Varnishing day

With the B/W&C opening less than 3 weeks away, I'm gearing up prepping for the show. Over the weekend, I framed about half a dozen pieces, attached D-ring hangers, and wrapped everything in plastic.

While doing all this I noticed one of the older, larger pieces had some areas where the gloss of the paint was uneven, which left me dissatisfied. Although I don't always do this, in this case I decided the cure was to (drum roll!) varnish the painting.

A photo posted by Ron Crouch (@ralphart2018) on Oct 3, 2016 at 9:35pm PDT

I'm not sure why, but I always get a little nervous about varnishing. I think it's mostly from what I read about doing it as a young art student, primarily about the need for a "dust-free environment" - like that actually exists.

My practical experience has generally been relatively trouble-free. I use Liquitex Soluvar gloss varnish, thinned with just a small amount of turpentine, and paint it on with a 3-inch white bristle brush. I have less of a problem with dust than I do stray hairs off the brush.

So after pondering the notion for most of the day, I got home, cleared off a flat horizontal surface, poured out a little varnish and turps, and started brushing. After I finished I had enough leftover varnish to coat another older (but smaller) painting I'd decided some time ago to varnish next time I got around to it.

Clean up is relatively simple - use turps or mineral spirits, although in my opinion, turpentine cleans it out better. Important note! If you are thinning the varnish, read the instructions - it probably tells you to thin with turpentine. DO NOT MAKE THE MISTAKE OF IGNORING THIS ADVICE! The results otherwise can be awful - at least they were for me, years ago. Your mileage may vary.

So, why varnish? The usual reason given is to protect the painting, put a removable/renewable layer on the painting - all good advice.

Why do *I*?

Primarily because I tend to work thin, sometimes without a lot of medium, and the paint - especially in dark areas, can have a chalky, flat quality which looks sort of crappy. A layer of varnish will (for me anyway) make the colors instantly deeper, richer and uniform in their gloss.

It's a personal thing, to be sure, but over the last couple of years, I've pulled out several older pieces that I've not been completely satisfied with and hit them with a coat of Soluvar and WHOOSH - it's like a new painting. A good painting.

So, feeling brave? Just do it.

Don't use spray varnish (ugh); get a brush and smear that shit around.

You can thank me later.

Coming October 22 - B/W&C Group Show at Gallery 414

Update on the show I've organized at Gallery 414.

Show title: B / W & C - Paintings and Photograph by Ron Crouch, Leo Wesson, and Kipp Baker. It will be at Gallery 414, located on the near west side Fort Worth at 414 Templeton, just north of 7th Street and east of University Drive.

The opening will be Saturday, October 22 from 6 to 9 PM and will be up from October 22 through November 20. The gallery will be open Saturdays and Sundays from noon until 5 and by appointment during the week.

I don't know how it is that I've become friends with so many photographers - I've known Leo for over 35 years, and Kipp since my days as an undergraduate at TCU (I'll let you do the math there, thank you). Both have done countless favors for me (many but not all of a photographic nature).

I’ll be showing mostly recent paintings with maybe a couple of older, pieces, while Leo and Kipp will be showing photography. In addition to the Gallery 414 website, the 3 of us also have a website up with more information about us and the show, which can be seen at:

http://bwc-artspace.com.

Once we've got the final mix of work for the show we'll most likely feature it on the bwc-artspace.com website, but for now, here's a little taste.

A painting progression - Kipp

Finished a painting of my friend Kipp the other day which turned out pretty well. I actually thought to take progression photos along the way (smartphones are actually good for something other than texting), and thought it might be of interest to others to see how a painting takes shape.

First -- I usually start off by doing an underpainting or sketch in burnt sienna. This gives a warm undertone to things I find appealing. At this point I'm primarily looking at getting proportions and basic placement the way I want it.

If you look closely you'll see a light grid drawn in pencil. I've worked with photographic sources most of my painting career but have changed how I use them. Back when I was in grad school and for about 10 years afterwards, I shot 35mm slides and would project those.

These days I mostly shoot digital, using my phone, then print them out on a color laser and grid them off. They each produce a slightly different look. In addition to gridding, sometimes I'll print out the photo and project it on the painting surface using an Artograph opaque projector.

Second -- I usually work from the edges towards the center, doing more of the background elements, saving faces and other centers of interest towards the end. This has the effect of lulling me into working looser on these bits since (in my mind) they aren't the "important" parts.

Curiously enough, because I work more freely, this has the side effect of sometimes transforming these areas into the centers of interest in the final painting. The sweater, for example, took on this role.

Third. At this point I was pretty far along, but I wasn't completely satisfied with where I was with it. The painting was clearly of Kipp, but there was something about the likeness I wasn't happy with, and I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I was about to leave it as it was when...

(Fourth - brief interlude) -- I noticed it was Kipp's birthday. Since I was painting this portrait for my own amusement, I decided to do a little quick study as a birthday present. I found a piece of old 1 x 12 in the studio that had been cut up for some now-forgotten purpose. The aged pine had a nice middle-tone that served as a toned ground.

I spent about 45 minutes during my lunch hour just having fun with it. When I was done, I looked at it and saw it was by far a better painting than the one I'd been fighting with for the last several days. So now I couldn't just leave it...

Fifth - I stared at the painting and the study, trying to sort out why one was so good and the other not. I went back in, wiped out what I had done with a turpentine-soaked rag (the painter's best friend), and started over.

A fair amount of the problem was some subtle proportional issues with the shape of the head and what-not. The rest of it was just that the painting was overworked - the surest way I know to ruin a painting.

