us a secondary way to get into the composition, from lower right to the center outcropping of rocks. In doing so, you are going to focus on the rocks in middle, to the exclusion of the other outcroppings.

Finally, notice the rhythms, and the contrast of the linear rock formations against the fluidity of the rolling, crashing waves. He achieved this through the way the brushstrokes were laid down. At this point Richards was a master at painting seascapes with 20 years of experience--that's why he could pull all of this off.

Read Toogood's tips for achieveing optimal effects with watercolors.

Read more features from the Looking at Watercolors series.

Watercolor: Judy Morris "Chinatown: San Francisco"

2008-09-11T11:40:00Z

James Toogood comments on Judy Morris' watercolor painting Chinatown: San Francisco.

by James Toogood

Chinatown: San Francisco
by Judy Morris, watercolor, 34 x 28.

This is a delightful piece, not overly serious but beautifully executed. It's a fairly simple palette; the colors seem to be cadmium red, perylene maroon, permanent alizarin, dioxazine violet, ultramarine blue, phthalocyanine green, and quinacridone gold. I don't think she would need anything else. Overall, the piece is painted very cleanly, and there's a certain economy to the way the artist applied the paint.

This watercolor is at once naturalistic and also fairly graphic. The red lanterns, the kites, the lights, and the buildings all lead the eye down the street, but even before you do that, you look up at the curtain along the top of the composition. It's a very interesting red shape that stops the eye for a second. Then you notice the pattern of bamboo and perhaps floral elements in the sky. The area becomes flattened by these graphic patterns--the watercolor at once presents a two-dimensional and three-dimensional feeling. Morris always seems to enjoy finding an interesting way of looking at things, and here's she's actually put bamboo in the sky.

Note the way she has indicated a gentle breeze--the kites are starting to move a little bit. The movement of the wind on that fish kite in particular points directly at a secondary vertical, the lamp, which can lead you either back down the street or up to the curtain. Morris invites the viewer to circle around the composition several times, and each time you do, you notice different things.

Read Toogood's tips for achieveing optimal effects with watercolors.

Read more features from the Looking at Watercolors series.

Watercolor: Frederick Brosen's "Brooklyn Bridge"

2008-09-11T11:29:00Z

James Toogood comments on Frederick Brosen's watercolor painting Brooklyn Bridge.

by James Toogood

Brooklyn Bridge
by Frederick Brosen, 2006,
watercolor over graphite, 28¾ x 51¾.
Courtesy Hirschl & Adler Galleries,
New York, New York.

The first thing that is noteworthy about this watercolor is its sheer size. While it is not unheard of for a watercolorist to work this large, this combination of very naturalistic realism and large scale is not something you come across very often.

The other thing is the wash along the upper two thirds of the painting. An enormous area of this painting is a graded wash, which Brosen did in one session. He didn't lay in a permanent rose, then a cadmium red, then a cobalt blue--he made several bowls of mixtures, wet the paper, and then put it all down with a big brush. Notice how even though there's a lot going on in this painting, he didn't seem to do much masking; he seems to have placed some masking along the horizon line and a little on parts of the building that are illuminated. Note how the light-salmon building in the middle is in the same value as that horizontal strip of the wash--it only looks lighter because of the dark buildings around it. Brosen simply put some cobalt blue on the shadow side. You don't need a half-gallon of masking to do this.

Brosen begins with an extremely elaborate underdrawing--a sort of grisaille--done in graphite before he puts down any washes. He uses astonishingly hard pencils--5H and 6H, for example--and really bears down hard on the paper. This prevents the graphite from spreading all over the paper when the wash hits it. You can see the drawing in the cables of the bridge; the main cables are painted, but the smaller vertical ones are probably just graphite.

It's interesting that the painting is much more heavily weighted on the right, with the warm red of the Pier 17 building coming forward. Red adds a lot of weight to a composition because it has a deceptively deep tonal value. If we dropped out the colors and just looked at the values, that pier would probably read a little darker than the bridge. This adds more weight to that area of the painting and makes the composition asymmetrical, which allows the artist to determine the story and move the eye around to look at various points of interest. Symmetry, on the other hand, has a tendency to create stasis.

