Since I haven’t posted a newsletter since August, I thought it would be a good idea to send one out to wish everyone, even after the terrible year we have experienced, a safe and as-happy-as-possible Christmas or whichever holiday you and your family celebrates.
With San Mateo County’s and almost all of California having a stay-at-home order in place, Christmas for us is going to be very quiet with just a simple dinner for two. We were going to have a “drive-by” gift exchange with Karen’s family from Sacramento, but that is now not possible and has been postponed. It will have to be Zoom get-togethers with them and my family. At least we are lucky that so far both our families have been able to remain healthy, something we are extremely grateful for.
Some New Work
Because live music has basically been cancelled almost everywhere, I haven’t played banjo either solo or with a band since March. But, this has provided lots of time to paint! I have five or six pieces underway and almost finished including the one below, a view of the ocean and headlands from the northern side of Mendocino Headlands State Park. I’m hoping to work on it today and finish it very soon. (I realize this is a terrible image — the shadow on the right side is from my maulstick that hangs from a hook screwed into my easel.)
Here is another recently finished oil. It is from a photo that I took on a back road in the northern part of Sonoma County on my way up to our house in Weed. It was quite a long time ago, but I remember that it was late Spring and very hot and hopefully that feeling comes through in the painting.
Galleries
Starting in January I will have space reserved to display (and sell!) paintings as a member of the Coastal Arts League collective in Half Moon Bay. Once the stay-at-home orders have been lifted, hopefully soon, please be sure to stop by the gallery at 300 Main Street, Half Moon Bay, and take a look around! The gallery is normally open daily 11am to 4pm during the winter.
Finally, as a reminder, the Prentice Gallery in Mendocino shows my work along with a great number other fine artists and craftspeople. Everything is available online as well as in person. It is another really exceptional gallery to explore in a truly wonderful part of Northern California. If you are in the area when travel is again safe, be sure to put it on your list of places to visit.
Merry Christmas, belated Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa blessings and, if you choose, “Festivus for the rest of us.” Above all, have a safe and happy remainder of the year, wear masks, social distance and, at the first opportunity, get vaccinated!
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy these newsletters. If you are reading them on social media and would like to get them by email, please go to santhony.com to sign up as well as see some of my latest work, leave comments and read previous posts.
I was working on a newsletter for this week with the history of why I do realistic artwork but I decided that with over 1000 folks dying almost every day for the past who knows how long, my “story” just does not seem very important right now in the grand scheme of things.
So with that cheery thought, I am just going to make this and probably the postings for the next few months very short, just showing recent finished pieces and maybe some “works in progress” that I hope might bring back fond memories for you of places you have been (or ones you hope to visit in the future) that might cheer you up if you are feeling down while enduring this stressful time, even just a little bit.
Stay safe and well, keep your distance(s) and please, as they say, “Wear a damn mask!”
Thank you for reading! I hope you find these newsletter pieces interesting. If you are reading them on social media and would like to get them by email, please go to santhony.com to sign up as well as see some of my latest work, leave comments and read previous posts.
A couple of my friends asked me why I was writing these blurbs about inspiration. I had to think about that for awhile since I am a mostly self-taught painter and my “teachers” have been mostly impersonal art instruction book authors. The answer boils down to wanting to express my deepest thanks to them for the electric spark they generated to get me started down my particular artistic road. I was never able to actually meet any of the people mentioned so far, but I want to thank them anyway, along with the three artists I mention next.
A New Medium For Me
For over 30 years I almost completely avoided painting in oil. I think in total over the entire time I have been painting I had, maybe, completed three oils. I had always run into trouble because of impatience with the slow drying time of oil paint and generally wound up with something that looked like finger-painting with greenish-brownish-gray mud.
One day about five years ago I was going through a lot of stored work, both finished and unfinished, and tossing out really bad stuff. I pulled out one of the three, what I considered an unfinished oil on a Masonite panel, Still Life With Pitcher and Apples (below). I really can’t remember when I did it, but it must have been before they stopped making hardboard panels with the rough, deeply embossed “woven” pattern on the back.
My wife saw it and remarked how much she liked it and I kind of agreed with her (it was given to her as a Christmas gift and hangs over our couch). Based on this I decided to give oil paint another try. However, I needed to get a supply of paint, brushes, mediums and other oil-paint-specific items, so onto the Internet I went to do a little research.
I was happy to discover that there is now a water-miscible oil paint that uses a type of linseed oil that is modified to be thin-able with either water or solvent. This allows the paint to be thinned and cleaned up with plain water or mixed with traditional oils and thinned and cleaned up with solvents like mineral spirits. These paints were also touted to be much quicker drying than traditional oils, a vey attractive feature to me.
Oil Painting Inspirations
Having been away from oil paints for so long and not having much experience with them in the first place, I started looking online for some oil painting tutorials. That is one of the really great things about the internet, especially for artists — the incredible amount of instructional material available at the mere typing of a few keys on your computer keyboard. It was on Youtube that I discovered three wonderful oil painters, each of whom have free start-to-finish painting tutorials, offering great tips and techniques. I will introduce the three without images of their work since I have not sought permission to post them but the links provided will let you see the work and especially the video series of each one.
