Just over a year ago, I joined  the People Making Portraits Meetup Group https://www.meetup.com/People-Making-Portraits ). The group meets via Zoom. It took at little time to get over the discomfort of meeting virtually, but I have come to enjoy connecting to other people. We have members from many different locations. Most are in the Austin,Texas metro area, but we have had participants on the East Coast, West Coat, Middle America, Europe, the Middle East. We take turns posing for each other; very short poses, nothing longer than 20 minutes. Here are just a few examples.  All drawn freehand on my iPad Pro, using the Sketch Club app and Apple Pencil  .

Looking at art history.  Here we have a fragment of a sculpture: God the Father, c. 1510, from the workshop of Andrea della Robbia (1435-1525). Terracotta, partly enameled, with some of the color still visible, but most worn off.  I see fragments of sculptures as so evocative of the uncertainty of life.  "Change and decay in all around I see," says the old hymn. "Oh, Thou who changes not, abide with me." 

Luca della Robbia (1399/1400--1482) born in Renaissance Florence became a true innovator in the medium of glazed terracotta. He took the humble material of clay (terracotta means "cooked earth") and created beautiful, luminous works using colorful, reflective glazes. He started a very successful family enterprise.  His nephew Andrea, who created this piece, inherited the workshop in 1482.  Five of Andrea's children joined in  the business.  Della Robbia sculptures can be found all over Florence and other cities, with many works in museums all over the world.

The Victoria & Albert Museum owns this work, but it is not on view.  Fragments so rarely are, when a museum owns complete works.  It's a pity tho.  

Today you can find "Della Robbia" knock-off pottery on Etsy and eBay. The name lives on.

#michelangelo #matthew #michelangelomatthew

#vincentvangogh #vangogh #vangoghmissionary #vincent

The eyes are the window of the soul. The French say, the eyes are the mirror of the soul ("Les yeux sont le miroir de l'ame.")

In the time of Covid-19, responsible people wear a mask that covers the mouth and nose. We don't know how long this stretch will last, but, for now, as we are out and about, we see each other's eyes.  We can still tell if someone is smiling by looking at the eyes.  A fake smile doesn't engage the eyes. With a genuine smile, they crinkle and twinkle.  I imagine sales of lipstick are down, sales of mascara up. 

So, I may have started a new series in response.  I had been working on a series portraying the cell phone as a kind of mask, a barrier to communication, when we are so absorbed in that little screen we pay no attention to the people around us. But in these last few works, the figure wears an actual mask and gazes directly at the viewer, not at a device.  Perhaps in this season, lonely as we shelter in place, we will crave looking each other in the eye.

I created these portraits on my iPad Pro, Apple Pencil in hand, using the Sketch Club app, no image load involved, no hidden tracing. These portraits are based on selfies posted by the subjects themselves on the Sktchy app for IOS.

For information on the Sketch Club app: app.sketchclub.com -- for info on the Sktchy app: get.sktchy.com

I am old enough to remember when the phrase "Black Is Beautiful" burst on the scene.  It never meant "Only Black Is Beautiful," it meant, "Hey, Black is Beautiful in its Ownself!" We don't have to meet "white" standards of beauty; we are gorgeous as is! This was at a time when a black model on the cover of a mainstream (aka white audience) magazine was big news. Glamour magazine had its first black cover model, Katiti Kironde, with its August 1968 issue. The first African-American model to grace the cover of Vogue was Beverly Johnson, six years later, on the August 1974 issue. While no longer front page news, it's still the case that a cover model is more likely to be white than to be a person of color. 

Black Lives Matter never meant "Only Black Lives Matter," or "Black Lives Matter More," it meant "Black Lives Matter Just As Much, and We Are Saying So Because the Reality Is, as far as the System is concerned, They Don't!." 

How can I, a 66-year old white woman, experiencing the privilege that comes with whiteness, even when I know that privilege is unjust, how as an artist, sheltering in place, offer my support?  I can create artwork featuring people of color. It's an inadequate gesture, I feel. And, the question of appropriation comes to mind. But, it is the best gesture I can come up with right now.  

So here are a two recent portraits, based on photos posted by the subject herself on the Sktchy app for iPad/iPhone, both drawn freehand on my iPad Pro, using the Sketch Club app.

And, an older work, from 2011, a charcoal/pastel on sanded board, of my all-time favorite model, Brittany Anne, done from life in the studio.  She moved away awhile back, and I still miss drawing her.  She was really an extraordinary model, exuding strength, sweetness, power. She is probably the most beautiful woman I have ever met. And, yes, she has quite the petite ears!

