Showing posts with label Acrylics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Acrylics. Show all posts

Pete's Plane—Hawaii


11x14, Acrylic on Linen Panel, © 2018
Private Collection

It's been some time since I've posted some work. This is a painting of a young man training to be a pilot in Hawaii between the wars, about 1935. I'd never painted a plane before and this was a challenge for that reason. The research for an historical painting is immense. It was from a black and white photograph and had to be recognizable as to the person.

View from the Window


 8x10 acrylic on canvas panel, © 2018
Collection of the Artist

This is a painting of the area where my instructor from college lived after I left Utah, and he had left the college. It is in the Hyrum Dam area. 
    I remember the significance of the area because when I was in pottery, the instructor had a slip that was called Hyrum Dam. She had dug up the clay to make the slip herself. That stuck with me; this moody painting reflects a distant past that cannot be visited again except in our memory.

Springville Strang House


12x12 oil on panel © 2017
Collection of the Artist

Nostalgia has a fascination as we can look at a scene, seeing how it was over 100 years before. Well, maybe that vision is only on the screen of our mind—at least until we put it in paint on a wooden panel. I have spoken before of taking a class and being productive. It was only once a week, and I had plenty of time to work on projects in between the class times. This was one such project. I had admired the home on 4th North in Springville and did some research as to the owner and construction, 1898. It stands as proud now as when it was new basking in the afternoon, fall light. It was fun to be carried back if only for a while to when there were not houses next door, and the street could be rutted by rain water and wagon wheels.

 

Mardean and the Big White House


5x7 oil on canvas panel © 2017
Collection of the Artist

Mardean Izatt as a two year old in front of the Big White House by the Side of the Road, in Thatcher, Idaho. Wind was blowing her tunic up.

 

Fletcher Cosmos

 


11x16 acrylic on canvas, © 2016
Collection of the Artist

A family up the street was one of the first to come into our new home and meet with us. They became special friends. When they left the city for a warmer climate, I passed their house and the Cosmos were in bloom. This struck me as the Cosmos, a galactic flower, bloomed in array as if in the heavens. We too are orbiting in the Cosmos. Are we as beautiful as these—thank you, friends, for being in our universe if only for a little time.

Deep Forest Fall


6x6 acrylic on panel, © 2016
Private Collection

I happened upon an image of a scene and interpreted it to be this small painting. In the fall of 2016 I exhibited it in a show. A friend who was helping with the installation saw the painting from across the room and told me she thought it was "stunning." That is not a word I often hear in conversation and was very meaningful to me. It was a work that came together rather easily and I believe that the freshness is what she related to. It must have been something that others related to as it was purchased. I sold two paintings in that exhibit—a novelty for me. I loved the painting and hope that whomever bought it loves it as much as I do.

New Mexico Chimesa

 


5x7 acrylic on canvas panel, © 2016
Private Collection

In 2012 we moved to Utah and made a journey to New Mexico to visit a relative. They were very gracious and took us around to see the sights. It was fall, and the Chimesa (Rabbit Grass) was in bloom. They were very striking to my eye. I didn't recall ever having seen them before, but I returned to Utah and they were all over in my neighborhood. It's funny that you can take for granted something close and have to make a trip to find that what you have next door is as beautiful as the same thing that you found in a far off place—the trip and its setting allowed you to have the sensitivity to see what is next door.

Forgotten Farm: Maple Street, Omaha


8x6 acrylic on panel © 2016
Private Collection

Sometimes you may drive down a street that you have done many 100s of times before, and you notice something out of the corner of your eye—a house nestled in the trees. You stop and take a picture of the event. Then years later you drive down that same street and there is a parking lot and stores where you once saw something terrific that stopped you in your path. So it was with this scene from Nebraska—an old farmstead forgotten by time. I painted it many years after the original event and took it to an exhibit and it sold. I didn't anticipate that someone might interpret the painting back to their reality and want it.

Mowing the Yard


16x20 acrylic on canvas, © 2015
 Private Collection

The man is resolved to accomplish a menial task. It is early afternoon, and the day’s work started with milking at 5 a.m. Now there is a moment to relax and let the horses do their job.
    Mowing the yard is a thankless task that must be done. Tired from the day, the man slumps on the mowing machine and lets the cleats of the wheels jostle him as they hit the hard ground and his thoughts turn to family and the supper that awaits at the end of the day. …or he may think of nothing at all, numbed by the forward movement of the mower and the relentless noise of the cutters—just relax and get this job done.
    The man is Charles Izatt; the place is his ranch in Thatcher, Idaho. The connection is that he is my wife's grandfather.