The first painter I found was Michael James Smith based in England. Currently, he has posted 171 free painting tutorials ranging from around 15 minutes to almost an hour each detailing his almost-photorealistic painting techniques. One of the main techniques I have gotten from watching his videos is that it is perfectly acceptable to do the underpainting for an oil using acrylic paint that dries quickly and allows you to get into the oil painting part much faster. He is also a master at introducing natural “randomness” — uneven spacing, varied shapes, angles, etc. — to features of his landscapes. Here is his Youtube channel: https://www.youtube.com/user/MichaelJamesSmithArt/
Another non-US painter that I think is wonderful is Andrew Tischler from New Zealand. He has a somewhat more limited series in terms of numbers of video tutorials than Michael James Smith, but he offers more information about palettes (range of colors as well as the physical palette), studio setup, a couple of plein air roadtrip videos and much more. His most important influence on me has been his emphasis of the importance of value and composition before even applying any paint to the canvas.
Finally, I recently discovered the Texas artist, Mark Carder. Previously well known as a portrait painter, he now seems to be more interested in realistic “alla-prima” (wet-into-wet) still life and occasional landscape as well as teaching. His painting method advocates for a very limited palette that, despite its few colors, can be mixed to produce almost any color and value. His website, http://www.drawmixpaint.com/, has a free complete oil painting course as well as 40 to 50 shorter specific topic videos. Some of these are wonderful “ask the artist” type sessions, with questions from his website visitors, that are really interesting.
I have a browser folder with a couple of dozen more great painters of various, mostly realistic styles that are inspiring to me, but the three above are notable for a couple of reasons. First, despite their obvious need and desire to make a living as working artists they have collectively worked thousands of hours to produce literally hundreds of video tutorials that can be freely watched by anyone. Second, their equally obvious passion for their work along with their generosity in sharing their passion is an inspiration in itself. Hopefully sometime in whatever number of years I’ve got left I hope I might meet them and thank them in person.
Thank you for reading! I hope you find these newsletter pieces interesting. If you are reading them on social media and would like to get them by email, please go to santhony.com to sign up as well as see some of my latest work, leave comments and read previous posts.
Instead of writing about the artists that currently inspire me that I had planned for this newsletter, I decided to first relate how I think location and medium (along with an exceptional artist) have been influences and inspiration over the 45 years since moving to this incredibly beautiful part of the country.
Location
My first painting medium was watercolor and, as I described in the last newsletter, my first inspirations were expert and well-known watercolorists, almost all of them at the time from the east coast. I collected books by famous west coast watercolorists like Millard Sheets and Rex Brandt who had lots of great tips and techniques to offer, but despite their great work, they were not as appealing to me as that of the easterners I admired.
Over those first three or four years after graduation from Dartmouth I was lucky to be able to see lots of superb work by other masters of the medium in books, shows and occasionally in galleries. In 1973, because I was selling some paintings and playing banjo steadily three nights a week, I was able to afford a six-month, two-days-a-week daytime watercolor workshop at the National Academy of Design in Manhattan with Mario Cooper, then president of the American Watercolor Society. Interestingly, Cooper won the Gold Medal of Honor in the annual AWS show during the period I happened to be attending the workshop. I tried searching for that painting to show one of the best of his works but without success. Aptly named Cormorants I think, it depicted a number of black cormorants standing on a pier with the foreground water painted almost identically to the water in San Trovaso below.
Cooper’s style was not what I was particularly interested in (plus he was a bit of an arrogant taskmaster), but his emphasis on composition and design and stylized technique did sink in, at least for a time. It seems to have somewhat shown up a couple of years later after moving to San Francisco when I painted The End Of Mission in addition to a couple of other paintings of buildings using a similar, not-entirely realistic, style. What I remember most after the six months was his mantra, “You should paint three kinds of paintings [in sequence] — one to sell, one to show, and one for yourself.”
The End Of Mission was probably “one to show.” The subject pictured is The Audiffred Building, one of the few buildings spared, by bribe no less, from dynamite following the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake — “…the Audiffred Building was saved [by] the bartender of the Bulkhead, the drinking establishment then occupying the building, bribed the firemen with the offer of two quarts of whiskey apiece and a fire cart full of bottles of wine.”
Since my painting of it, the building has been completely renovated and now houses an upscale restaurant, Boulevard, and has offices on the two floors above. It is still a really interesting subject although I think its original dilapidated state was more attractive from an artistic point of view. An interesting side note is that five years after I painted this historic building and location I would be playing intermissions five-nights-a-week (from 1979 to 1982) for the Turk Murphy Jazz Band at Earthquake McGoon’s, whose location turned out to be the first floor of the Harbor Hotel at the far left of the painting! As for the painting itself, I unfortunately have no clue to where it now lives.
The move from New Jersey to San Francisco was almost certainly the greatest overall influence on my artwork to date, and the west coast is the greatest source of inspiration for me still. At first, however, the landscape and architecture were so different that it took a number of years before my west coast landscape paintings did not, “…look like New England” as John Pence of the John Pence Gallery told me when he turned me down for acceptance as one of his gallery artists. The lesson learned is that it usually takes awhile for the “feel” of a place to sink in and be reflected in an artist’s work. I think probably after this many years it finally has sunk in!
A New Medium and One Artist
I started painting with acrylics a year or so before moving to San Francisco. Although they had been available to artists for many years, they were new to me . Water-based acrylic paint provides the combined working properties of both watercolor and of oil with the benefit of fast drying (for impatient painters like I was at the time) and permanence — it can be layered without dissolving what’s underneath. Plus, the palette and brushes are easily cleaned up with water, so volatile, toxic and smelly solvents are unnecessary.
