Stlukesguild

As I'm looking forward to sending out information to various art galleries in search of finding gallery representation... and perhaps even selling my work... something I haven't don in about 5 years... I'm looking into moving away from the nudes (which are always have a more limited audience) toward clothed figures. Of course I am also intrigued with the added possibilities that clothing brings to the work.

The work is still heavily rooted in the iconography of icons and religious art and intended as an unabashed celebration of beauty, Eros, and spirituality. I maintain any number of sketchbooks in which I am continually jotting down ideas (visual and verbal). I often begin a work with one theme in mind, only to find that the work itself directs me along the lines to something else during the process. In this instance I began with three nude figures... the "three fates"... which eventually evolved into one nude figure ("Eve"?) and finally resolved itself as two clothed figures... a mother and daughter, perhaps. The working title is Presentation... as in the Presentation of the Virgin at the Temple... but that could quite likely change as the image suggests something else.

The final drawing, in terra-cotta pastel... took nearly three days (of course I am working quite sizeably... over 7 feet in height):



The more complex and detailed a work is, the more simple the overall composition or structure needs to be to hold it all together. Composition, in visual art, is rather like the formal structures of a poem: 14 lines to a sonnet, set rhyme pattern, meter, etc... In this instance there is an underlying ovoid composition:



During the drawing/compositional process structural lines run through the forms picked up by other details... the position of a hand... the angle of an arm, etc...



Once the composition and drawing is locked in, I begin the most time-consuming aspect of the work: mapping out and painting the tessellations.



One of my studio mates suggests that this process must hold something of a meditative element... hypnotic... like a mantra. I don't totally dismiss this notion. There is indeed something hypnotic to the repetitive structures of Arabic design, Gothic architecture or a Bach fugue. Of course I joke that this would be the first aspect of the paintings that I would subcontract out to assistants were I ever to start selling these. The process leaves my eyes spinning.

The tessellations demand that the space be gridded off... often through the figures themselves.



I tend to employ several different methods of perspective as opposed to the tradition Western method of linear perspective discovered by the great Renaissance architect, Brunelleschi. Instead, I draw upon perspective techniques employed by Byzantine, Persian, Medieval, and Japanese artists which intentionally flatten the image and stress the two-dimensional design elements.

At this point the painting is progressing rapidly. By the end of the first day of working upon the tessellations I have the black and white floor tiles and the red oval "carpet" complete, and the second layer of floor tiles are mapped out and the underpainting layer of terra cotta has been applied. I apply this reddish underpainting throughout the entire painting... allowing it to peek through in places... even sanding down upper layers. This helps to harmonize the colors over all.



At this point I begin the gold leaf. I employ the reddish (Georgia Red Clay) color beneath the gold as well, and will make extensive use of sanding to allow the red to show through. Once the red ground is applied, a tacky adhesive is painted on wherever the gold leaf is intended to be:



The gold leaf comes in 4" squares in books of 25 sheets each separated by a tissue paper to which the gold will not adhere.



The leaf is incredibly thin... the slightest motion in the air can cause it to curl up or float away. All the fans must be turned off and windows closed. As luck would have it, it was the hottest day of the year so far as I began this process.

I cut the gold leaf into pieces slightly larger than the triangular grids I need to cover:



The leaf is then roughly applied to the area with the adhesive:





Using a brush, the excess leaf is dusted away (it will only stick to the adhesive). Any remaining unwanted remnants can be scraped away with an x-acto blade. The edges are then tightened up with Prismacolor and pastel pencil lines:




continued...