Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Nick Gonzalez Artspan VL Studio Visit August 2013

In Germany, where I now live and work, I am considered a ‘traditional’ painter. It’s not a classification I’d personally use - to me, Traditional evokes concepts/techniques based on academic/and/or classical influence, (which I don’t much relate to), but here I realise, traditional simply means using paint in a more or less conventional way, and perhaps using subject matter based on an external visual reality. So, in an attempt to assist the reader, I could categorize myself as a Traditional Neo-Impressionist. “So, in an attempt to assist the reader, I could categorize myself as a Traditional Neo-Impressionist. That’s about as analytical as I get, for what it’s worth!”


I grew up on farms in the southern English countryside of Dorset and Hertfordshire - my father was a dairyman (he had originally hailed from Gibraltar, a very small rock in the Mediterranean Sea, without a single cow). My mother had attended painting classes at the London Central School of Art, but had to temporarily give up her artistic work for a busy family/farm life, post-war.

So the rich English rural landscape, with it’s seasons and skies, woodlands and rolling hills, are a fundamental part of my DNA, and now that I again live in the countryside (this time in Northern Germany), surrounded by quite similar landscapes that I was born into, I easily understand my deep affinity with the visual elements that inspire me. Although my current work is largely based on the sea, coasts and skies, it is all rooted in the British and French Schools of landscape painting, dynamic traditions which have been constantly refreshed and renewed over the years by many of the most gifted painters since.


I normally try to work on a series of paintings, often unified by subject/location. So in recent years I produced a series based on a local river, from stream through woodland, out to lake in center of Hamburg. Another project used the Downs landscape around my previous home in southern England. More recently I’ve concentrated on sea/coast and skies - I’m more and more drawn to skies for their ‘moody’ potential - and coasts without precise location, hoping to create ‘archetypal’ landscapes into which the viewer can enter. Although I use photographic reference and often simple sketches as a starting point, the painting develops a life of it’s own, and the final result can rarely be anticipated.

My materials and techniques are a combination of traditional and personal preference. I normally use ready-made canvases unless the work requires a large or unusual format, and I prime with a Gesso ground, sometimes working with a second Gesso coat tinted with acrylic color for ground base, and often adding more ground tone sometimes with texture paste with a large brush/and/or knife, working up the basic composition and areas and creating ‘accidental’ spaces/planes and textures which can be manipulated later. Often I will continue to work with acrylic color (sometimes only in monotone) to establish and develop the picture - the great thing I like about acrylics is the speed one can work and change the picture at will, and almost instantly alter things. Either I will complete the painting just in acrylics, or more often I will continue in oils. Glazing and painting over the acrylic underpainting is a variation on traditional oil painting practices, and I find it suits me fine. I use Windsor & Newton ‘Artisan’ Water Soluble paints - it means no turps odors in the studio, brushes can be washed in water and soap, and there is a variety of conventional mediums/oils which can be mixed with the tube oil paints which handle and perform (and even smell) just as normal oils.


For me, the forms that landscape painting come in, vary from high-realism to minimal abstraction, from poetic atmosphere to formal construction, from high drama to fleeting moments of subtlety. I do find that every painting has it’s own developmental journey - and the act of painting is a passionate process of making permanent those initial impressions and visions. My starting point is usually an emotional response towards a chosen subject, and my choice of ‘style’ or treatment varies accordingly. For me, the painting is not so much about a particular subject as it is about how that subject illuminates itself. Therefore, in terms of my technique, I do sometimes paint very rapidly and at other times there is a slow process of excavation. In any case, I’m always sustained by a sense of curiosity and wonder at the outcome, aiming to discover the ‘magical’ potential within each painting.

Of course, true alchemy is rarely, if ever achieved (and not for me to judge), but it is the pursuit of some rather-hard-to-define qualities that keeps me awake.