Rio Grande Gorge


24x36 acrylic on canvas © 2014
Collection of the Artist

My wife and I road tripped to New Mexico to visit her brother in White Rock. They were the most gracious of hosts and escorted us around to the sites that they had become accustomed to in the years of living in the area. Taos, Santa Fe, and Chaco Canyon were among those that we saw. We stopped for a vista of the Rio Grande Gorge that had been cut into the floor of the desert. It was fall, and the Chemesa were blooming. It was a beautiful day, a beautiful vista, and paint cannot not do it justice. 

 

Summer Poppies


10x8 acrylic on panel © 2014
Collection of the Artist

Driving down Center Street in Springville in the late summer afternoon, I had to stop. A house had poppies in bloom, and when the sun is just right the petals are luminously bright as if they were the source of the light. It was a quick stop, and now that we all carry a camera in our pocket, it was not hard work to capture a fleeting moment in time—memorialized in paint.

 

Parley's Pride


18x24 Acrylic on panel, © 2014
Private Collection

There are always firsts. This was a first for horses.  Well, almost a first. I sat by Antonio, a Native American, in third grade. He was great at drawing horses, and I always envied his ability.  Later I entered a "contest" on the "Sheriff Dan Show" and won a sewing machine for my grandmother. But I'll not count those as horses that would compare with this endeavor.  After watching horse pulls for hours, researching horse anatomy, and harnesses, I made the attempt. Dress harnesses are not the run of the mill harness, as they are much fancier and for show.
    I have always admired horses, even before the third grade.  Draft horses are powerful athletes and responsive to the occasion and the teamster. These horses have "performed" and are now pulling the owner, Parley, around the arena which has the purpose of settling them down after the Adrenalin rush of the pull. You can see the power in the arms of the man and can hear the loud speaker host announce the next event.  What a great day for a pull.
    The challenge of the painting was to have the sense of place not take away from the horses and man. They must remain supporting characters in the display—seeing into shadows and feeling the power and desire of the horse and master, so that the spirit of the event is present.
    The meaning of the painting is expressed best here:

From “Why I don’t call myself a ‘Mormon feminist,’” Deseret News, March 26, 2015 
…“Marriage in the temple was another reminder that we can’t receive every celestial blessing on our own. My new vulnerability was ultimately like closing the proverbial umbrella to receive a shower of heavenly blessings that sometimes even drenched and always sustained. 
    “Temple ordinances taught me that my husband needed me, and I needed him, and we both needed the Savior to succeed. Those truths parallel to daily drudgeries as well. When we don’t work as a team and when we don’t turn to God for guidance, our finances are a mess, we are less-than-our best in our careers and our children exploit any semblance of a divide. The opposite has proven to be true—not any easier, but true, nonetheless. 
    “My wise father grew up on a farm in southeastern Idaho where his father trained Clydesdale horses. His favorite parable for marriage is a team of horses that can’t move forward unless they are walking side-by-side and equally yoked. He also frequently counseled me, and many others, that marriage isn’t 50/50, but each must give a 100 percent in order to succeed. 
    “Last Christmas, my dad commissioned a painting of his father holding the reins of his draft horses during a horse-pulling competition at the fairgrounds. Every time I walk past the print my parents gave each of their children, I remember to share the yoke. But I’m also reminded how the Savior holds the reins and gives us gentle reminders when we stray from a progressive path.” —Stacie Duce (Parley's granddaughter) 

The Gap in Hobble Creek


11x14,  Acrylic on panel, © 2013
Collection of the Artist

We drove up Hobble Creek Canyon looking for a place to paint at a later time.  We were coming back down the canyon when the beauty of the moment was one that could not be ignored. We stopped and took a picture of the road and the gap.  It was not a place to set up an easel so I contented myself to paint it in the studio. What a beautiful place to live.

Hobble Creek Glow


11x14, Acrylic on panel, © 2013
Collection of the Artist

My wife and I went on a morning excursion up Hobble Creek Canyon—about five minutes from the house. French easel in hand I found a quiet spot not far from the road where I could observe the morning splendor and the sounds of nature.  Any day painting is a good day.

