… and yet achieved so little. That’s just the way things sometimes go at the easel. I’d hauled out a drawing on panel of the blind Saint Hervé and his wolf… this being a subject I’ve been drawn to rather a lot over past few years… but it was all uphill struggle today and so I’m feeling disheartened. I’ll try again tomorrow.
The first Hervé painting I did is not on my website and so I thought I’d post it here, given that the Saint is back up on my easel again. I don’t have a very high resolution image of this and so I fear it won’t enlarge should you click on it. It belongs to my friend Philippa Robbins, which means I get to see it from time to time.
A simpler approach in this study for the painting.
You can see three more Hervé and the Wolf paintings, Furious Embrace, The Blind Boy and his Beast and Leap, here.
Clive, sorry you had a discouraging day — and boy, do I know what that feels like! (As do our partners, I’m afraid!) The good thing is learning that we just have to keep at it, that productive days will follow. It’s especially hard when a deadline looms.
I looked at the earlier paintings – very interesting how you’re grappling with different versions. One thing I especially like about the latest one is the square frame and the way you’ve set the composition within it (that positive/negative space thing again) — but also, by being like a box or cage with the figures crouched in it, the square emphasizes the solitude and intensity of their relationship. Don’t know if that’s what you intended, but that’s what comes across here. Good luck in the next session!
Hi Beth. Peter looked very rueful when i reported your comment about ‘partners’! He knows whereof you write. Oh dear!
I’m inclined to worry at my subjects to make sure that I get the most from them. It seems to me that good stories can be interpreted in many different ways and I’m reluctant to let go until I’ve wrung the best out of the ones I choose to work with. I return repeatedly and over long periods to the stories that stick in my imagination.
I’m glad that you like the square compositions. The square format is one that really engages me, though I rarely see it used elsewhere other than by illustrators. And yes, I’d agree with you that the frame heightens a sense of intensity and isolation implicit in the tale of Hervé and the Wolf. Well spotted.
I think I am having one of those days, too.
It’s a comfort to know I’m not the only one who struggles. This work we do Dave… writing and painting both… springs from much time spent alone. When the process becomes effortful with little of merit to show for it, the life can be pretty isolating. Just at the moment I’m pressed for time because of the approaching exhibition deadline. I can little afford non-productive hours in the studio. I keep telling myself that the unproductive hours are not in fact wasteful but necessary parts of the creative process. But damn, do they cause ill-ease when they settle like a pall!
Dave I know things will improve for you shortly. Keep at it. There will be light!
Boy, do I ever know what you mean. Some days it is just like cruising along, and other days it is impossible to feel good about anything I do.
I truly loved your post yesterday about your pony falling asleep on your shoulder. That was so sweet.
Have a happy new year!
These paintings truly are beautiful, so something did happen. Whether it felt good while it was happening, well..I totally know what you’re talking about.
I know it’s not just me though it can feel that way alone in front of the easel. My friend Philippa and I often compare with each other who has ‘painted out’ the most work at the end of a working day. (‘Painting out’ is the artist’s act of destruction after a bad day at the easel, when a fresh coat of paint is applied to obliterate the evidence of hideous struggles and leave a clean sheet for starting afresh the following morning.) Actually I often leave off painting out until the next day, so that I can better judge what had seemed disastrous when I was tired and disheartened. In fact Philippa is a wonderful painter and I’m forever at her to hold back with the painting out when she gets discouraged. Even her bad days produce work of great merit, but she’s very tough on herself. Well I guess I’m tough on myself too. We’d do better each to let the other edit our work as I’m sure more would survive that way.
I’m pleased that you like these earlier Hervé paintings. Now I must go back up to the studio to see what I can make of yesterday’s muddle on the easel.
I should explain that Pip is not my horse but belongs to my friend Stephanie. Pip lives here as we have a paddock together with loose-boxes for her shelter and tack that would otherwise be going to waste. I get all of the pleasure of seeing her every day without the responsibility of ownership. Jacket and Pip are my company during working days. When all is disaster in the studio, then a walk around the grounds with Jacket, stopping off with a carrot or an apple for Pip, puts things into much better perspective.