My first attempts were to use acrylic paint in a traditional watercolor technique since that was what I was most familiar with — thinned with lots of water on watercolor paper and leaving the white of the paper for the lightest values. The result of this technique is pretty much indistinguishable (at least from a distance — close up, acrylic dries with a bit of a sheen) from a traditional watercolor painting. I have to confess that I may have first tried them because acrylic paint is a lot cheaper than high quality watercolor paint for the amount of “real estate” that it covers . One drawback, however, is that once dry, acrylic artists’ paint cannot be re-wet for use like watercolor tube paint can be, so any left on the palette may be wasted. A workaround for this that I discovered and still use is to squeeze acrylic paint into wells in ice-cube trays and spray the paint lightly with water and cover the trays tightly between work sessions. The acrylic colors stay usable this way for a month or more.
Up For Repairs is an example of one of my early “acrylic watercolors.” I wish I could find it — I am pretty sure I have it stashed away somewhere!
I am not entirely sure why, but at some point I was inspired to overcome the purist watercolorists’ aversion to using opaque white paint and I tried the completely different and conceptually opposite technique of using acrylic like an extremely fast-drying version of opaque oil paint. I say “opposite” because, In general, watercolor uses the white of the paper for the lightest values and mostly progresses from light to dark. Opaque media like acrylic and oil, again in general with exceptions, are the opposite in that a painting progresses from dark to light. This influence of the medium is profound.
This switch in (or actually additional) technique and approach was probably triggered by seeing the spectacular paintings of Ireland by Peter Ellenshaw (1913-2007) at a show of his at the Connacher Gallery in San Francisco, probably around 1976. Ellenshaw’s large acrylics, especially those of the Irish coast, were awe inspiring to me at the time. I am fairly certain that Kerry Coastline below was one of the paintings in the show. It was huge as I remember, probably at least 48″ wide. Up close, the paintings were very impressionistic with seemingly random dashes, dots, slashes and other marks, but at a distance these textures merged into powerful, almost photographic realism. And, true to the opaque acrylic medium he used, the paintings were obviously built from dark to light.
An Enhanced Medium
Just before moving to San Francisco I saw an ad in American Artist magazine for a new range of Liquitex acrylic colors, their Modular Color System (MCS). The MCS provided a complete range of colors pre-mixed with white in discrete levels of dark to light value. This system eliminated guesswork in value relationships and made “dirty” colors, that often happen when pure colors of different values are mixed, a thing of the past.
I did a number of acrylic paintings on canvas using the new Liquitex MCS. For quite a few years in San Francisco, even while attempting to make my paintings look less “eastern,” I was still drawing on hundreds of sketches and slides from back East and “Down East” Maine for subject matter. Low Tide Vinalhaven is one of them (and is available if anyone is interested in it).
I continued painting using both watercolor and acrylic (mostly Liquitex MCS paints) until the mid-1980s when a number of circumstances interrupted the flow. Thankfully, music and then computer programming filled the resulting time-gap, a gap that after almost 20 years has been followed by new inspirations to be described next time.
Thank you for reading! I hope you find these pieces interesting. If you are reading these newletters on social media and would like to get them by email, please go to santhony.com to sign up and/or see some of my latest work, leave comments and see previous posts.
Like all artists I know, I originally and continue to be inspired by the work of other artists that I admire.
The first of these that I can recall was sometime around 1967 when I was absolutely enthralled by the 3-book instruction series on pencil drawing by Ernest W. Watson (1884-1969). I was fascinated by the incredible realistic renderings of buildings and landscapes that he produced with just a common pencil. By the way, thinking back while writing this, I realize that I have to “blame” the Dartmouth Bookstore for sparking my art career, I am pretty sure, with the purchase of this first instruction book set.
Very soon after discovering Watson, probably on a nearby slot on the bookstore’s shelves, I found a similar pencil instruction book by another artist, Ted Kautzky, called Pencil Broadsides (which refers to his use of wide carpenter pencils). Also nearby were Kautzky’s watercolor instruction books. I took one look at his Ways With Watercolor and was hooked. This was the start of spending practically all the little money I was making playing banjo with the Dartmouth Five to add to my collection of watercolor books. I pored over watercolor technique and the examples in Kautsky’s books and absorbed all I could.
I recently found what I think was my first fairly decent but primitive watercolor, dated 1968. It definitely has a “Kautzky-esque” feel to it.
The visits to the bookstore kept revealing more fabulous watercolorists. They began to add more of the art, especially landscape, instruction books published by Watson-Guptill (the same Watson as above) by Philip Jamison,Richard Schmid and many others. Besides these books, I started a subscription to the no longer available American Artist magazine whose issues introduced me to a whole new world of inspiration, especially since the magazine seemed to somewhat favor realism, an art form definitely not in “favor” at the time.
Then 1968 introduced me (and lots of other people) to the artist and the book Andrew Wyeth. The book with its large, “coffee-table” format allowed for the reproduction of over 100 of his paintings, especially the brilliant watercolors, in wonderful detail. I was amazed at how, out of a seeming mess of wet watercolor paint, he could make realistic images emerge. My original copy is pretty ragged right now after enduring thousands of thumb-throughs, multiple moves, young children leafing through it and loss of its dustcover. At least it did not suffer the fate of what I heard was that of literally most copies of the first printing — pages were cut out and the images framed, obviously destroying the books in the process! Ah, the power of greed.