Spring Thaw


10x10 Acrylic on panel, © 2013
Collection of the Artist

We took a spring trip up Provo Canyon to a cabin above Sundance Ski Resort. Here we found a small stream fed by the spring melt. I took several photos of the last vestiges of snow as they filled the streams. A quiet, peaceful time walking in the brisk air enjoying the sounds of awakening.

Blue-water Waterfall


14x11 Acrylic on panel, © 2012
Private Collection

The Internet is a marvelous tool for obtaining instructional content. I have been enthralled by the resources offered for free. I signed up with WetCanvas.com, and as a result, I was offered an opportunity to be a student in live web classes that were recorded for subsequent paid distribution. The process put me "in touch" with Johannes Vloothuis from Canada. Johannes, a professional artist, offered insights that were significant to my development. I can no longer look at paintings without his "commandments" of painting coming to the front of observation. Although I went to art school, I never could make all the connections between what was taught and the application in a painting. Johannes has a way of integrating the two. I don't necessarily agree with everything, but that's because of too many years in art history. I do, however, appreciate him focusing my attention on 15 or so commandments—they tend to grow and morph over time.
    This painting was the result of a class assignment to paint a waterfall.  I had never painted waterfalls, so it was a challenge. I never submitted this one for critique, but I learned from the critique of others' works—we all make the same mistakes. Someone once told me, "If we were all to confess our sins to one another, we would be stricken by the lack of creativity." So it is with mistakes in paintings; we all make similar, if not the same ones—novice and professional. Professionals look for and correct them, while the novice goes on unaware of their existence. Johannes taught us to look critically at our own work and correct the mistakes—if not during the painting process, after our own evaluation. 
    I like this painting that was painted with my artistic license to make it "real" rather than realistic.

Way West



14x18, Acrylic on canvas, © 2011
Private Collection

In the Winter Quarters Temple there is a painting by LaVoy Eaton which shows the Platte River and Chimney Rock in the early evening. It is a beautiful painting that I have enjoyed each time I was privileged to observe it. For those not of Nebraska, you cannot see Chimney Rock and water in the same scene unless it is raining. Nevertheless, with artistic license in hand I made a sketch of the general composition of the painting and decided to take my brush in hand to make a similar painting after his. I chose to have it a little later in the day and with more color on the horizon. One should never paint something just before a webinar on painting skies. You always will find something to correct and then correct again. I loved living in Nebraska, and I had a Great Grandmother born in a wagon bed just down the road a bit during an overnight stop at Ash Hollow. There is always a story to tell along life's trail.

Bullfrog Basin


8x10, Acrylic on canvas, © 2011
Private Collection

In early June of 2011, Lauritzen Gardens, Omaha Botanical Center, sponsored a paint-out in the gardens.  Artists from all over the city showed up on a beautiful Saturday morning with portable easels in hand and paints at the ready. They each positioned themselves along the pathways to paint that which they found most inspiring. It had been a long time since I had painted plein air, so with some trepidation I set up my French easel and started painting. I soon discovered my folly as Marge deserted me for less intimidating places. I had forgotten mosquito repellent. What made me think that Bull Frogs would live where there were no mosquitoes. They don't! I had paint all over my face as I would swat at the dreaded creatures. Well, I didn't contract West Nile Virus or anything of that nature, but I am not sure that the thicker parts of the painting do not contain encrusted bodies of my observers.

Loess Hills, East of Logan, Iowa


8.5x11 Acrylic on panel, © 2011
Private Collection

One thing I like about painting—observation. Once you start the process of painting, your heightened awareness kicks in, and you see things differently. This doesn't just happen when you have a brush in your hand, but before and after. Subtle color changes and the value shifts used to create depth become beautiful in and of themselves. Marge and I struck out to find beauty on a late autumn day. We came across a back road—dirt, of course. Who knows where, but there it was—beauty of place. The moment is memorable as you see the beauty of color, value, line, and stroke. I can never go back to that place except in the painting. Photographs never seem to capture what is really there. Sure they are good for details of shape, but not color, value nor finding it again. Maybe a camera with a GPS would be good, but I don't know why; I have a painting.

Forgotten Bridge

9x12 acrylic on panel, © 2011
Private Collection

When exploring the obscure areas of Nauvoo, IL on the East bank of the Mississippi River, we found an area that was used to drain the swamp to make the city. It still functions to eliminate water but has long been forgotten as serving as a bridge also. Beauty is where you find it; be prepared.

Recognition: Won an Honorable Mention in the Omaha Artists' Winter Art Show