Looking elsewhere, we wonder whether Brosen took any liberties with the scale of the buildings--they all seem to work perfectly in the composition. The water is very well designed. There's movement, repetition, and variety, with the ripples carrying the eye down the river. Also, the brush marks are fluid, which helps convey the feeling of water, and contrasts with the character of the brush marks on the bridge. This respect for the intrinsic qualities of the various elements depicted makes the painting extremely effective.

Brosen will be the subject of an exhibition at Hirschl & Adler Galleries, in New York City, in November.

Read Toogood's tips for achieveing optimal effects with watercolors.

Read more features from the Looking at Watercolors series.

Watercolor: Sargent's "Venetian Canal"

2008-09-11T11:25:00Z

James Toogood comments on John Singer Sargent’s watercolor painting Venetian Canal.

by James Toogood

Venetian Canal
by John Singer Sargent, 1913,
watercolor and graphite on
off-white wove paper, 15¾ x 21.
Collection The Metropolitan
Museum of Art, New York,
New York.

This painting depicts a famous spot in Venice, a view of Rio de San Barnaba looking toward Campo San Barnaba. The fascinating thing about Sargent's watercolors is his use of a lot of raw umber, even in the shadows. Much of the building color is raw umber, sometimes diluted and used as a pale yellow. We catch the lightest parts of the sunlit church as white paper. The color on the main bridge and the further bridge underneath the first one, are painted with thin washes of raw umber. It looks like he altered this yellow with some ultramarine blue on the left, and perhaps some viridian as well. Sargent is a master at using this very limited palette. Note how he gradually introduces more ultramarine as he moves further into the picture plane, graying it down as it goes into the distance. He makes the light read so well, especially where it spills across the buildings. The light source is also perfectly described by the two figures walking side by side on the right--one is in shadow and one is in sunlight.

Notice also how Sargent added a boat on the lower left pointing directly toward the church, and how the sky is a simple wash, which he worked back and forth to suggest high stratus clouds.

Finally, note how he described the sensation of water by compressing values. The campanile is slightly darker in its reflection, while the dark building reflections are a bit lighter. Sargent was not afraid to put a lot of pigment down. He did a large number of paintings such as these alla prima, then went back into them later and added white highlights and sometimes figures.

Watercolor: Cassatt's "Self-Portrait"

2008-09-11T11:20:00Z

James Toogood comments on Mary Cassatt’s watermedia painting Self-Portrait.

by James Toogood

Self-Portrait
by Mary Cassatt, watercolor on
ivory wove paper, 33 x 24.
Collection National Portrait
Gallery, Washington, DC.

Mary Cassatt was not known for her transparent watercolors. She usually used bodycolors, in both her oils and pastels. Bodycolor differs from transparent watercolor in that the white of the paper optically mixes with the pigment color as light passes through a layer of paint. With bodycolor, light bounces off the paint’s surface. Here she is working with both bodycolor and watercolor, in particular gouache, which is watercolor made opaque through the addition of an opacifier--typically chalk--which allows it to cover whatever is painted underneath. This is not a black-and-white issue--one can apply watercolor thickly enough to render it opaque, or scumble a bodycolor lightly enough to make it slightly transparent. Here, it seems Cassatt used watercolor for much of the painting--we can see the transparent paint allowing light to transfer through the pigment, mix with the substrate, and bounce back again in several places, including the upper right hand side of the painting. But you can also see that white has been added in the patch above her hat, in the brim of her hat, in areas around her face, and most evidently in the sweep of blue-gray forming the shoulder shape on the left. Clearly, a bodycolor was used to obscure the dark of her shoulder.

The palette is fairly limited; we see a yellow that may be aureolin (although it could be a now obsolete color, strontium yellow, which was semi-opaque), a blue that is probably Prussian blue, and Chinese white. Compositionally, it's worth noting the tiny marks on the far right, some of which seem to have been partially wiped off. Even though they don't describe much beyond perhaps suggesting an easel, they serve to balance the composition. In this painting Cassatt was finding the perfect balance and harmony. If the marks were too heavy, they would have competed with her figure.

Read Toogood's tips for achieveing optimal effects with watercolors.

Read more features from the Looking at Watercolors series.

