So, following the Robert Bateman’s demo and ideas about underpainting in acrylic, I dug out my old Winsor Newton “Finity” acrylics (amazingly, all but one or two colors were still perfectly usable!) and decided to give it a shot. Here’s a little video (more…)
A huge highlight of the opening weekend of the 55th Annual Members’ Exhibition of the Society of Animal Artists (SAA) was the Saturday workshop presentation by Canadian artist and naturalist, Robert Bateman. Credit for this remarkable opportunity goes to Jan Martin McGuire, SAA Board Member and a long-time friend of Bateman. He’s been her mentor since she was a young artist and, over the years, they have formed a mutual admiration society.
Following a short general membership meeting, our day with Robert Bateman began. We were treated to a Powerpoint career overview, presented by the man himself. You know how, when the word “Powerpoint” comes up, eyes usually roll? Well, not this time. At the age of 85, the artist has a lifetime’s worth of fascinating and often humorous stories to tell, so the narration and images were anything but dull.
The Importance of Reference Material
After lunch, we met briefly in the parking lot of the Marriot, while the artist talked about how he goes about gathering reference materials. He said he had no idea what he was going to paint for us, but he’d brought an assortment of bird reference (on his tablet) and then looked for suitable habitat outside the hotel. He shot some detail pictures of one of the white pines, thinking it might work with an owl.
Then we walked over to the other side of the building to a semi-wild buffer area that separated the parking lot from a nearby divided highway, where a stand of phragmites caught his eye. Phragmites are an invasive species in wetland areas the world over, so the idea here was to use the reeds as a background for a demo of a Great blue heron.
One interesting tip he shared was to include some object of a known size – he used his folded glasses – in your reference shots as an aid in determining correct size relationships when incorporating birds or animals into the scene later.
Bateman always uses multiple photos as reference, sometimes as many as fifty for a single painting, because he hates what he calls “cooked up” work – that is, inauthentic images where much is clearly “made up” out of the artist’s imagination. Paintings that are concocted in this way simply don’t have the verisimilitude that is the hallmark of quality wildlife art. He’s not a slave to the reference, however; never copying a single photo, he refers to the collected information to ensure his depictions of nature are authentic.
Back inside, Bateman showed us an example of one of his many sketchbooks. He later passed it around so we could leaf through it. Many of us took photos of our favorite pages.
On to the demo!
Bateman’s emphasis was on the thought process involved in the development of a painting, so the actual demo only took about an hour and focused on the starting block-in. After some back and forth, he finally settled on the phragmites-with-heron idea and did a lot of thinking out loud as he jumped into the painting process. Although he didn’t do it this time, he said he usually does some compositional thumbnails to play with different options before starting in.
Working on a piece of acrylic gessoed hardboard with acrylic paints, and with his two references visible – the heron on his tablet and the phragmites on the main screen – he began by blocking in some directional lines to indicate the reeds.
Using a neutral gray-green, values are blocked in quickly in a series of steps.
At this point, Bateman decided it was time to “kill it”. That’s his term for using a transparent glaze (either light or dark; he had both mixed up in small jars, ready to use) to unify and neutralize the elements, helping to create that first hint of mystery that is characteristic of his work. In this case, he used the light, milky glaze, pouring a small amount on a piece of damp foam rubber (the kind you stuff furniture cushions with) and patting it on evenly all over the painting.
After the glaze dried, he increases the contrast again – punching up the darks and the highlights.
By this time, it was 5:30 in the afternoon, so the demo ended. But to finish the painting, he would continue working in a similar manner, refining, adding texture of fur or feathers, building color, lights and darks, and occasionally “re-killing” it all with the transparent glazes, and then reworking it all again.
Bateman said he really can’t say how long it takes him to finish any one painting, because he usually has five or ten in various stages of development and he rotates among them. Eventually – it could take weeks, months or sometimes, years – his paintings are completed.
If you’ve enjoyed this overview of his process and his work, check out the many books on his art. You can also view a selection of his work on his website.
The 55th Annual Members’ Exhibition of the Society of Animal Artists, Art and the Animal, will be on display at the Roger Tory Peterson Institute of Natural History in Jamestown, New York through October 25, 2015.
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One of the chores that comes with being an artist is packing up paintings for shipment. I have three that recently juried into two different shows and they all had to arrive at their destinations by last Friday. So I spent much of the previous weekend getting work into their frames and then into their cozy boxes for delivery to FedEx.
The easiest way to pack a painting is in an AirFloat (Uline also sells similar boxes) and because of this, many exhibition show committees require them for flatwork shipped to their venues. And I can certainly understand why! Consider the job they have when the show is over: repacking 100 or more pieces for return shipping to the artist or collector, and you’ll see why these folks want us to make it as easy as possible for them.
Here’s how they work.
The box comes with three layers inside: A sheet of “eggcrate” foam on the bottom, a flat center sheet that’s perforated into 1.25″ cubes for easy tearing; and another top layer of eggcrate (not shown here). In this picture, you can see that I’ve removed the middle of the flat sheet (with the help of those perforations), leaving a frame of foam that’s perfectly sized for the artwork.
The artwork, in a plastic garbage bag to protect it on the off chance that the box gets really, really, wet, is placed into the foam frame.
The top eggcrate foam sheet is ready to be laid down. . .
. . .and the painting is snug in its foam sandwich.
The box is closed, sealed with tape and labeled, ready for shipping.
The flipside of the convenience of these heavy-duty “art shippers”, is their cost. The one in these photos (28” x 36”) is $114 including shipping from Mississippi to New York. But they really are pretty tough so they can be reused, which is why I never use new AirFloats for a painting that’s only going one-way, unless I can make some arrangement to get the box back (or unless the box is about at the end of its useful life).
I can, of course, pack a painting for a lot less using a big cardboard box and either lining it with builders’ foam insulation sheets cut to size, or simply wrapping the painting well in bubble wrap. (One thing I try to do is order frames separately, because they automatically come in a perfectly sized box. Sometimes I can even reuse a lot of the packing materials, too!) But there’s generally a lot more effort involved with the DIY packing approach, so as with so many things in art (and life) it comes down to a choice of more work vs. more money.
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