Wyeth certainly inspired me, but mostly to loosen up a bit, paint “wet” with lots of paint and, unlike many watercolorists, to not be afraid of strong contrasts and dark values. While I don’t think that my work then or now really emulates Andrew Wyeth, if someone ever tells me they think my paintings look like his, I am certainly not offended (as opposed to being compared to another realistic painter I will not name). But I think the main influence was Wyeth’s work allowed realism to become once again accepted as a valid art form and that when I started painting I was bucking up against the prevailing non-realist trends.
Around this same time another influence was Eric Sloane. Sloane originally published, among other titles, a number of books of sketches, diagrams and drawings of Early Americana, items like utensils, hardware, tools, even the weather (not exactly “Early American”), followed by a book of brilliant oil paintings of American barns. In this book I was particularly impressed by his dramatic lighting and composition. A lot of what I was painting during those last two years of college in New Hampshire were landscapes featuring barns or other old buildings, so An Age of Barns was certainly an influence on how I was seeing and painting these old structures. I am glad I concentrated on them at that time because they were beginning to disappear, many torn down to salvage old barn-wood, and replaced by mostly new metal structures with much less visual appeal.
Following a lifelong interest and expertise in meteorology and observation of weather, one of Eric Sloane’s final works before his death was the sky-scape mural, Earth Flight Environment in the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum.
Enough for now. Next time I hope to highlight some of the painters I now find inspiring (or whom I may have forgotten here) have influenced my art journey for the last 50 years and continue to do so to this day.
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As a Christmas gift to ourselves last December, I booked a 4-day stay in the wonderful historic and scenic town of Mendocino, scheduled for mid-February. For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, Mendocino is about 140 miles north of San Francisco, and is perched on headlands overlooking Mendocino Bay and the Pacific beyond. The views just from the main street are spectacular and the town is almost surrounded by the Mendocino Headlands State Park where short trails lead to even more.
As usual for a trip up there, I gathered together a portfolio of photos of some recent work to show gallery owners in an attempt to persuade one to take me on as one of their artists. Rejection is the norm because virtually every gallery is “full” and it is very rare one of them would have the physical or business space to take on another artist. In the case of Mendocino, this has always been a long-shot because there were only two or three galleries in the first place where my work would fit in and in the past each one was representing all the artists they could possibly handle.
The first day, walking around exploring the downtown shops, I was quite disappointed that a couple of galleries I had thought might be possibilities seemed to be out of business. They were just plain gone! The final one I had actually not even remembered (it turns out it had merely moved to a new location). It was set back from the main street with a beautifully kept front courtyard with a white picket fence and gate along the sidewalk and greeted visitors with a bright, sunny front porch entrance. As we walked through the front door, the quality of work was immediately obvious — really high quality paintings, stained glass, ceramics, sculpture, jewelry and woodwork. I thought to myself, “This is where I want to be.”
The next part has always been awkward both for me and a prospective gallery owner. It is generally a short back and forth almost always ending with something like, “We are completely full right now, but we will keep you in mind if a space opens up.” It seemed apparent that they liked my work, but the ultimate response was the same as usual. However, something seemed a little different this time. The owner, Lynne Prentice, seemed puzzled about something, like she thought she might have heard my name or seen my work somewhere before. At any rate, Karen and I left after really marveling at a lot of the wonderful work being shown and continued exploring the downtown shops, disappointed but not very surprised.
Fully a half-hour after leaving the gallery my cellphone buzzed. I saw it was from the gallery and answered and heard Lynne say, “I know where I’ve seen your work! A client from Florida sent us a silkscreen print of yours of Mendocino for us to sell on consignment. Yes, we definitely would like to have your work in the gallery!”
At last, a “YES!”
Just before my birthday in March, ignorant of the Corona virus at the time, Karen and I loaded the car with almost 20 acrylics and oils (and a few silkscreen prints) and drove them up to Mendocino to the Prentice Gallery. I will happily be joining a wonderful group of other artists and craftspeople. Of course, as luck would have it, immediately after leaving all my pieces and getting home to Pacifica on March 15, the gallery had to close due to Covid-19, but today Lynne is “virtual re-opening” with a newly designed website and will be physically open limited hours from 12 noon to 3pm on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays for the time being. Please check out all the great artwork at the new gallery website. I am sure you will really enjoy it!
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A year ago this month Karen and I were on a wonderful 21-day Holland America cruise to Alaska. We had been especially interested in this particular cruise itinerary because it included a number of ports that we had never before visited, including the Borough of Haines, a picturesque small town that is an alternate port to Skagway, which is a ferry-ride away.
We normally like to explore most ports on our own, but luckily we booked an excursion in Haines billed as “Nature Photography” or something to that effect. When we got down the gangway and walked to the excursion meeting area on the pier we were greeted by a really friendly tour guide and professional photographer, Cindy Schultz (be sure to check out her work here), who led the group of a dozen or so of us to her van and off we went.
Cindy took us to four of her favorite nearby locations north of town along Lutak Road that follows the Chillkoot River and ends at the incredibly beautiful Chillkoot Lake. On the return we stopped and spent a half-hour or so just outside town at Nukdik Point where I got more good camera shots to be used as painting source material. Karen and I agreed that the tour was absolutely the most enjoyable of all from the many cruises we have been on, in no small part because of Cindy, her knowledge of the area and her enthusiastic guidance.