Watercolor: James Toogood's "Mixed Emotions"

2008-09-11T10:36:00Z

In the spring 2008 issue of Watercolor magazine, James Toogood discussed how painting with watercolor requires an understanding of not only the paints themselves but also their application. Here, we present his demonstration Mixed Emotions.


Step 1 After making a careful and extensive drawing, I underpainted the areas in sunlight with cadmium yellow and the areas in shadow with a deeper value of ultramarine blue. I blocked in several more colors and then masked the buildings with both frisket paper and liquid masking solution. I then painted the sky with enough value of its own to support the enormous amount of value to come.	Step 2 With the mask removed, I continued to build more color and value to the painting with a series of washes. At this time I began to introduce intermediate darks to further establish a feeling of light and dark.	Step 3 I continued to build up the intermediate darks throughout the painting, using more glazes than washes. I also began to establish some of the deeper dark areas in the painting with even more glazes. Notice the introduction of these deeper values makes the relative value of the sky appear lighter.	Step 4 At this point I added much more color, value, and detail, and I had virtually stopped building any color with washes. I was only glazing, scumbling, and drawing with the brush.

Step 5
I continued to develop even more color, value, and detail as the painting neared completion. I then made the final adjustments.

Mixed Emotions
2007, watercolor, 22 x 30. Collection the artist.

The scene is 50th Street and Broadway in midtown Manhattan, a location that is usually a frenzy of activity. I eliminated the people from the composition so I could focus on the cacophony of color, light, shape, and texture of the buildings.

Read James Toogood's feature on achieving optimal results with watercolors from the spring 2008 issue of Watercolor magazine.

Watercolor: "Watercolor" 2008 Cover Competition Finalists

2008-09-11T10:22:00Z

Congratulations to the 10 finalists chosen in the 2008 Watercolor Cover Competition. These accomplished artists each take a different approach, revealing the versatility and adaptability of watermedia. Here, they describe their sources of inspiration as well as the materials and techniques they use to bring forth a unique vision.

To read about more artists like this, subscribe to Watercolor today!

Spicy Tomatoes
by Deborah L. Chabrian, 2006,
watercolor, 10 x 15.
Private collection.

Winner: Deborah L. Chabrian
“I push the medium of watercolor to create paintings that are perhaps richer and denser than one would normally expect from a watercolor painting,” Connecticut artist Deborah L. Chabrian says. The artist does this in two ways. First, she works on Bristol board. Unlike the more traditional watercolor papers that absorb the paint into their fibers, making it difficult to alter, Bristol board allows her to move the paint around on the surface the way one can when working with oil. This means she can make changes as she goes along. Second, she builds up multiple layers of color. “I often hear viewers comment that my watercolors look like ‘real’ paintings,” the artist says. “I can only imagine that this is because they expect watercolors to be more subtle and light and mine are usually not. I find this amusing because I have always thought that watercolors were ‘real’ paintings.”

Chabrian’s choice of subject matter evolves naturally from objects she collects and has around her. “I choose things that have evidence of wear and tear, that evoke a sense of the passage of time,” she says. “When setting up a still life, I usually start with one object that inspires me and then arrange things with it until I am satisfied with the composition, which can take a long time.”

What’s Cooking
by Deborah L. Chabrian, 2006,
watercolor, 22 x 26.
Private collection.

Chabrian sets up her still lifes wherever the light inspires her and begins working on them at that location. “I do not set up the still life in the studio because while the studio light is great to work in, it is not the kind of light that inspires me,” she says. At a certain point, she photographs the setup and moves into her studio to work. There she paints from photos and from elements of the still life that she brings in for reference, finishing the details and finalizing the colors.

Chabrian begins a painting by making a detailed graphite drawing of the composition on Strathmore 500 Series 4-Ply Plate Surface Bristol board. She then masks out the whites with Winsor & Newton Art Masking Fluid. “I do this so I can paint freely through those areas of white instead of dancing around them,” she explains. “I find that no white paint can ever have the luminosity that the white of the surface has.” Next, using Isabey and Raphaël Petit Gris Pur brushes, she lays in broad washes of warm and cool values with Winsor & Newton watercolors. She builds multiple layers of color using Isabey, Raphaël, and Winsor & Newton brushes.

Peach Pie
by Deborah L. Chabrian, 2007,
watercolor, 9 x 13½.
Collection the artist.

