Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Physiognomy

-By Dan dos Santos


Physiognomy is the assessment of someone's character or personality from his/her outer appearance, especially the face.



At one time, Physiognomy was treated as a science. So much so, that French painter (and Art Theorist) Charles Le Brun, explored the concepts of Physiognomy to great extent.















Today we know that there is very little basis for these assumptions, and Physiognomy, like Phrenology, has been lumped into the category of Psuedo-Science. But Physiognomy still plays a very important role in art.



How do we first know who the bad guy is in a film? Rarely through his actions, but rather, through Physiognomy. For we often know who the villain is just by looking at them. The villain has the facial hair, the long face, the pointy fingers, the beaked nose, the small eyes, etc.



Monday, July 16, 2012

Kalimpura

-By Dan dos Santos


A few months ago, you may remember me mentioning that I was working on a large painting, and really trying to loosen up. Well, I finally finished the painting, and though I didn't loosen up quite as much as I had hoped, it was still a really fun experience.



The job in question was 'Kalimpura', the third installment in Jay Lake's 'Green' series. In this volume, the antagonist packs up everything, including her two children, and ventures back to her home country.



The idea of a single mother, with all of this burden quite literally placed upon her, really struck a cord with me. Given that she is an assassin, I immediately had visions of Lone Wolf and Cub. I knew I had to show her as a Warrior Mother, protecting all that was precious to her.





Here are two alternate sketches that weren't chosen. One has a little more action. The other, more mystery. Ultimately, the Art Director chose a sketch that I felt was a good balance of both these themes, and accentuated the importance of the 'journey'.



The themes, and local, of this novel had a notably 'Orientalist' feel to them. Thinking along these lines, I wanted to paint something full figure, outdoors, with a strong sense of spacial atmosphere.





The trouble with painting loose, is that it means I have to paint a lot larger than normal, or I just can't get the necessary amount of detail in the face that my clients expect of me.







Logistically speaking, painting big usually isn't great for deadlines. It simply takes more time to cover that much surface. Plus, there's a lot more STUFF to paint. In this case, it took me about a week and a half longer than I normally would spend on an illustration.



I started with an abnormally loose underdrawing, in the hopes that it would force me to loosen up some. And it did... a little. But ultimately my OCD got the better of my intentions, and I ended up rendering everything way more than I should have.



In the end (and I say that reluctantly, as I feel like I can keep working on it forever), I'm fairly happy with the result. I tried a lot of new things that were out of my comfort zone, and discovered a LOT of weaknesses that I now know I need to work on.



Below is the final product, and how it looks with type treatment alongside the others in the series.





The Secret

-By Arnie Fenner




A common question students ask is, "How do I become a better artist?"



The answer is easy, even if it sounds flip: "Work. Study. Experiment. Think. Try to connect with an audience. Work harder."



The other most common question, whether asked directly or in a round-about way, is "What is the secret to being a successful artist?" Success meaning, for the sake of this post, being able to make a living creating art.



And that answer, too, is easy:



There isn't one.



Muddy Colors has run some absolutely stellar posts in the past about portfolio construction or social media promotion or expanded educational opportunities. Read this, experience that, try this approach, discard that one: all of the advice is solid and worthwhile.



But there is no single formula for success: there's no list that, once checked off, ensures...anything.



The hard truth is that it's an extremely competitive market for painters, designers, illustrators, and sculptors, with lots of people with similar skill sets vying for the same jobs or gallery space. Technology has had both a positive and negative impact on the arts, on the one hand broadening exposure opportunities for creators and on the other devaluing art by making it seem both common and "free" (at least when it comes to the Internet). Societal shifts have impacted the retail environment which often can (and does, as we're seeing now) translate into less work for artists: many traditional avenues for creatives have either constricted or disappeared entirely while those that do remain have increasingly used price as a deciding factor in who and what they use for their goods, not quality. Political strife and economic uncertainty cause corporations to sit on their wallets rather than open them for new employees or for more experimental work or for sponsorship of the arts in general. Andy Warhol once said, “An artist is somebody who produces things that people don't need to have.” I don't agree: I believe that art (and thus the artists), regardless of the myriad forms it takes, is important to a more rounded, more fulfilled life. (That's a conversation for another day.) But even as I don't agree with Warhol (who made significantly more money in his lifetime than I ever will, which means he must've known something), I know from having worked in the corporate world for over 35 years that when times are tough, the artists (and the work they produce) are among the first the bean-counters deem expendable. (Partly because the business execs don't understand how we artsy fartsy folk think, partly because they're too dim to value what they themselves can't do. If you see a corporation struggling or failing outright, much of their problem has to do with an inability to appreciate creativity and the creative thinkers who work for them. The more polite term for them is "Philistines." The impolite, but more apt term is "Dumbshits.")