I have had a few months break from painting - we recently moved house and I’ve made a nice new studio with a view out to fields, farm and trees and a good patch of sky. As I begin work on a new series of canvases and drawings I am as excited and apprehensive today at sixty-four, as I can remember being at twenty-four, sitting with a sketchbook and watercolour box in the shade of a rock on the Spanish Costa de Luz, trying to make sense of too much light and colour, and understanding why Matisse painted mainly indoors in the Mediterranean! The adventure is unending, and I am eternally grateful for this benediction, however elusive and problematic.

Put simply, I love to paint, and I love what painting can be, both for me and in the work of other artists. And when someone enjoys a painting or drawing of mine sufficiently to part with a stack of hard cash, I never forget that the buyer could have used their money for a host of more practical purposes. It’s an affirmation that I don’t really seek, but am always delighted, and a little humbled.

                                                                                                                                          Nick Gonazlez

Monday, July 15, 2013

David Forks Visual Language Artist of Texas Studio Visit

Pursuit of My Dream

I have just started to learn this process of painting and it is abundantly clear to me that it will take a lifetime to figure out. There is nothing I can think of that is more rewarding and simultaneously puzzling. Rewarding for every stroke of paint I smack down with bold deliberate intent and puzzling for every one tentatively, hesitantly and unconvincingly smeared to the surface. Painting is my vocation and has become an integral part of my being, which I aspire to one day make my career. Oh the thought, what a blessed life it will be. My passion is landscape, and I am truly inspired by the rugged profound beauty of nature.

Though I will occasionally paint something different, it is the landscape that moves me and ignites the spark at the end of my brush. I am learning to see the landscape as a painting and not as a literal translation to canvas. I will add, delete or rearrange elements in order to create a better work of art. I think we all try to keep design, drawing, value and edges in mind while painting but my best work has been achieved while my intuition took reign of the brush, letting the vision steer the results. Once the knowledge is in place, It is the power of the subconscious to control the action. The more I can tap into this realm, the more spontaneous and proficient my painting process becomes.


© Dusk by David Forks
 I have recently become much more critical of my own work and rarely am I satisfied with the initial completion of a painting. I look at the work in progress and ask myself what I could do to make it better. When I started painting five years ago, I read Hawthorne and Carlson as well as books by other artists/authors and the message for the beginner was clear; I needed to cover acres of canvas and not worry so much of the results but learn from the process. For a few years it was quantity over quality. I did small, fast paintings almost everyday before work and wow, some were really bad. In spite of myself, I was determined to learn and get better and eventually there were those groundbreaking pieces when I just knew I took a step up that ladder to the next level! That was then, and at the time moving on from one to another was a must.  I have moved beyond that. Now it’s a more methodical and deliberate process of nurturing my paintings to completion. Being honest with myself is innately important in my self critique and growth as an artist. If you can’t look at your work and admit it is bad, there is no way to make yourself better.

© Moonlit Meadow by David Forks
As a painting progresses beyond the block in stage I constantly test notes by stepping back and seeing if they work from a distance. If not. I will remove or alter the passage until it is to my liking. Some works become wrestling matches but I am pretty stubborn, so I generally work them until I get what I want. On occasion I set them aside for another day or let them stew in the back of my mind until I have a clear vision for it. I have ruined many paintings by attempting to make them better, but I have also created some of my best works after risking them to the trash pile.



© Twilight by David Forks
Plain and simple, I love to paint. It satisfies my desire to create and I can enter a peaceful world of my own imagination away from the harsh realities of life as we know it. It comes from my heart and my soul which pours out of me every time I pick up a brush. I enjoy the challenge of problem solving and molding paint into form. I know I have a lot to learn and a long way to go but I feel like I am making strides in the right direction. I just want to be the best artist I can be and if by chance one day I am able to be self supportive doing so, well.... nothing would make me happier.
                                                                                               David Forks

Friday, July 12, 2013

Drew Keilback Canadian Fine Artist, VL and Artspan Studio Visit

Drew is a realist oil painter born and raised on the Canadian prairies. Drawing and sketching from an early age, he received his Fine Art training in Phoenix, Arizona. While there, he was deeply influenced by the contemporary Western painting style of the Southwest and to this day is an admirer of the works of Howard Terpening, Matt Smith and Mian Situ.