For Spicy Tomatoes, the inspiration began with an antique paprika can Chabrian found on a trip to Argentina. “I bought it just because I loved the blue color and the rusted surface,” she says. “I found the tiles at a local closeout sale and the heirloom tomatoes at a farmer’s market—I love how colorful and varied they are. I wanted to paint the can, and the tomatoes and tiles complemented it.

“I set up the still life in my kitchen,” the artist continues, “which has great light flooding in at various times of the day.” She then began drawing from the setup directly on Bristol board. When she felt the light was right, she took photographs of the arrangement. Before beginning to paint, she masked out a few key areas where she wanted to retain the white of the surface. She continued to work from the setup until she had established the general color of the painting with broad washes of warms and cools.

At this point she moved to the studio, working from a combination of parts of the still life and photographs. Chabrian says she didn’t finish the painting in the kitchen because she has limited time to work there undisturbed by children, meals, and life’s general distractions. “My husband is also an artist, and our house and studios are intermixed,” she says. “The art often overflows into other areas of the house, and our home life overflows into our studios.” She continued to paint for several more days in her studio, gradually adding details until she felt the painting was complete.

Cowgirl
by Sarah Chalek, 2007, watercolor, 20½ x 15½.
Collection the artist.

For more information, visit www.chabrian.com.

Sarah Chalek
New Jersey artist Sarah Chalek painted this piece for a class at Syracuse University, in New York, where she is majoring in illustration. It started with a photo shoot in which the students dressed, lit, and posed models. Chalek says she chose the cowgirl after taking about 200 photographs of models in various costumes and compositions. She completed the painting in about a week.

“I start every watercolor painting with a very light graphite sketch to make sure I get the proportions right,” the artist says. She then lays on washes and glazes of color, slowly building up the values from light to dark. Chalek uses Daler-Rowney watercolors, Arches 300-lb hot-pressed watercolor paper, and an assortment of round and filbert brushes.

For more information, e-mail the artist at sachalek@gmail.com.

Catherine Hearding
“Composition, value relationships, and color harmony are the basis for my approach and define my process,” says Minnesota artist Catherine Hearding. She begins by designing her composition, making sure all of the elements have a solid abstract quality. “I also make a value sketch to lock in the relationships and make sure that the painting has movement, and then I choose my color palette,” she says. Her palette will change depending on the subject and how she wants to work with it. Hearding creates an underpainting with poured watercolor washes, which helps establish her values and colors early in the painting process. “Pouring washes enables me to mix wonderful and spontaneous colors on the paper,” Hearding says. She masks her whites while pouring the initial washes. “Finally, I respond to what is happening on the paper and work to bring the painting to resolution,” she says. Hearding uses Winsor & Newton watercolors and Arches 140-lb cold-pressed paper.

Green Grocer
by Catherine Hearding, 2006,
watercolor, 20 x 28.
Collection the artist.

Green Grocer is part of her Market Still Life series. “I love the sights, sounds, colors, and textures of farmers’ markets and find that early morning is the best time for beautiful light and shadows,” she says. “I was struck by the way the light described the forms of the onions and bok choy, and I used negative-space painting to create that effect. The colors of the market are always inspiring, and in this case I liked the complementary color scheme. The shadows also played well in the composition and helped create movement through the piece.”

For more information, e-mail the artist at cathy@chearding.com, or visit www.chearding.com.

Aaron Holland
Boats depicts a familiar scene near the home of Wisconsin artist Aaron Holland, overlooking Green Bay. “There are usually dozens of boats anchored there during boating season, framed by a rocky coastline and lapping waves in the foreground,” Holland says. “In this picture I wanted to capture the feeling and mood of the day: a balmy, sunny, summer day with a slight fog hovering over the area. I attempted to re-create the delicate coloring of the water and sky, and the soft, warm lights reflecting in the clouds. I incorporated a number of experimental, layered drybrushing effects in the rocks, as well as multiple glazes, until the texture felt right to me yet still maintained a sense of mass and solidity. Boats is one of four watercolors in a series, each depicting a different aspect of this peninsula and what makes it unique.” Although Holland paints en plein air regularly, he created this piece in his studio.

