Ever since I’ve been blogging and sending out newsletters, I’ve been asked countless times how I make my art. It’s easily the second most asked question I receive after “How long did that painting take?” (why does that even matter? Why do we need to quantify everything?) Anyway…there’s many levels of answers to the relatively simple query of how one makes art - many of which lead to philosophical rabbit holes that are best left to art school students and stoned bookstore clerks. Been there. Done that. Instead, I’ll join the fray and try and map out the quantifiable mechanics - the PROCESS - of how this guy makes his art. At the end of the day, it’s importance only applies to me, and it changes constantly, but I’ll give you a peek behind the curtain at the basics…since you asked…because curiosity should be rewarded.
This is the point in my former life in the corporate world where I carefully map out a schematic diagram, complete with boxes, arrows, dotted lines (oh, the dotted lines of uncertainty!) and parallel paths. Then I put it in a Powerpoint slide (to make it real,) and promptly forget about it. In my current world, there are only three main boxes, each containing their own cloudy and chaotic stuff. They most often occur in this order:
Hunting - Where I open my eyes, mind and emotions to what is possible. In the case of landscapes, this most often takes the form of wandering. I go to a spot and walk around. If I see something that captures my interest I take a photo. It can be anything - an object, a panorama, a person, a manhole, a simple color or odd shape. It all goes into the photo library in my Cloud for later inspection. I try not to fall in love with something, but merely flirt with it. I scavenge, steal and scrape stuff from the place I’m exploring and never edit. You never know what will resonate later on. My good friend, Bob Byrnes taught me this sensibility. His studio was festooned (I love that word - festooned) with leaves, sticks, candy wrappers, anything he might glean a color or whatever from in a painting to come. It is a valuable tool, this wandering eye, although it does make for a rather large Cloud subscription - I’m currently at over 50,000 images. These are my raw materials.
Gathering - This either takes place back in the studio or in a coffee shop over a steaming cuppa. It’s the time to open the entire library of images, stir in the intangibles - such as my current state of mind, the weather outside, and the aroma of the Americano next to your monitor - and start putting it all together. Sometimes it coalesces quickly and assembles itself, but more often it takes some time to work out. In theory, it could even be raw - one image begging to turn into a painting. In my studio, that never happens - I’m always going to monkey around with things. The tools I use at this point are pencil, Illustrator, charcoal, Photoshop and my laser printer. The idea is to produce a maquette or sketch to be used as a blueprint for the final piece.
Making - Tack up the plan in the studio next to the easel, find a surface to manipulate and a medium to play with, choose the appropriate playlist, and GO. In my youth, I started by sketching onto the surface first, then added color. Now, since the drawing is done in the second step, I only plot out the basic composition and then add color and other elements layer by layer. From there on, the painting determines it’s own path. It’s done when it says it’s done, no sooner, no later. I like hard surfaces - in watercolors, I use thick board, in oils I most often use cradled wooden panels. My oil paint of choice is Williamsburg. My watercolors are a Japanese brand I haven’t the keyboard to type here. Brushes and knives and sticks vary as needed and/or available. The playlist is very important and it can be anything from acoustic to zydeco. The only constant is that the end of a painting session ALWAYS ends with metal, preferably Motorhead, Metallica or Tool. It clears the palette, so to speak.
The best part about this dance is that it should, can and will fluctuate with the wind.
The only discipline needed is to show up.
Curiosity will be rewarded.