Two days ago on Monday morning I opened my email and, after deleting about 25 campaign fund-raising requests and a bunch of “Senior” targeted spam emails, I was delighted to be presented with a message featuring the image below. The winning piece is an oil, the second of my Alaska paintings since returning from the cruise, and the award notice is almost exactly one year since we were standing in that exact spot.
I have almost always painted from photographs and sketches done on-the-spot that were “memorialized” by photos. Thirty years ago, before digital cameras, I actually worked a lot from slides that I viewed through a dissecting (low-power) microscope mounted on top of a makeshift sort-of light-box next to me. This was cumbersome, to say the least.
The advent and perfection of digital photography, plus the availability of tablets to view the photos, has made artists’ lives much easier. Just the benefit of being able to take lots of shots of a scene without worrying about wasting film and the expense of developing that film is monumental.
One of the main attributes of a realistic painting is the proper placement and composition of big, main shapes based on their value, that is, the light and dark areas of a scene. Because our eyes do not perceive the red, green and blue components of a color equally, the lightness or darkness of a color in nature or a photo is often quite difficult to determine. For example, pure red is actually a middle value even though it seems very “bright.” Experts advise to squint at a scene to minimize details and make the “big shapes” of light and dark more visible.
There are a number of “color-picker” app tools that display the not-very-useful-to-artists RGB (red-green-blue) components of a color at any point on an image loaded onto a tablet or phone. This RGB information is useful for computer art, HTML, designing screen layouts, etc., but the apps do not show the gray levels useful for artwork. Another range of tools also available to artists are printed gray-level cards to lay next to areas of a painting that allow the painter to judge gray levels. So, for painters, neither the “color-picker” apps nor the cards are ideal.
To fill this niche void, I have written an Android (only – sorry iPad users, at least for now) app that displays both the standard RGB values along with the gray value of any point in an image. Normally, gray levels are numbered from 1 (black) to 10 (white). The gray levels displayed in this app calculate the value to one decimal place, allowing you to estimate whether the value is slightly lighter or darker than the standard. In addition, GrayScaler will convert a loaded image to either a 5-level grayscale or 10-level grayscale image. Among other benefits, this feature makes the app ideal for analyzing the value relationships in your own paintings – just take a quick shot of the painting, load it into the app, and convert the image to 5 or 10 levels to see whether the big shapes hold together for a good composition!
Screenshots
Notes
When an image is first loaded it will be sized to fit the screen. As soon as it is touched, it will expand to its full size. This may seem alarming at first, but pinching, zooming and dragging are implemented, so you can adjust the size and position of the image any way you like.
As mentioned above, the normal artist gray levels range from 1 to 10. Any gray level displayed as less than 1 in the app can be considered black and any above 9 considered white. This is an old how-many-spaces-between-numbers problem – there are 10 spaces, in our case gray levels, between 0 (black) and 10 (pure white).
I am considering adding a “Settings” menu option that will allow sampling an area larger than a single pixel on the screen. For example, a 5 by 5 pixel area. This would make touching the screen less sensitive and provide an ‘average” gray level of a larger area. Right now it is pretty difficult to zero in on a single small detail to get the color and gray level without a lot of poking the screen and trial and error.
Comments are welcome below!
Click on the “Buy Now” button to purchase and download for $2.50
On checkout from Paypal, you will be re-directed to a page with a link to download the Android apk file to install on your phone or tablet. The page also describes how to install the app on your device.
It has been over 30 years since I quit doing silkscreen printing and I’ve never bothered to describe the process in writing despite being asked about it at various times, especially recently at the weekend exhibits of my work at 337 Mirada Art. This may be interesting to some, or not!
Silkscreen Basics
Silkscreen printing (synonymous with “serigraphy” and producing “serigraphs”) is one of the simplest methods of creating multiple copies of an artwork image, especially when producing multicolored images. There are many familiar examples of screen printing, from T-shirt images, through printed fabrics in home decoration and clothing, all the way up to posters and even huge billboards. They all use the same basic idea of squeezing or using a rubber squeegee to push ink through a fabric mounted stencil.
Many commercial screen printing operations use a photographic “process” color separation resulting in four separate screens, one for each of Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Black (CMYK) that result in a photographic printed image like in a magazine or newspaper. There is also “spot” color separation when just two or more bold, distinct colors are desired in the final product.
Photographic screens are coated with either a negative or positive light-sensitive film (or liquid that dries to a light-sensitive coating) and blasted with an arc light through color-separated negatives or positives. The “open” areas of the stencil where ink is supposed to pass are washed out. These methods are a bit too complex and costly in terms of equipment and materials for the average artist, however. I attempted to make a photographic screen once just using a light sensitive liquid and sunlight rather than an arc light, and it was an unmitigated disaster and waste of time and money.
The silkscreen printing process itself, with some variations, is straightforward. I am assuming this is printing on paper (never done a T-shirt!):
Raise the screen and prop it up temporarily. Usually a long edge of the screen frame is hinged, so the edge opposite the hinges is raised up. The simplest propping method is to loosely screw a 6″ or 8″ thin and flat stick of wood into the side of the frame so it drops down as a support as the screen is raised. Then just flip it back up to lower the screen.