 Drew Keilback


When did you realize you loved art and wanted to be an artist?  Impossible to tell. Like most artists I’ve enjoyed drawing for as long as I can remember. I think drawing is a primordial means of communication and, as children, we instinctively pick up a pencil to convey our first messages. For some of us the ‘medium is the message’ and we continue on to become artists in all its different forms. 

Who has been your mentor, or greatest influence to date?  My mother encouraged me to move to Phoenix to continue my art training.  It was a revelation for me artistically, in that the light and palette were opposed to what I was used to on the West Coast. 

Who has been your mentor, or greatest influence to date?  The first painter that I can recall wanting to emulate was Howard Terpening.  His subject matter, then, as now, has always appealed to me and his style blew me away. I used to hunt out galleries in Phoenix and Tucson that carried his work in order to study them.

Who is another living artist you admire and why?  Lately I’ve followed the works of Tibor Nagy and David Shevlino.  Their brushwork is amazing and they both have a spontaneity and looseness that speaks to me. I know that there is a certain amount of abstraction there that I would like to start incorporating into my own.
© Galiano Boat by Drew Keilback

What is your favorite surface to paint on?  Canvas mainly and board if I want a bit more detail.

What is your favorite brand of paint to use?   Michael Harding oils.  

Do you have a favorite color palette?  My palette varies from painting to painting.  

When looking at your paintings, your work is diverse from outdoor landscapes, florals and seascapes to people. Why draws you to these different subjects; what are your inspirations for your work?  I’m a day to day painter. If something strikes me as being ‘paintable’ I paint it. I’m not making any particular effort to convey any philosophical or spiritual messages in my work. I look for composition and design in everyday things and tend to simplify all things down to basic geometrical shapes.  My overriding goal is to simplify or “abstract’ even further keeping a more “painterly’ effect and allowing the brushwork to speak.

How often do you paint?  Almost daily. 

© Rockies by Drew Keilback
What is the one thing you would like to be remembered for. As an honest person who lived a free and simple life void of any unnecessary complications. 


There are many culprits that can crush creativity, such as distractions, self-doubt and fear of failure. What tends to stand in the way of your creativity?  My career as a video composite artist for a major broadcasting corporation working with many varied and demanding clients taught me how to absorb and deflect criticism from all levels.  Corporations play by rules that must not be broken and though the producers tend to ask that you think ‘outside the box’, they become very nervous when you cross the line and they start building walls immediately crushing creativity in fear of their own failure. I’ve never feared failure as an artist because missteps are simply part of the learning process. Every painting is a failure in some sense.

How do you overcome these obstacles? Is much as I want people to enjoy my work, their appreciation is not what drives me. I paint for myself.

What is your favorite way to get creative juices flowing?  I take old paintings (or those I don’t like) and cut them up. Then I glue the pieces back on to a board in a random fashion creating an abstract design. It works – there’s a composition in there somewhere just waiting for a subject!

© Angel by Drew Keilback
Which work of yours is your favorite?  My favorite is always the one on my easel. 

Up Close and Personal

What book are you reading this week?  LONDON by Edward Rutherford.
Do you have a favorite televion show?  I have a short attention span for television unless it’s hockey or baseball. What is your favorite food? Chicken with curry.
What color sheets are on your bed right now? Without looking, I haven’t a clue. 
What is your favorite color in your closet? No favorites there.
What are you most proud of in your life?  The fact that I’ve had a career in a creative and artistic field that has led me straight into what I love doing the most.
Who would you love to interview?  Marco Polo. A true adventurer.

