Author: BBCo

It began back in November with our iModannari after Rothko who  thought that the greatest paintings were the ones that captured a moment of stillness. What better way to enter into the Thanksgiving season.

Rothko painted rectangles. But he blurred the edges so the shapes seem to float. the saturations of color he offers seem veiled somehow, adding to the contemplative nature of his work.

He was born at the dawn of the 20th century in Latvia and when he was ten his family emigrated to America. Later he studied painting at Yale University and then became part of "The Ten"— a group of expressionistic artists who rallied behind abstract art.

After returning from the Thanksgiving break, we didn't have the heart to white out the sidewalk patch dedicated to iModinnari, so artist-in-residence, Taylor suggested we try a mashup.

In steps El Greco—painter sculpture, architect of the Spanish Revolution. Born in crete in 1541, and trained to become a master of Byzantine style art. But, as with all legendary artists, he soon departed from that style, breaking rules to bring shape to a voice that is uniquely his own. His expressionistic, dramatic style influence the likes of Picasso, and reached into the work of Rothko.  

Are you catching the vision? Use the Rothko as the backdrop to host our interpretation of the El Greco.

The result is miraculous! Took my breath away. The students were able to capture something of the El Greco, while simultaneously letting the Rothko shine through.

Chalk pastels, a willingness to get your hands dirty, and the patience to look closely to discover how shapes and lines, and darks and lights work together to communicate an idea—that's all there is to it. You, too, can make a mashup. Step outside and give it a try. And if the weather outside is frightful, find a large piece of cardboard (the size of a refrigerator box works great), prep it with a couple coats of white tempera paint, and off you go!

 And keep Rothko in mind as you do: “Pictures must be miraculous"

Enjoy the miraculous process of making art. 

-Kim

It's December in California, so we took to the great outdoors to tackle a master class. The mentor? None other than Fra Angelico. 

Before tackling this Fra Angelico project, take a bit of advice from Leonardo: "It's easier to resist at the beginning than the end."

Even though this project looks extravagant, you will be able to resist the urge-to-resist at the beginning if you take the time to look.

Look closely at the top of the "canvas" where the profile line begins. Is it directly at the half-way mark, or closer to two-thirds? Trace the profile contour as it gently falls in a curvilinear manner toward the bottom left-hand corner.

When placing the eye, look at where it sits on the "page" in relation to the forehead and nose. How many fractional parts does the eye represent. In other words, how many eyes would fit in a line from the left-hand edge and the bridge of the nose?

What kind of curve is the eyebrow? And what kind of strokes is it made of.

Look at the color of the lips. Notice how the color is used to warm the cheeks with a soft smudge.

Ask and look. Continue to ask and look.

If you do, you will have conquered the most difficult part of the project at hand. Drawing is more about engaging in the process of looking than anything else. Beginning at this beginning will embolden you to press in to the end. 

This work began by students blocking out a great section of our Guild courtyard patio (5 by 6 feet). Next they painted the entire space with white, water-based tempera paint to create a canvas of sorts upon which the drawing could take shape. Next, the students studied the placement of the line that divides the drawing— the great contour of the angel's silhouette. And when they were certain of the line, the laid it down using a flesh-toned soft chalk pastel. They continued drawing and shading the profile, using their hands to smudge and soften details. Once satisfied with the angel, the students painted the great halo using gold tempera.

After three hours of joyful focus, the work took on incredible detail, materializing on the cement with the depth of an oil painting and the essence of the original.

So begin at the beginning and enjoy the persist. Persist straight through to the end!

-Kim 

Celebrate the many colors of Wassily Kandinsky and practice the math of concentricity in the process.

Kandinsky connected color to sound. What an awesome metaphor: "The sound of colors is so definite that it would be hard to find anyone who would express bright yellow with bass notes or dark lake with treble notes." 

For this project, mix up jars of brightly colored paints that would make the treble notes sing with delight. We used Kandinsky's palette as a starting point:

Always remember that the colors you mix will be so much more interesting than the colors straight from the tube. For example, when mixing red, add a splash of yellow to move it towards red orange, then mix a drop of the opposite of red orange, blue-green to tame it down a bit. 

When you are ready to paint, think outside the box. This project could certainly be accomplished on canvas, but we decided to pick up some eucalyptus slices at our local craft store to create a puzzle-like effect.

After the project is completed, step back from the work and you will see, when it comes to art, Kandinsky is right: "Everything starts from a dot."

-Kim

Claude Monet's birthday was a November celebration. Imagine the Impressionist in his garden, over 100 years ago, painting something wonderful.

 After reading A Blue Butterfly by Bijou Le Tord, I set my students free to watercolor butterflies in all shades of blue. Of course I had pre-cut the shapes so that all the focus would be on the blue anticipating poem-making.

Prompting students to write a singular butterfly statement and then to treat that sentence apart we soon created a wonderful kaleidoscope of butterfly line-break poems.

You can too. 

-Kim