It's a tough world. And there's no such thing as "fair." I know artists that struggle to pay their bills and secure work who ideally should be courted and revered by clients and the public; I know other artists that have so much work they're booked years in advance. Why is this guy hot and the other guy with similar abilities not? Oh, I'm sure with some thinking and sussing, some things might be pointed out or some opinions offered, but really...there's no predicting who gets invited to the feast and who is left on the outside looking in. And for those who do achieve a measure of success...it's not always easy to maintain. Styles and trends and tastes change without notice and the artist (while remaining true to themselves) has to change with them.



Because there's no single secret to becoming a successful artist—or staying one.



Truthfully, when it comes right down to it, it should be obvious. Success hinges on the answer to the question opening this post: Work. Study. Experiment. Think. Try to connect with an audience. Work harder.



Plus one other important thing to mix in: Network. Talk to people. Don't hole up in your studio and not interact with your fellow artists. Art can not created in a vacuum. Reading and maybe posting on a blog or website or on Facebook or Twitter are not substitutes for sitting across from your peers, looking in their eyes, and sharing experiences over drinks. Get the hell out of the house every so often and meet the people you respect and admire and who are doing the same things that you want to be doing. Don't avoid conventions or classes or workshops because they're "too far away" or "cost too much" or "I don't fit in." Any expense may result in some temporary belt-tightening, but it almost inevitably pays off in the long term. Don't be a wallflower when social opportunities arise. Don't wait for others (and this includes art directors, publishers, patrons, and gallery owners) to come to you: reach out to them. Grow your circle—in person—just as you grow your skill set. The more people you know, the more people will know what you do and what you're able to bring to the table. And the more experiences you have, the more you interact with others, the more your artistic sensibility will grow and, in a perfect world, the more unique and, possibly, in demand your work will be.



Hmmm. Maybe that is a secret. If so...consider that cat has been let out of the bag.

Friday, July 13, 2012

I'm Too Dumb to be an Artist

-By Tim Bruckner




(Note: the images associated with this writing have virtually nothing to do with its content and appear simply because, I like them)



I recently picked up a few copies of “art” magazines. After reading a couple, I realized that I am too damn dumb to be a real artist. Real “art” is described in terms like:



“A complicit satire of the art market, or worse, as an example of condescending spectatorship.” 

Or a work of art can be “fastidiously carefree.” 

Apparently, “the female form speaks of castration and nothing else.”







Sounds a little scary to me. But, looking at a bunch of images of real “art”, it turns out that some of it is a little scary. One well known artist builds a sculpture, live, using a saw horse and rendered lamb parts. I’m way to dumb to think about sculpting like that.





Clearly, the kind of stuff I like and the kind of stuff I make isn’t art. If I were to sculpt a portrait of Michael Jackson decked out in his Thriller costume, at best, it would be an example of proficient craft. But, if I have a team of craftsmen create a portrait of Michael Jackson in porcelain and gold leaf cuddling up with a chimp, well, that there’s art.





Nothing of mine has ever been described as an “image that contextualizes the larger narrative of national history with its attendant traumas.” And, I’m not sure I’d want that description applied to one of my pieces, since I’m really not sure what it means.





I had to read this one a couple of times. “Black lines frame some of the compositions to deadpan effect, paradoxically delineating the non-image.” When I think of deadpan, I think of Buster Keaton.





Some things I make because I like the way they look. Some things I make just to see if I can. Many of the pieces I create are about me, my friends, my family and the human condition as I experience it. My human condition would be hard pressed to be described as “cheeky dubiousness of ambivalence.”



I have never, to my knowledge, sculpted anything containing or referring to a node. A work by a celebrated painter contained “nodes of a feathery density.” Feathery density? Is that like light heaviness? Beats me. The same artist was able to do away with “alloverness in favor of asymmetrical knots of activity.” Two things struck me about that. I didn’t know “alloverness” was a word, let along one word, free of hyphens. And “asymmetrical knots of activity” sounds like something you’d need to take an antibiotic for.





I put a great deal of value in craft. But craft on its own is just skill. Which isn’t to say that a profound level of skill isn’t art. But a high level of craft at the service of an ideal is about all I need from art. But I’m kind of simple.



A work of art “whose formal strength hinges on its violation of pictorial cohesion” seems a little like describing the Emperor’s New Clothes as having a "Wagnerian petulance exhibiting the dichotomy inherent in its formalness.” I made that last bit up. But it sounded good. And I bet, somewhere, to someone much smarter than me, it made sense.



One of my all time favorite artists (and I use the term as it applies to not-real art) is Gil Elvgren. Big strike number one: he painted pin-ups. Big strike number two: he painted art for billboards and advertising. Big strike number three: a lot of people really liked his work. He had mad skill. He was a brilliant designer. A clever story teller. And the guy knew women. He was never crass or condescending. His work may seem a little simple and unsophisticated. A man after my own heart.