© A Leaf Fell by Drew Keilback
Do you have a passion or hobby other than painting/sculpting? History. 
Who would you love to paint?  My grandfather that I never met. 
If you were an animal what would you be and why?  A raven. Free flying, intelligent, mystical with a sense of humor.
If you were stranded on a desert island and could only take three things, what would they be?  (A pig, a knife and fork).  I think simply I would answer that this way – my sunglasses, a pencil and a bottle
Share something with us that few people know about you. In Grade 5 I was disciplined for drawing in my books (I guess the teacher thought our books were more about neatness than learning). And I flunked Art in Grade 12. 
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?  I would never leave the West Coast, but it would be nice to spend a little time each year on a Greek Island.
Anything you would add? I’ve copied a quote from an artist by the name of Ken Kewley that is by my easel … it says “In painting, you never do what you set out to do. Something else happens. Do not try to make a picture of something. Make something.”

I would also add that I’ve learned that by trying to copy or emulate someone else’s style you’ve restricted your own capabilities in unnecessarily confining yourself to something that may not be natural to you. Just let it flow. Just paint.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Studio Visit Maritime Artist Austin Dwyer Visual Language August Edition Vol 2 No 8

Studio Visit Maritime Artist
Austin Dwyer


I was born in Ireland in 1938. Looking back on my life, I remember imagining what I would be when I grew up.  Parents have their ideas for your future and mine were no different. At twelve, my father’s destiny for me was to become a tradesman. My mother, with a more romantic direction saw me as a great musician. Even my maiden aunt who lived with us, chirped in. I would be a sea captain as were all her male predecessors. I admit that I regarded the idea of exploration exciting, so I naturally turned to someone Irish. I read all that I could find on Sir Ernest Shackleton. 
I developed a very strong dislike for the cold.  I remember one cold wintry night, with empathy for those early explorers of the roaring sixties; I went to bed without my hot water bottle, an indulgence never repeated. 

Immersing myself in his memoirs and Antarctic expeditions, I was excited, imagining his 800-mile journey across a cold turbulent sea. Trekking across a mountain to reach South Georgia Island didn’t appeal to me. My ruminations suggested pictures of anxiety, all in the safety of my imagination. I soon realized that painting those images would be most challenging, and that I could share my images with people whose reading of these events might be enhanced by my paintings. 
So it was, at that early age, my ideas about becoming a fine artist were sown.  I would concentrate on becoming an illusionist. I did make every effort to oblige my father to become a bricklayer. I made an effort to please all of their suggestions. I built brick walls, floated floors, studied music, took a great interest in literature, studied art and went to sea. My travels finally brought me to America where I immediately joined the USAF. At last, I could explore the South Pacific from the comfort of a C-124 Globemaster

SEATTLE WASHINGTON, THE EARLY SIXTIES

Upon my discharge from the military, I met Mig Peters and fell madly in love. After she finally consented to marry me, I decided that it was time for me to settle down. Together we created 8 wonderful children, 23 grandchildren and 3 great grand children. After we were married, I decided to continue with my art education and studied at the Burnley School of Professional Art. After graduation I taught there for 14 years. In 1968, I developed my own advertising agency. I was an illustrator during the day, returning home to my studio where I finally painted what I dearly loved, marine art.

The paintings in this article involve just 4 of Shackleton’s ships and a lifeboat, the Caird. The Endurance, Nimrod, Aurora and the Quest, would have been nothing more than plates of steel, wood, twisted tar lines and bales of cloth had it not been for Ernest Shackleton and the men who served under him. It is their story that gave these ships character and soul.

ENDURANCE

© Endurance Open Sea Austin Dwyer
The Endurance, built in Norway for polar conditions, was 44 meters long with a 7.6-meter beam. Her forward mast was square rigged while her two after masts carried fore and aft sails. Her steam engine was 350 horsepower giving her over 10 knots. Unfortunately, Endurance was not designed bowl-bottomed, rather she was more vertical-walled which may have contributed to her being crushed and not popped up by the ice. I painted her in the Weddell Sea under sail. Later I show two crew members sounding ahead of the ship. She finally headed into the ice pack and eventually I painted the evacuation.
© Endurance In the Ice by Austin Dwyer
 On August 6th 1914, Endurance sailed for the southern regions to the Weddell Sea. Shackleton’s quest was to circumnavigate the South Pole. She sailed through heavy ice pack and on January 18th after weeks of intense weather, Endurance was completely compressed in the ice pack. She drifted for months, locked in the ice, the final pressure crushing her beam until her bow slowly lowered beneath the sea. Shackleton and 27 men gathered supplies, lifeboats, and 69 dogs and set up camp on Elephant Island.