Boats
by Aaron Holland, 2003,
watercolor, 24 x 18.
Collection Door County
Memorial Hospital,
Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin.

He first makes a drawing in which he works out all of the shapes and values, resolves any problem areas, and gets a clear idea of what the result will look like. “This approach helps me become familiar with my subject and plan for spontaneity,” the artist says. He often moves elements around in a scene to better suit the composition. Holland begins painting with broad masses of color, usually on a light golden-toned paper. He works from light to dark and from background to foreground, but he doesn’t hold himself to those rules too firmly. “I follow the direction the picture takes,” he says. “I get to a point where I will depart from painting just what I see in front of me and begin to paint how I feel about what I see. I then work from memory and intuition, trying to express what is important to me. I don’t want simply to record things like the eye of a camera, but rather with the heart of a poet and the artist’s eye that God gave me.”

Holland almost always paints on 300-lb cotton-rag cold-pressed paper. He uses three main brushes: a size 12 round kolinsky sable, a 1" flat kolinsky sable, and a 2" squirrel-hair wash brush. He occasionally uses a rigger for detail work, although he says that a quality size 12 kolinsky round will often do the same job just as well. In the beginning stages of a painting, he uses squirrel-hair mops to apply broad, wet washes. Calling himself “a purist,” Holland prefers transparent watercolors. He generally uses a warm and a cool color from each of the three primaries, although he will adjust the palette to accommodate the individual needs of each picture.

For more information, visit www.hollandartstudio.com.

Reenie Kennedy
“I have a love for florals and desert plants,” says California acrylic painter Reenie Kennedy, discussing Survivor. “The prickly pear cactus manages to flourish under the most difficult of circumstances, in this case, seemingly forcing its way through solid rock.”

Survivor
by Reenie Kennedy, 2007,
acrylic on gallery-wrapped
canvas, 24 x 18½.
Private collection.

Kennedy first sketches a few simple lines directly on the canvas and sprays it with fixative. She blends the colors used for small highlights and larger plant areas on the palette. When painting rocks, she lets a lot of the mixing take place on the canvas, layering colors until they reach the appropriate values. With florals she generally works from light to dark, and she uses gel medium to help slow the drying time of the paint. She likes to combine warm and cool colors and soft and hard edges. “It is always important to vary the edges from soft to hard in order to integrate your focal point with the background and to avoid making the subject look like a cardboard cutout,” Kennedy says.

For this painting, she used Winsor & Newton and Grumbacher acrylic. Alizarin crimson, burnt sienna, and touches of cadmium red light gave the warmth to the red rocks. Thalo blue and raw umber were worked into the shadows and rock folds to create depth and texture. Kennedy created the cactus by varying shades of sap green, cobalt green, and cadmium yellow medium, adding touches of titanium white to make the highlights pop forward. She made the lavender color in the dry grass by mixing cobalt blue and Winsor violet with titanium white and added it to the foreground rock to invite the viewer into the painting. For overall color coherence, she also applied the lavender to the cactus where the late-afternoon sun hits it. The sharp needles were added to catch the light and provide detail. “Although it’s usually not a good idea to put your focal point in the center of a painting, I think it works here because of the sense of depth created by the planes of color and the sparks of cool lavender against the predominantly warm palette,” Kennedy says.

For more information, e-mail the artist at noreenkkennedy@yahoo.com, or visit originalsbyreenie.com.

Rita & Katrina
by Paul Jackson, 2006,
watercolor, 36 x 22.
Collection the artist.

Paul Jackson
Missouri artist Paul Jackson calls Rita & Katrina a “found still life, based on various pieces and parts from a storefront window.” Jackson says it began as a challenge to a handful of workshop participants whom he led on a late-night “safari” through the French Quarter in New Orleans just before Hurricane Katrina. “We came upon the windows of the Fleur de Paris vintage hat shop, and I challenged each artist to create a composition from what we saw,” he says. “Because it was nighttime, the lighting was entirely artificial. Much of it came from inside the store, but some was reflected from nearby streetlights.”

He created the painting in his studio from photographs and his imagination. “The materials I used are old favorites: Arches 260-lb cold-pressed watercolor paper and Winsor & Newton transparent watercolors,” Jackson says. “My approach to the painting was to layer very thin washes. I am willing to spend whatever time and find whatever patience is necessary to make every painting work for me.”