Seems to me, being a little dim, that art needs to hit close to the heart and deep into the imagination. Too much brain can get in the way. And if it starts there, and seems not to able make the last leg of the journey, its just as much commentary as it is anything else. This isn’t to say that commentary can’t be art. It most certainly can be and very often is. But without a little sweat, belch or fart, it’s like explaining love, heartache and empathy with a graph and a pie chart.



Back, several decades ago, I had late-night bar conversations much like this. “While devoid of symbolic content, the artist’s paintings – like the abstract cosmological art of India and Tibet – focus both the eye and the mind, conflating the minimal object with the meditative.”



The difference being, I was usually drunk and would have probably forgotten it by morning.



The Golden Apple-tree and the Nine Peahens



By Petar Meseldzija







Once upon a time there lived a king who had three sons. Now, before the king's palace grew a golden apple-tree, which in one and the same night blossomed, bore fruit, and lost all its fruit, though no one could tell who took the apples. One day the king, speaking to his eldest son, said, " I should like to know who takes the fruit from our apple-tree." And the son said, " I will keep guard tonight, and will see who gathers the apples." So when the evening came he went and laid himself down under the apple-tree upon the ground to watch. Just as the apples ripened, however, he fell asleep, and when he awoke in the morning there was not a single one left on the tree. Whereupon he went and told his father what had happened. Then the second son offered to keep watch by the tree, but he had no better success than his eldest brother.



So the turn came to the king's youngest son to keep guard. He made his preparations, brought his bed under the tree, and immediately went to sleep. Before midnight he awoke and looked up at the tree, and saw how the apples ripened, and how the whole palace was lit up by their shining. At that minute nine peahens flew towards the tree, and eight of them settled on its branches, but the ninth alighted near him and turned instantly into a beautiful girl so beautiful, indeed, that the whole kingdom could not produce one who could in any way compare with her. She stayed, conversing kindly with him, till after midnight, then, thanking him for the golden apples, she prepared to depart ; but, as he begged she would leave him one, she gave him two, one for himself and one for the king, his father.

Then the girl turned again into a peahen, and flew away with the other eight…



(from the 1917 edition of Serbian Fairytales published by William Heinemann, London)








The Golden Apple-tree and the Nine Peahens, 2012














To read the whole tale click here



More info about this tale you can find here



Here are a few depictions of the same scene done by other artists.









                                                                  William Sewell, 1914















                                                                Arthur Rackham, 1916












                                                                  Violet Brunton, 1928












                                                                           Bob Živković, 2000












                                                                   Cory Godbey, 2009















                          

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Gallery Opening



Muddy Colors contributor, Eric Fortune, will be having an opening this Saturday, July 14th at LeBasse Projects Gallery in Culver City, CA.  If you're in the area this weekend, you should definitely drop in to check out his new body of work.  For more information on Eric's show please visit LeBasse Projects.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Auction to benefit Cyril Van der Haegen




'The Lobotomist', by Cyril Van der Haegen


A good friend, and fellow illustrator, Cyril Van der Haegen, was recently diagnosed with two types of blood cancer: Leukemia and Myeloma. Obviously, this has been greatly affecting his quality of life, his ability to work, and his finances.



Like many artists, Cyril is self-employed and uninsured.



If you've ever met Cyril, you were probably greeted with a big smile. He is a gentle, upbeat guy, and isn't the kind of guy who complains, or asks unnecessarily for help... even when he may need it. Luckily, he has some equally impressive friends who aren't afraid to step in on his behalf. Illustrator, Dave Seeley is one such friend, and has spearheaded a charity auction to benefit Cyril.



100% of the proceeds of this auction will go to covering Cyril's medical costs and living expenses while he undergoes treatment.



More info on that auction, and Cyril's condition can be found here: http://www.daveseeley.com/auction-in-support-of-cyril-van-der-haegen



The first leg of the charity auction is already live on Ebay, and contains works by:



Dave Seeley,

Boris Vallejo,

Julie Bell,

Dan dos Santos,

Donato Giancola,

Moebius,

Stephan Martiniere,

Jon Foster,

Sam Burley,

Todd Lockwood,

Lars Grant West,

Scott Fischer,

Bruce Jensen,

and Greg Manchess.



Currently, there are some serious steals. So go check them out now, the auction ends very soon!

Auction here: http://www.ebay.com/sch/tegehel/m.html



The very same works will be on display at San Diego Comic Con this weekend, where you can bid on them as well. Just stop by Booth #4600



Additional works of art have already been donated, and another auction will be coming soon.






If you can't afford original art, you can still help! There is a Fundly page set up where you can donate any amount. A few dollars may not seem like a lot, but every little bit helps.

Donate here: https://fundly.com/cyrilvanderhaegen