As always, drawn freehand on my iPad Pro, using the Sketch Club app.

What a life! Mary Fields, known as Stagecoach Mary, was born into slavery in Tennessee circa 1832. After working for a convent for some time, she lost her job, apparently due to her bad temper. At the age of 60, the Postal Service awarded her the contract to be a Star Route Carrier, in which capacity, she drove a stagecoach to deliver the mail in Northern Montana. According to the Smithsonian National Postal Museum, this made her the first African-American woman ever hired for this job.  Six feet tall, carrying two guns, tough as nails, she carried the mail through all kinds of weather, protecting it from bandits.  She drank, she smoked, sometimes wore men's clothing, and by all accounts was much beloved in her community of Cascade, Montana.  Hollywood actor Gary Cooper recalled meeting her when he was 9 years old. For more on this fascinating women see:

Sheltering in place for me has meant staying home, with exceptions: walking the dog, going to the Farmers Market (masked and socially distanced) and getting coffee delivery curbside (again, masked and socially distanced).  When I want to draw a human subject, the only person handy has been my husband. So here, are three recent sketches of him at the kitchen table. As always, drawn freehand on my iPad Pro, using the Sketch Club app. Quick and spontaneous, not finished works.  But, I hope they still offer some charm.

The Old Masters have so much to teach us, if we will "listen," by standing in front of a great work of art, spending time with it, observing rather than simply looking.  The average museum visitor spends 15-30 seconds looking at a work of art. Spend two hours doing this, and you will leave visually exhausted, but having learned very little.  As the saying goes, "Don't drink water from a firehose." In our fast-paced culture, 15-30 seconds can seem like a long time, but, you have only, as it were, read the first sentence of a book, rather than even the first chapter.

The best way to slow down in front of a work of art and to actually remember it after you leave? Draw it, even if all the museum allows is one of those tiny "putt-putt golf" pencils. Here, sketching on a mobile device becomes a real plus, as you are carrying an entire studio with you.  I count three ways to approach the artwork: analytically, intuitively, and both.  I believe the greatest artists, such as da Vinci and Michelangelo, approached their own work using both analysis and intuition, but most of us lean strongly one way or the other.  Each method has advantages and disadvantages. The intuitive approach leads to greater spontaneity, but less accuracy; the analytical to more precision, but less fluidity.  Combine the two, and you do indeed have the potential to become a great master.

Personally, I lean strongly toward the intuitive. As I have always said, show me a preparatory sketch by a great artist and the finished work, I will choose the sketch every time.  I love seeing the artist's mind and instincts at work. I consider myself a journeyman draftsman, so to speak, who has an occasional breakthrough of brilliance, and then wonders, "How in the world did I create THAT!!!???"

Currently, in the midst of the pandemic, I find I am in one of the high risk groups for complications from the virus.  Even though the local art museum has reopened, albeit at 25% capacity, prudence dictates I stay home.  So, I googled one of the old masters, John William Waterhouse (1849-1917).  Not a name the average  person knows, but if you love the pre-Raphaelite painters, he is a must-see. Being more interested in drawings, rather than paintings, I found his Study for the Lady Clare, done in chalk and paper. Spending a little over an hour on my iPad, Apple Pencil in hand, I became absorbed in this lovely piece.  The resulting sketch is in no way an exact copy, but I so enjoyed working on it.  Here is the result. On the left, my 18-minute beginning, on the right further developed, total time a little over an hour.

For information and a reproduction of the original work, see www.wikiart.org/en/john-william-waterhouse/study-for-the-lady-clare

For an excellent article on looking at art, see this from the New York Times: www.nytimes.com/2014/10/12/travel/the-art-of-slowing-down-in-a-museum.html

And, as bonus, for Alfred, Lord Tennyson's poem "Lady Clare," see www.bartleby.com/360/2/226.html

And, when the pandemic crisis has abated, go to a museum, pick an artwork, and draw it for at least 20 minutes.  For now, we will have to settle for Google.
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#oldmasters #learningfromtheoldmasters
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You find the oddest things sometimes in the woods.  Things left behind, discarded, uncared for, broken, abandoned.  Here are a few recent ones I have found here and there. I find them evocative and beautiful, in their own way. We are all broken, to one degree or another, but beautiful in our brokenness.