Place paper in the proper position under the screen. “…proper position…” is the operative term here!
Lower the screen onto the paper.
Pour or scoop ink onto the blocked out margin of the screen as evenly as possible so the whole image will be covered by the stroke of the squeege. There may or may not be enough ink already there. Too much ink can create a mess, too little and the “pass” of the squeegee may not completely print.
Very lightly squeegee the ink evenly over the open areas of the screen—this is the “flood” stroke (sometimes the flood stroke is done with the screen up).
With a little pressure, squeegee the ink back in the opposite direction—this is the printing stroke.
Raise the screen and repeat with the next sheet of paper. Often, especially if you need more ink or it is drying out, the paper will stick to the underside of the screen and may have to be gently pulled down (not sideways which will smear the image).
There are a number of variables that work for and against a successful printing “pass”.
Squeegees are made of 1/4″ thick medium hard rubber strips mounted in a wooden handle. The rubber working edges need to be very straight and even with no nicks and sanded sharp with fine sandpaper to produce an even ink transfer.
The squeegee should be drawn across the screen at a slight angle – too much angle pushes the ink under the blockout or margin causing a mess.
Too much pressure on the print stroke can cause the screen fabric to buckle causing the image to smear. The screen must be tight to start with.
If the weather is warm and/or dry, the ink might have to be thinned slightly to retard drying in the screen and thus blocking the ink from passing through. However, too thin ink can run under the margins and even under the areas blocked out and ruin a print.
It is also important to keep your hands clean and free of ink — I know this from experience! I have had to toss a lot of prints ruined by ink smudges.
It helps to have air humidity as even as possible throughout the entire print run of all the colors. A sheet of 22″ x 30″ high-quality printing paper can shrink or expand more than 1/16″ with varying humidity resulting in blurry image margins and mis-registration in the image itself.
Experimentation and experience are invaluable!
How I Started
Sometime around 1979 I saw an article in the now defunct American Artist magazine describing an artist who used transparent inks in multiple layers to create watercolor-like silkscreen prints. The whole process seemed pretty straightforward and fairly simple in terms of equipment and expense. All you need is a wooden frame with a sheer 110 to 160 count fabric stretched on it, a rubber squeegee, some suitable ink, a “blockout” glue to create the stencils, and a stack of paper. I found it a little more complicated than that eventually, but I’ll describe that later.
Since I was, at the time, mostly a watercolor painter the use of transparent inks was especially appealing. Watercolor painting requires thinking from “light to dark” and is almost the opposite of opaque painting mediums. Oil/acrylic painting generally proceeds from “dark to light.” Of course, this is a generality, not a hard and fast rule, but it made sense to me in terms of doing silkscreen at the time.
I started quite small. I did not want to use my expensive 300 lb Arches cold-pressed watercolor paper (then about $4.00 per sheet, now $18.00 per sheet) to experiment but, as luck would have it, Earthquake McGoon’s, where I was performing intermissions for the Turk Murphy Jazz Band in San Francisco, was moving to a new location on the Embarcadero at the exact same time. The new location was the old location of Bellerophon Books, still the publisher of fancy, high-end coloring books, and the owner allowed me to cart off some stacks of 26″ x 40″ unused printing paper, perfect for experimentation.
The first task was to build a screen and hinge it to a plywood base. I say, “a” screen because I did not know it at the time, but most silkscreen printer artists make a separate screen for each color, which would mean that the 30-plus-color editions I produced later would have required way more storage space than I had. Being ignorant, I dodged a storage- space-bullet.
The downside (or upside depending on your ultimate goal) of using a single screen for the whole edition is that the print can never be duplicated because each color layer’s stencil is destroyed when creating the next color’s stencil. The upside is that you can guarantee to your customers that a print is from an “original limited” edition and cannot ever be duplicated.
The next task, actually a decision, was to decide whether to go with solvent-based or water-based ink. I decided on solvent-based ink. There are definite trade-offs here, not the least of which is for health reasons. The ink used and the blockout need to be incompatible, meaning you do not want the ink to dissolve the blockout during the printing process — a situation that would be a complete disaster. On one hand, water-based inks are easy to clean up (unless they dry in the screen) but they require a solvent-based blockout material. On the other hand, the required solvent based blockout is much more difficult to remove, requiring hazardous solvent materials like lacquer thinner. Solvent based inks just needed mineral spirits to clean up and the solvent does not affect the blockout. One company makes a blockout that only dissolves in hot water, but for me that would have required moving the screen to a hot water source which was impractical for my setup described below and besides, the one time I tried using it, it required a lot of scrubbing and did not come out of the screen completely.
So, with my single screen, I tried just experimenting with printing a single simple image with a couple of colors. I mixed regular artists’ quality oils with a transparent base. I quickly discovered that with more than a single color, “registration” or getting the colors and, even more importantly, the edges of the image to line up properly was critical.
To nail all this down, using the original American Artist article as a reference, I started a practice that lasted for the entire time I did silkscreen printing: My screens always had a polyurethane varnish border (which is resistant to almost any normal solvent like mineral spirits) of about 3″ and it never moved in relation to the plywood base; I used three little metal tabs, two at the bottom and one on the left side, secured to the plywood base so the paper would always be placed in the exact same position up against the tabs under the screen every time and for every color. Washing away the blockout (cleaning away the stencil for the next color) was always done “in place” so the screen never moved and, since the blockout was water soluble, the polyurethane margins were not affected. All my prints were hand-color-separated. I used a water soluble blockout (Speedball Drawing Fluid) painted by hand around the areas that I wanted color to be printed. This produced what was essentially a “positive” like a positive film image.