 So I finally finished; it still wasn't as wonderful as the study but it was definitely improved. And somedays you just have to be satisfied with improvement over perfection.

 Hope you found this interesting!

New 4th of July painting

Well, I finished this on the weekend of the 4th. I started it about
nine months ago. Also: I'm not so much finished as I am tired of
screwing with it. Maybe it will grow on me. I don't dislike it as much
as I did 3 weeks ago so there's hope.



(Photo taken with my iPhone, which is why it looks so crappy.)

Repair job

I finally got around to doing a little painting repair this weekend.

Background: we had an old painting my wife's aunt had done many years ago. Somehow in its travels it managed to acquire an inch long tear, no doubt from something poking it. The painting wasn't valuable in a monetary sense, but it had sentimental value. I said I'd repair it.

Before going much further I consulted the source of all wisdom, my ancient copy of Ralph Mayer's Artist's Handbook of Materials and Techniques. Among the chapters is one on conservation, which includes a section on repairs. It became my road map for this project.

New painting - Porch Musicians

Just finished a painting tonight.

At least I think it's finished. Sometimes I'll look at something after it's cooled off for a few days and discover I was wrong about it being finished (or not finished). Mostly I'm tired of working on this, which is often a big factor in deciding when something is done.

To hedge my bets, I may do another version later.

I've decided my next painting is going to be a variation on the portrait of Dorothy I recently completed. I want one that doesn't look so much like a "we named this building after her" kind of portrait, if that makes any sense.

Shot with my iPhone, which is why it looks crappy.

Portrait of Dorothy

Working on a portrait of Dorothy.

I shot a picture of her at Lilli's Bistro on Magnolia a couple of weeks ago with my phone. In the photo she had a real Georgia O'Keefe quality that I liked a lot and I decided it would make a good painting. In my mind I had this fantasy painting this would turn into.

Wrong.

The actual painting is not much like the one I envisioned. The fantasy painting was built out of decisive, masterly brushstrokes and thick, sculptural paint. The one I ended up with was not quite that way. Which is not to say I don't like this painting -- it just isn't the painting I expected.

Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Oil on canvas, 30 x 40 inches.

Painting photo shot with my iPhone, which is why it's rather a crappy reproduction.

Recent Paintings - Fall 2009

On view October 3, 2009, 3:00 PM to 10:00 PM
Offices of Courage & Renewal North Texas
1229 7th Ave. (Corner of W. Magnolia, just west of Benito's)
Fort Worth, TX 76104

---

I'm showing a handful of new (and maybe a couple of old) paintings next week during the Fall 2009 Southside Arts Goggle. This will be the first time I've exhibited in around 10 years. About time, you might say.

These will be on display at the offices of Courage & Renewal - North Texas,  located at 1229 7th Ave. (Corner of W. Magnolia, just west of Benito's). In addition to my work, C&RNT will also be showing photographs by Donna Bearden and sculptures by Wayne Martin.

In years past Arts Goggle has coincided with Fort Worth Gallery night, but this fall takes place on October 3, 2009, from 3:00 pm to 10:00 pm. I'm intending to be there most of the time (with a little break at some point for dinner).

For those who've never done it, Arts Goggle is basically a street festival. There will be lots of art in non-traditional venues, music, food and general good fun. It's the sort of thing you can park and wander from venue to venue quite easily.

For those who are directionally challenged, here's a map to the office of C&RNT (click to pull up the full Google map):

50 First Dates vs. Same Time, Next Year

A friend, responding to a recent Twitter post, asked me the difference between the mindset of working in acrylics vs. working in oils. Before I start, let me say I've worked in both, and both can be very satisfying -- so this is not an endorsement of one over the other.

The short reply I gave was that acrylics were 50 First Dates, and oils were Same Time, Next Year.

In 50 First Dates, the character of Drew Barrymore has no memory of the day before, placing considerable challenges on Adam Sandler, who is courting her. Likewise, with acrylics, the paint is dry in an hour; there is no direct interaction between each layer of paint. Once the water evaporates, you're done.

Which can be good, especially for smaller pieces. There is a clean freshness to working in acrylics; you can (almost immediately) overpaint without having to think about how underlayers are going to react. I tend to work in layers of thin transparent paint, building up layers and gradually working more thickly.

The movie Same Time, Next Year chronicles a 24 year affair, consummated once a year. And so it is with oils: nothing is every truly forgotten. Each time you take the brush up you continue the previous conversation. Your past is always waiting to catch up with you.

You can go back in and rework, remove and repaint anything. On the other hand, doing too much results in a jumble of mud. Many's the time I've gone in after a session, disgusted with the day's output, and wiped it down with a turpentine soaked rag. I've done this to work I've done two weeks ago.

The funny thing is, it is not really erasing. A ghost of what you did, what you learned and how you failed remains: to haunt you, to guide you. And that layer of wiped paint somehow retains some sort of psychic energy. Some of the best painting I've ever done was on top of a wiped down canvas.

As acrylics dry, they become sticky, and impossible to rework. Because they are water-based, they more strongly resemble working in watercolor or gouache. Most (not all) of my acrylics are works on paper.

Oils continue to be slick and workable for a long time (unless you use an alkyd painting medium). Because of the longer drying time, one has to consider thinking of how to manage the paint layers. With enough turpentine, you can work back into almost any paint film, whether you intend to or not.

Not sure if this answered any questions, but if all it did was generate more questions I've succeeded on one level.