For more information, e-mail the artist at wowrealart@aol.com, or visit www.pauljackson.com.

Christopher Leeper
After spending years painting exclusively in watercolor, Ohio artist Christopher Leeper now combines watercolor washes with traditional oil- and acrylic-painting techniques. “This combination produces a rich depth of glazed color along with an interesting surface quality,” he says.

Garden’s End
2007, by Christopher Leaper,
acrylic on linen, 32 x 44.
Collection the artist.

Painted with Liquitex acrylic on Utrecht stretched portrait linen with a variety of round, flat, and bright Isabey Isacryl brushes, Garden’s End depicts the artist’s garden in October. Leeper photographed the scene early in the morning when the corn was backlit by the sun. “I was inspired by the contrast of the ragged cornstalks against the dark forest background,” he says. “By the fall, the garden gets neglected, and the weeds compete with the remaining vegetables. This makes for an interesting, albeit untidy, scene.”

Working from photos, the artist first made a detailed drawing on the canvas. Using transparent washes of color, he then indicated the darkest-value shapes. Next, he washed in the local color and painted the lightest-value areas with a semiopaque mixture of color and titanium white. For the background, he layered semiopaque and opaque mixtures of color. He added the final tree textures with a Liquitex No. 14 palette knife and completed the corn and garden areas using several layers of transparent and semiopaque color. The lightest values were done with opaque color applied with the edge of the palette knife and a No. 2 Isabey Isacryl flat brush and a No. 4 Isabey 6227Z kolinsky round.

For more information, e-mail the artist at leepart@zoominternet.net, or visit www.christopherleeper.com.

Sandy O’Connor
“My primary subjects are the magnificent landscapes and seascapes of Cape Cod, Massachusetts,” says New York artist Sandy O’Connor. “I love the cape for many reasons. There are few places where the quality and intensity of light are as spectacular. Each season allows the same composition to take on an entirely new dimension and inspiration. These factors, combined with the architectural charm of its historic villages, make Cape Cod a truly special place for an artist.

Back to the Sea
by Sandy O'Connor, 2007,
watercolor, 22½ x 16.
Collection the artist.

“I am always mesmerized by the beauty and power of the ocean,” O’Connor continues. “The crashing waves, the shifting tides, the morning light, the flickering dance of a million stars on a perfect moonlit night—each element is a miracle to behold. In Back to the Sea I tried to capture, in microcosm, the essence of the ocean’s energy. The small rivulet of water erodes the sand, pushing the water into small tributaries that eventually fall back to the sea.” The artist envisioned the scene as a canvas that is wiped clean with each new wave, creating a new picture. “This same process has shaped the contours of the earth since time began,” she adds. “It inspires both wonder and awe.”

O’Connor spends a tremendous amount of time thinking about a painting before putting brush to paper. “But once I do, it’s usually the first thing on my mind when I open my eyes in the morning and remains the focus of my attention until the day I finish the painting,” she says.

She enjoys painting outdoors but is more productive as a studio painter, so she depends on her camera. After making a sketch to frame her composition, she fills in the details with photographs. “Sometimes I get lucky and produce that one perfect shot, but most times I utilize a montage of photos to inspire the right composition,” the artist says. “This part of the process is critical for me, for if I plan to spend days living, breathing, and dreaming about my work, I need to connect with it from the start.” A realist who paints in the traditional approach of light to dark, O’Connor makes high-contrast black-and-white photocopies of her photos and/or sketches. “This process allows the whites and light values to jump out and act as a roadmap for masking and painting,” she explains.

O’Connor prefers Arches 140-lb cold-pressed paper. When the subject matter calls for more texture, she uses Arches 300-lb cold-pressed paper. Her favorite brushes are a 1" flat Morilla purchased more than 25 years ago (“It still looks like new,” she says), a No. 12 Winsor & Newton round, and a No. 9 Grumbacher round. To capture all of the dune grasses and marshes on the cape, she uses a variety of fan and small scraggly brushes—some with only a few hairs left—for detail work. She works with a limited palette of Winsor & Newton watercolors, creating all her colors with three to five paints. “To my eye it creates a more harmonious painting,” she says.