THE CAIRD
© The Caird by Austin Dwyer
Shackleton chose the Caird, which was the strongest of the three lifeboats and most likely to survive an 800-mile journey to South Georgia Island. It would prove the survival for the rest of his men. She was only 22 feet and converted to a sailboat by the chippy that reinforced the hull, added a main and mizzenmast, a deck and a rudder. She encountered hurricane wind and tumultuous seas. It took 17 days and was the most arduous open-boat journey of all time. 

THE AURORA
© The Aurora by Austin Dwyer
Shackleton returned to the area on the Aurora to rescue the rest of the crew. Aurora was a Barquentine with a 98 horsepower engine. She had a strongly built wooden hull. Her bow had been re-enforced with heavy steel plates. I painted her having the rudder repaired after being damaged by a storm. 

The Chilean government loaned Shackleton a steamer named the Yelcho and on August 30, 1917. All the men were rescued.

THE NIMROD

© Nimrod by Austin Dwyer
The Nimrod was built for whaling and seal hunting.  She had an auxiliary steam engine with a top speed of 6 knots. The Nimrod was painted depicting Shackleton’s arrival at Cape Royd’s hut on Ross Island. The hut was built as a stopping off point to the south. The painting describes Mount Erebus, Antarctica’s second highest volcano and the transferring of supplies to the hut just before a fierce storm hit the bay.

THE QUEST

© The Quest by Austin Dwyer
The Quest was a steamer and schooner rigged. She was 34 meters long with a beam of 7.3 meters. She was involved in meteorological and geological research. Shackleton’s last days of exploration were on the Quest for it was here that he suffered a fatal heart attack. The date was the January 5, 1922.



CONCLUSION

 As a young man, I lived vicariously through these sea voyages of Sir Ernest Shackleton. I will never allow my imagination to forget that there is still so much more to paint.

2014 marks the 100-year anniversary of Ernest Shackleton’s journey to the Antarctic. I am fortunate and proud that these paintings will be displayed in Dublin (my home town) as part of a permanent exhibition on Shackleton. I have come full circle.             Austin Dwyer

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Jason Tako Contemporary Landscape Artist Featured in Visual Language Magazine August 2013 Vol 2 No 8

Jason Tako
Contemporary Landscape Artist

Sometimes great things can come out of tragedy. Sometimes we learn more of who we are through suffering and trial. Any successful artist has to pay his or her dues; to work hard and go through a good number of failed paintings before they discover their artistic voice. And sometimes the struggle can be something not directly related to art, yet it can still have an impact on our art.





Born in the early 1970’s, and raised in rural Minnesota, landscape and wildlife artist Jason Tako discovered his artistic talent around Fourth Grade.  Jason reflects, “It was autumn and our teacher drew a Cornucopia on the chalkboard, and we had to draw it. Mine turned out the best and received praise both from my teacher and classmates.”  Jason continued to excel at art throughout school; this was demonstrated by winning Second Place in a state-wide illustration competition. However, in his senior year, he stopped drawing and painting altogether and dived head first into becoming an electric bassist.


After graduating with honors from music school, Jason continued to play in rock, jazz and country bands. Eight years later, after growing tired of smoky bars, he went through a couple life transitions. First, Jason rediscovered his Christian faith, and eventually converted to Catholicism. Not long after this, he again felt a desire to start drawing and painting. Jason recalls,“I didn’t know what I was doing; I just kept going out and filling as many sketchbooks as I could. It was suggested I go to art school, but at the time it seemed they only taught modern art, and I was into representational art. I figured that if I kept sketching, something good would eventually come out of it.”

