One of the joys of oil paint is how it changes depending on the light. I am just as interested in how my paintings look in the half light as in the sunlight because well it can feel so different. If I am not horrified with my creation (in which case I burry it in a pile of rejects I have downstairs), it takes me quite a long time to look at it and work out what its doing and whether I like it. This one definitely has some features that crop up in lots of my paintings but I only notice this stuff afterwards. Anyway back to the photos: the second one looks much yellower than the first, the paint in question is pale ochre and is not very yellow at all but the light bulbs give off a yellow light and so the picture reflects back different colours! It's a minor point but it makes a big difference to my eye, it's the difference between a tickle and a punch. (Yes I know most of my paintings are really badly photographed, I might get round to correcting this!)
While I was in London these past few days, I saw the Wallace collection. This painting of St John by Reynolds impressed me for its beauty and motion, freshness somehow for something painted in the 1700s. The other is just from my train ride home. I was tired. I always think how our trains are becoming more and more like the inside of aeroplanes.
Learning from the one-eyed genius of Fred E. Miller the High Kicker. As an adopted Crow his subject were relaxed, their postures and facial expressions reflected their moods, feelings and attitudes. 'In brief truth was the element that distinguished the work of Fred E Miller.' (Joe Medicine Crow, M.A University of Southern Califonia, Tribal Historian.)
Chief Plenty Coups, the last Crow chief (1848-1932)
The pre-reservation Crows, especially the old chiefs ..."literally glowed, if only momentarily, with expressions of honour, proudness and greatness." (Joe Medicine Crow)
I never could pander.
The women only room at the checkpoint on Jalalabad Road, Kabul, from an article on Afghan policewomen. And some audience members at the fashion show of Giovanni Battista Giorgini at the Palazzo Pitti, Florence, 1953, from an article on the V&A exhibition on the glamour of Italian fashion.
wishes she too could hijack other peoples voices in order to better tell you how awesome she is