For more information, e-mail the artist at sandy@redhillstudio.com, or visit www.redhillstudio.com.

Valda Robison
“I am in love with light and shadow,” says Kansas artist Valda Robison. “I look for a striking abstract design within a realistic framework, usually a still life subject and often just one object with dramatic lighting.” Robison says she has been influenced by the old Dutch masters, and she seeks to emulate the radiance of their work in her paintings.

Sprouted Onion
by Valda Robison, 2006,
watercolor, 25½ x 16.
Collection the artist.

Striving for realism, she usually starts by making a detailed drawing and transferring guidelines to the watercolor paper. “After painting a pale ghost of the entire subject to establish the form, I then build up colors and shading with many layers,” the artist says. “I may glaze over an area many times, charging the wet surface with several colors that mingle on the paper. After this colorful underpainting, I apply more and more glazes to build up the shading and then apply details. I never use black paint but instead mix up several pigments to make a saturated wash.” She primarily uses Winsor & Newton paints on stretched Arches 140-lb cold-pressed watercolor paper.

Robison was inspired to create this painting one summer morning when she saw the sun shining through her kitchen window behind an onion sitting on the counter. “I saw an amazing glow through the loose onion skin and an elongated shadow full of reflected color and light—and knew I had to paint it,” she says. She took several photos of the image and used her computer to crop them. “I felt a dark background would add drama so I added an edge to separate the two extreme values,” the artist explains. When she began to paint she was careful to preserve the light areas. After tackling the green stems, she created the dark wash with a mixture of colors. “It took several layers to achieve the dark value I wanted,” she says. Robison seldom uses masking, but for this painting she masked out the small roots. The shadows were painted very wet with several reflected colors charged into the wash. Once she had painted the major shapes, she added color and details to make the onion look more realistic.

For more information, e-mail the artist at vrpaints@valdastudio.com, or visit www.ValdaStudio.com.

Alan Shuptrine
In choosing a subject, Alan Shuptrine looks for the emotion and drama in a composition that his father, the late Hubert Shuptrine, referred to as the “X” factor. “Growing up watching my dad chronicling the dying South with his paintings, I am naturally drawn to the same subject matter in my watercolors,” this Tennessee artist says. Shuptrine was inspired to begin this painting during a visit to Highlands, North Carolina, in the spring of 2007. “Highlands was my childhood home in the early 1970s, and I have always loved the Blue Ridge Mountains, particularly the dogwood trees,” he says. “I remember the dogwood blooms would sometimes stay until the first of summer. When I was 7, I would run through our front yard in sock feet, swat the gnats with a Frisbee, and watch the sun pierce through the evergreens and light up the blossoms.”

White Easter
by Alan Shuptrine, 2007,
watercolor, 21 x 29.
Private collection.

Shuptrine spends a lot of time squinting at his subject, even after making a light graphite drawing on paper. “I try to visualize the finished work from the very onset, rather than let the work evolve—although sometimes it has a mind of its own,” he says. “I approach a watercolor as a planned sculpture of many layers.” Shuptrine first lays in the background with loose washes to create a distance that is casually out of focus. He then builds up the middle ground with more detail and warmer tones. “By the time I reach the foreground,” he says, “my colors are more intense and warmer—this creates the depth I need to call attention to my subject.” Typically, he chooses his specific palette ahead of time, emphasizing color balance and complementary colors.

He prefers Winsor & Newton watercolors, Twinrocker cold-pressed white watercolor paper, Arches cold-pressed papers, and fine kolinsky sable brushes in round, cat’s tongue, rigger, and fan shapes. He uses a hake brush for laying in large background washes. His palette is fairly simple: French ultramarine, cobalt blue, alizarin crimson, permanent rose (sometimes), cadmium yellow, yellow ochre, raw sienna, burnt umber, raw umber, sepia, and Hooker’s green. “I try to use only transparent colors whenever possible and rarely use Chinese white gouache—it just doesn’t look as vivid as the white paper,” Shuptrine says. He usually sits when he paints, employing a horizontal easel that he tilts to make a wash run.

For more information, e-mail the artist at alan@goldleafdesigns.com, or visit www.alanshuptrine.com or www.shuptrinefineartgroup.com.

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