8-Mile Fishing Trip

21x25.75 acrylic on silk canvas, © 2019

Collection of the Artist

For several years I've been asked to paint a "family history" picture, and they may be seen as you peruse the Blog. This is the last one that was requested by my wife's sister, who passed shortly after its completion. It is a composite of an old photograph and discussions with my brother-in-law (seen behind his father) near the beaver dams along the 8-mile stream. This was a frequent location for the family to go on a fishing outing.

  As I walked the stream looking for a spot that might serve as an appropriate location, I came upon this area where I could imagine a father and son fishing—water, crystal clear and cold as it came out of the mountains above. The small black and white photo of a similar event was not  as clear or as telling as what I would wish, but I believe that the result of the interpretation of, research of place, and attire helped make it a successful painting.

 

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.

Edward Oliver and Susannah Lord

10x8, oil on canvas panel, © 2017

7x5, oil on canvas panel, © 2017

I've written about an oil painting class taken at UVU. Here are two more portraits completed during that productive time—my wife's great-great grand parents. They came from England and crossed the plains; and when their wagon axel broke on the plains of Nebraska, they wintered there—Edward's first wife Sarah, a family of seven children, and Susannah, the nanny. 

    In the Spring of 1861 they were to resume their trip west; however, Sarah and their seven children decided to stay in Nebraska and farm. After Edward and Susannah arrived in Utah, he settled in Sessions (currently Bountiful, Utah). Edward subsequently married Susannah, and they had seven children also. My wife is descended through one of these children.

    The paintings were done from small photos of the couple. Edward's was very high contrast. I made a polymer lift from the photo and painted the back, like a cartoon cell, and then finished the portrait in oil. Susannah's was done more the old fashioned way through brute force and awkwardness. 

 

Mardean with Izatt Homestead Cabin, Thatcher

8x10 oil on canvas panel, © 2017

Collection of the Artist

One summer day in 1970 I went on an excursion with Mardean Izatt to Charles Izatt's homestead cabin in Thatcher, Idaho. I painted the larger work of the cabin on the spot, but years later I painted this from a photo of Mardean in front of her father's cabin. It was a special time and a moment for both of us. She never saw this painting, but her daughter wanted it for her posterity.

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.

 

Mom's Wedding Dress

 

10x8 oil on canvas panel, © 2017

Collection of the Artist

I believe this to have been taken to commemorate the marriage to my father in 1935. I painted it in a class on oil painting. I like to get back into painting by participating in a class or some structured event when I've not been actively painting. The photo reference was black and white and the instructor, when he saw it, said good luck with the dress—the collar. Well when I finished it, he said, "genius." I think he liked 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.

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) 

Handwork #1: Friendship

8x10 acrylic on panel, © 2010

Private Collection

I have had an idea for a series of paintings—Handwork... . This is the first in the series; Handwork #1: Friendship. My granddaughter was making friendship bracelets, and I thought that would make an interesting painting. The Winter Art show came up, and I thought I would give it a go. I always see improvements, but for one who paints so rarely, I thought it turned out quite well.

Recognition: Won fourth place (of 70 exhibits) in the Omaha Artists' Winter Art Show.

Kimber

14 x 18 acrylic on canvas, © 2009

Private Collection

I'm no Leonardo, but I understand Leonardo. He was reported to have carried Mona Lisa de la Jaconde with him for some 30 years. If he were like me, I would look at it and think of things that I might change—not changing anything, but thinking about them. Well, Kimber was such a project. I started it some 10 years ago and painted it but never finished it. This fall the art club had an exhibit and in my alpha state, I thought, "I could finish that; it's been long enough." I painted on it again—almost redoing everything since the last time I almost redid everything. Now I don't know why I waited all that time; it turned out great—but I'm glad no one saw the intervening steps. It's all in the smile. Good job Leonardo!

Quince Rufus Pack

14x11, acrylic on canvas, © 2001
Collection of the Artist

We had a postage stamp size picture of Marge's great grandfather. It is a high contrast snapshot pasted in a genealogy book. I thought it would be great to bring him into color.

My Youth

16x20, acrylic on canvas, © 2000

Collection of the Artist 

Once in awhile inspiration comes from the dim recesses of the mind. This one came from a time our family went on a fishing trip to Henry's Lake. There were several photographs taken that day. I awoke one morning with the idea that I had to paint this piece. It is very autobiographical as I see myself shielded from the world and its entanglements that surround me. A great piece to bring to life.

The Fishing Trip

11x14, acrylic on canvas, 1986 

Private Collection

This painting is a historical picture of my parents before they were married—that was taken when they were on a fishing trip in Idaho. It was a fun picture to see and was also one that my father enjoyed immensely.

The Milk Run in Gem Valley

11x14, acrylic on canvas, © 1985
Private Collection

This is a painting from an historical photograph of my wife's mother and her mother, Orpha Izatt, at a neighbor's ranch. It was a favorite of a niece, and she wanted it painted in color. It was a fun piece to paint—all the gray wood. I submitted it to the L. D. S. Church competition. It passed the first jury but did not make it to the final exhibit.

When I painted it, I had finished everything but the face of the woman. My wife was concerned that I would not make it right and spoil the painting. I really just painted my wife's portrait as she looks so similar to her grandmother, and it worked out okay.

Untutored Beginnings, c. 1963/4

Man with the Straw Hat

18x24, oil on canvas, © 1964 

Collect of the Artist 

I learned from the first portrait and painted this second with properly prepared canvas. Before I learned not to use black, I used it to tint the colors. You can see it in the flesh colors. I believe it was Whistler who said that a portrait is a picture of a person with something wrong with the eyes. Enough said. 

Lady with the Straw, 1963

Oil on Canvas Panel, © 1963 

Collection of the Artist 

I learned as I painted the flesh color that black is not always the way to gray a color. It took some time for me to learn color theory of complementary graying, but I recognize the problems that black can cause if not used right. The hair was a challenge, and I used a pallet knife to apply the paint. It worked better than my brush painting of the hair. 

Autumn Forest

18x24, oil on canvas (unsigned) © 1963

Private Collection 

Painted as a developmental work from an illustration in a Walter Foster Book. “How to Draw and Paint Landscapes.” The painting is a demonstration of how to paint from photographs. The photo appeared in “Fine Prints to Copy or Frame.” Leon Franks interpreted the painting from the photo. This is my interpretation of the Leon Franks painting. 

Man with Bowler

18x24, oil on canvas, © 1963

Collection of the Artist 

One of my first paintings. A friend (Bruce Fisher) and I wanted to paint in oil. We bought some unprimed canvas. We did not know that you should put a barrier between the support and the oil paint. The oil has seeped into the fabric. It was very hard to paint as the paint kept soaking into the fabric. It has lasted 43 years, but I don’t want to put any pressure on the canvas as it seems brittle.

A Log Cabin

9x12 graphite on paper © 1962

Private Collection

Sometimes we stumble as artists and sometimes we succeed. As a young person, we have a tendency to draw what is before us, not necessarily what would make the best drawing or painting. It takes time to acquire that sensitivity.