Now I seemed to be gaining steam.
I decided to try a more ambitious project. Linda Jensen (now Bob Schulz’s wife) gave me a photo she had taken of the marquis above the front door entrance of Earthquake McGoon’s just before it closed and moved in 1978. “630 Clay St.” is the result. This edition was still small, only about 45 pieces, but it had a lot of very dark areas many layers thick and was an early challenge with so many colors.
I do not remember the exact circumstances, but around early 1979 I was contacted by a representative of the Richard Mann Gallery in Los Angeles who I assume saw my paintings and first silkscreen projects somewhere. The gallery was interested in commissioning me to do a series of hand-printed editions from my paintings under a new subsidiary of the gallery, Palm Editions. They offered to purchase entire editions of silkscreens of selected paintings plus pay for materials
and in addition, I would retain “Artist’s Proofs” in a number equal to about 10% of the final edition size. In other words, if the edition turned out to be 300 pieces, I would aim for 330 good prints and keep 30 of them labelled “AP”. As a side note, with my method of using a single screen for all colors, “AP” really does not mean anything because there were never any separate “proofs” printed in the first place.
I decided to go for it and signed an agreement to get started. But, before actually printing anything I really needed to seriously upgrade all the physical equipment necessary…
Equipment And Materials
The first painting Palm Editions selected for me to produce as a print was an acrylic on hardboard panel (above), about 16″ x 24″ which was larger than my previous experimental editions. Any silkscreen final image should appear centered on whatever paper is used with about a 2-1/2″ to 3″ margin, so I needed to go bigger with everything. This required, first, a larger screen, second, more substantial hinges (ideally “clamp” hinges specially made for silkscreen print frames) to hold the frame, third, a base larger than the paper, and fourth, a large printing table to work on. I also had to figure out a way to dry 300-plus wet-with-ink sheets of paper.
All this took about a month planning, building, purchasing materials and organizing.
At the time, my studio was the entire open top floor room of the house we had recently built on Potrero Hill in San Francisco. The room was about 18 feet by 18 feet with my painting area in the northeast corner. I used the entire south wall for a printing table made from 2 36″ solid flush doors. I though this would give me enough space to put the stack of paper for the days’ print-run on my right side and the plywood screen base and hinged screen in the middle. It turned out that the stack of paper needed to be far away from my printing area to avoid ink spatter and drips, so I wound up building a rolling table for it eventually.
One final step was required before I could actually get to work — how do you dry over 300 sheets of ink-wet paper? They need to be separated and have enough air flow to evaporate the solvent in the ink (mineral spirits) overnight so another color layer could be added the next day.
My first solution was to string three “clothes-lines” across the entire room, each with 120 Bull Dog clips threaded onto them spaced about 1-1/2″ apart. The clothes-lines needed heavy duty hooks screwed into studs in the wall to withstand the tension on the lines but the system worked reasonably well for the first edition I printed. The main problem was that three-hundred sheets of 100% cotton printing paper is really heavy whether in one stack or spaced out. This weight caused the clothes-lines to sag badly every night while the prints were drying. Lesson one — it is probably a good idea to avoid nylon rope for hanging prints.
There was one (at least) other problem with the “hang-to-dry” method. Every morning when I got back into the studio the mineral spirits fumes were overwhelming. The fumes were also sinking down into the rest of the house and causing concern. So, I bought a 24″ wall-mount fan, cut a hole in the door that luckily just happened to have been designed for a fire-escape deck at the back of the house and mounted the fan in the door. With the fan on you could actually feel the air being sucked in through the front door of the house three floors below! And, thankfully, it completely cleared the air in my studio!
Changes and Refining
This “one-arm” is not my setup (I sadly have no pictures of it), but it is actually pretty close to it. Photo from Google search.
After about nine or ten successful print editions for Palm Editions, in 1983 or so Richard Mann’s father-in-law, who owned Fidelity Arts, a world-wide commercial gallery chain based in Los Angeles, took over. They promised I would get a minimum of eight print commissions per year and as a bonus they would purchase outright my paintings that the prints were based on. The big problem, it turned out was that they wanted larger pieces to satisfy their more commercial accounts. This meant I needed larger paper (26″ x 40″ rather than 22″ x 30″), bigger screens, more ink per print and most of all, a different printing and drying system. My hang-to-dry method no longer worked for the larger paper because the Bull Dog clips were not strong enough to hold them and the clothes-lines sagged all the way to the floor. Also, it was almost impossible to print the larger images with a hand-held squeegee. I needed what is called a “one-arm” setup which is the squeegee secured to a handle that rides on a roller-bearing track and can be pushed and pulled sideways easily.
The result was a twofold upgrade and required about a month to build:
A “one-arm” squeegee setup like the one pictured above. Thompson Roller Bearings are really expensive, by the way, as is the required custom-machined stainless steel rod that they roll on.
