So, another summer comes and goes and with it the satisfaction of goals met and the dissapointment of unfinished business. As an art teacher for over twenty years the summer time has always been a time for me to pursue a special project or test some new ideas. If I meet my desired goal I'm usually ready to go back to work with a smile, if not, well, there's always next summer.
        One of my goals this summer was to take a workshop. I ended up studying at the Grand Central Academy in their "Summer Intensive". Most of my teacher friends thought I was crazy, why would I spend the entire month of July, five days a week, nine to five, studying in Manhattan when I could be at the beach barbequeing. Well, I have to say it was worth it. I'd always wondered about the mystique that surrounds Jacob Collins and his Water Street alumni. I wondered if there was anything from their three year training regimen that could be distilled into one month. The mornings were spent figure drawing and the afternoons I worked on a cast drawing. Although there was a lot of emphasis on technicque, I found, as with most workshops, that the real benefit came in watching the instructor's approach to art making. In other words, there was this idea of protecting your initial concept, and taking a lot more time in the initial stages of a drawing, so that your end result was pretty close in size and intent to your original block-in. Certainly a different approach from the Matissean morphing of a drawing that I had been taught in college. Jacob Collins's demonstrations were helpful in that he was pretty down to earth and talked quite frequently about his thought process as he proceeded through the stages of a drawing. After studying cast drawing in the Classical manner I could see why the French Impressionists wanted to revolt. It is mind numbingly tedious, difficult and yet ultimately rewarding.
       One of my goals for the summer had been to do a lot of plein aire landscape painting. I did manage to get out a few times, mostly to the local beach, but just as I was getting into the swing of it, the work bell sounded. My biggest problem with painting out of doors is that when I'm painting I'm painfully shy. I try to find places to paint where I'm least likely to run into other people. The beach turned out to be a good spot because I went to a well known fishing hot spot knowing that the fisherman would be more interested in what the fish were doing than watching me.
        My exhibit in East Hampton went pretty well with quite a few of the larger paintings selling and I've recently heard from the Argosy gallery in Maine that they sold a few of my paintings over the summer. So I can't complain, but I will anyway. I've managed to convince another gallery, the Coda gallery, way out in Palm Desert, California to give me a try. One of these days I will have to get out to California. I was born there but then whisked away to the Bronx before my first birthday. I've got a whole slew of family members out that way that I've never met. Maybe Angelina and I are really cousins. Doubtful. I know theres gold in them thar hills!
      At the suggestion of my painting instructor, I've started to work with thicker paint, particularly in the lights. What I'm finding out is that with the thicker paint, you don't get the light coming through the pale primer quite as much and it forces you to equate color with light. If the color intensity isn't right the paint just lays there as an inert mass because the light reflecting off of it is all surface. I am mostly pleased with the results, but ultimately my goal is to find a harmonious balance between the use of thick and thin passages.
    I've started a full figure painting of my wife posing in front of a door opened to a view of the backyard. I'm hoping to finish it before the leaves turn and I have to change the entire concept. Nancy's been generally pretty good about posing for me, but sometimes getting our schedules to coincide can be pretty frustrating. The life of the artist and model is a far cry from the joie-de-vivre depicted in the movies. My wife complains that I always make her look old and I argue that she's always scowling because she hates to pose. But, I am nevertheless pleased with the results so far and looking forward to finishing it. Next summer I think I'm going to try and talk both my wife and one of my daughters into posing, simultaneously. Talk about opening up a can of worms. I'll keep you posted.