Things did start to happen. After several years of sketching the wildlife and wetlands of Minnesota, Jason married his wife Becky and moved to Pennsylvania. Removed from the natural surroundings that he was used to, Jason then worked on his watercolor and oil painting technique. He eventually started winning awards at national shows like The Waterfowl Festival, the Society of Animal Artists Annual Show, and Plein Air Easton. Despite this success, he felt he still had a lot to learn. This drove him to seek instruction from world renowned landscape artist Scott Christensen. “Scott helped me tie up the loose ends in my work. His workshop, as well as the trip out to Wyoming inspired me in so many ways.” That year, Jason took two major awards at Plein Air Easton, was published in Plein Air Magazine and Western Art Collector Magazine, and was also told the joyful news that his wife Becky was pregnant with their fourth child.

It was not long after this that Jason, Becky and their children went through the most difficult time of their lives. When their son was born everything seemed fine. But the next day it was discovered that he had some medical problems that might require surgery. This was the start of an eight month hospital stay that included multiple pediatric surgeries, and a couple close brushes with death for his infant. “There were times of terror, and times when it seemed we would never get to go home with our son. Eight months is a long time to be in a hospital. We basically just went back and forth from our son’s room to the cafeteria day after day. Since we were 2 hours from home, we didn’t see our other children very often. I did try to do a few paintings in my son’s room, but I was not feeling very inspired. The only landscape I saw on a regular basis was the Philadelphia streets; and I’m not an urban painter.”


Despite the lack of inspiration, Jason still was able to attend and win awards at several plein air painting events that summer, including Second Place at both Mountain Maryland Plein Air and Easels in Frederick, and First Place in the Plein Air Camp Hill Quick Draw competition.

 In early December the Tako family was finally home and together again. With the exception of several plein air painting events and a few day trips, Jason had missed painting spring, summer, and autumn of 2012. “We were home and I was ready to paint, but I didn’t have much reference to paint from. I used to paint more tonally, almost monochromatic at times, with a preference for overcast lighting, but after going through such an ordeal I wanted to paint more color, something more joyful. But much of the reference I had was from my tonalist days. And here it was, early December, with the colors of spring still months away.”

When spring finally came Jason headed out to paint. The first place he focused on was a goldmine of subject matter, the apple orchards in Adams County, PA; miles of rolling hills and mountains lined with rows of apple trees and scattered barns. “Originally I went just to paint a full moonrise coming up between the twisting apple tree branches. There was hardly any foliage at that time, so I returned for several weeks to do further studies of the leaves and blossoms as they developed. It wasn’t long before more painting ideas developed. One particular day was almost magical. I climbed a hill and walked into several long rows of apple trees with foliage and blossoms that formed a tunnel filled with dappled sunlight and shadows. Through the openings you could see the purples and blues of the distant hills. I sat down and spent the afternoon creating multiple field studies of the area. In these studies I captured the light and color in a way I never had in the past. It was a big leap for me artistically. My goal now is to continue on this path and explore all the options this has afforded me.”

“I have learned that when growing as an artist, you hit a point where you need to throw off the over-influence of other artists, as well as the concern of what other people think. While these things may never totally go away, you need to reach a point where you can honestly say, ‘This is who I am, this is how I paint.’ You need to reach a point where you feel your art has meaning for yourself and others. I think that all that time in the hospital, and the incredible heartache of watching my son go through so much pain and yet overcome the odds against death, forced me to look within myself in many ways.  Among this was to consider who God created me to be and what life really means. This spilled over into who I am as an artist. While the pain of what my son and family went through will be with me for many years, I hope to be able to take some good from it and create art that will bring joy to a hurting yet beautiful world.”
Jason is currently working on creating studio paintings from this group of field studies he created this spring. 

His work can be viewed at his website www.jasontako.com and on his blog at www.weeklyoilpainting.blogspot.com.