Also, unfortunately with no picture available to show of it, I kludged together a 46″ wide by six-foot long conveyer belt with 26 250 Watt heat lamps. Our next-door neighbor was an electrician and he ran two 30 amp dedicated lines from the basement to the 4th floor to handle the power required! A freshly printed sheet would be placed on the belt and slowly (but steadily!) pass under the heat lamps that were about six inches above the belt and the ink solvent would quickly evaporate. The dry sheet would drop into a bin at the back end that happened to be right next to the previously described door-mounted fan. It worked like a charm (except for the one time a sheet got stuck and started to char and smoke).
This setup was good for about 20 editions over four or five years.
The Finale Of My Printmaking
This hopefully interesting tale ends here. After I printed around 20 editions of approximately 300 pieces each for Fidelity Arts, they went out of business in 1987 and the company was sold to Circle Art Galleries. After the sale I had no more contact with anyone at Circle that has also gone out of business and have never learned what happened to the inventory of my prints they surely must have inherited. I have seen a number of my pieces on various TV shows and at least one hit movie (“Patriot Games”), so some may have been auctioned off to film production studios’ prop departments. There are also a couple of art dealers on eBay who occasionally post them for sale.
My “bout” of silkscreen printing started as an enjoyable experiment, grew at first to be an equally enjoyable artistic pursuit with Palm Editions but then took a turn when it morphed into commercial art for Fidelity Arts and became a stressful, physically laborious pain in the rear. The sudden end created even more stress financially.
Despite the stress, I am proud of the body of silkscreen print work I created over the period from 1979 to 1987, but I’m also much, much happier painting than printing!
Postcript
After initially writing this post I discovered a three copies of each of two different Christmas cards I printed about 1980 or 1981. Each image is approximately 4-1/2″ x 6-1/2″ on larger paper. I must have done them at the same time because the seven or eight colors used are identical — almost impossible if they had been printed in different years. They are matted as shown, but will probably need new mats since the mat interior has become darkened with age.
If you are interested in one or both, they are $75 each. Send me a comment and they will go first-come-first-served! Thanks!
Throughout the history of art, artists have been commissioned to create portraits. In fact, most successful artists from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance through the 19th century made their living painting portraits commissioned by and of their royal or wealthy patrons. In contrast, there were many fewer strictly landscape works, and very few of these were commissioned except for those that depicted religious or historical scenes and including human figures, often, many human figures.
I greatly admire the “old masters” of figure and portrait painting. However, I have never been very good at it figurative painting, most probably because I have not devoted the time or effort to mastering the requisite skills, especially the ability to get a good “likeness” of the portrait subject.
So, in light of the fact that my specialty is landscape…
I am going to try something new for me: I am seeking commissions for a portrait of your favorite landscape, coastal, or seascape scene, one that particularly excites or touches you.
How it will work:
In order to get started I need one or more digital images of one (or more) of your favorite scenes.
After viewing the submitted image(s) I will let you know immediately if I think I can do a great painting from one of them or if they just do not inspire me enough to do so. Everyones’ tastes differ (and that is a good thing really) and we both will benefit if we happen to be inspired by the same subject. Conversely, neither of us benefits if I just can not get inspired by a subject.
If I think they are good subjects, I will consult with you via email on some fine points to help create a good composition (moving, adding or removing elements like trees, eliminating distracting elements like telephone poles or extraneous structures, enhancing the lighting, etc.). I always seek to create a good piece of art, carefully composed and designed, not just a duplicate of a photo.
We can also decide on size, medium (acrylic, oil, or watercolor) and ground (canvas or hardboard—watercolor is always on high grade watercolor paper). The final price will depend on the size (see below), shipping, and whether you want me to frame the piece or ship it unframed for you to choose the frame to fit your decor (recommended). I will also try to estimate how long it will take to complete the work.
I am setting the pricing for commissioned work almost exactly the same as my current non-commissioned work available here on my website, which is:
$150 per inch of the longest dimension for oils and acrylics
$100 per inch of the longest dimension for watercolors.
This price assumes a basic rectangular shape, like 9″ X 12″ up to !8″ x 24″ for oils and acrylics, and standard watercolor sizes 1/4 sheet (11″ x 15″), 1/2 sheet (15″ x 22″) and full-sheet (22″ x 30″). I have never done odd shapes, like very wide and flat or tall and skinny.
After agreeing on the basics above, with your go-ahead I will invoice you for $100 deposit to cover materials to get started. This may sound like a lot for materials, but even a cursory investigation of the cost of high-quality artists’ paint, paper, or canvas in whatever medium you choose, not to mention high-quality brushes, will really surprise you.
When the painting is finished, I will take some high-resolution digital photos of it and send them for your approval.
If you accept the completed painting, the deposit will be applied to the final price and I will invoice you for the balance due. I will ship the work as soon as the invoice is paid.
If you decide to not accept the work, the deposit will be refunded only if the painting is sold from this website or from a show of my work within two years of completion. In any case, whether you accept the painting or not, following U.S. copyright law, I retain the copyright to the painting but I agree to not use your source image(s) for any further work.
Some tips on source photos and one caveat:
The best images are from late afternoon or early morning when the light is most dramatic and there is good contrast between light and shadow.
Strong backlighting is often very dramatic.
Scenes with multiple structures, lots of windows or cityscapes—anything with complicated perspective and architectural detail—take considerably longer and more work to paint, especially up to my own standards, so an agreed-to premium would be added to the basic price.
If you are interested in commissioning a painting of your favorite scene, click the comment link below and I will contact you via email and we can get something started!
Thanks! I hope I can do a great piece of custom artwork for you.