Rackham and the Wind

Something I love about Arthur Rackham's work is how so many of his works feature a very exuberant wind. There's nothing as exhilarating as being caught up in a wild wind!

Arthur Rackham, "And now they never meet in grove or green," from act 2, scene 1 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare, en and black ink and watercolor with scraping and minute touches of white gouache on artist’s illustration board, 1908, source: http://www.clevelandart.org/art/1954.651?artist=Arthur+Rackham

Arthur Rackham - Illustration for "Till Eulenspiegel"

I am an admirer of Arthur Rackham and am often to be found scouring places for his work. It's great fun to get lost in the online galleries of museums and dream of one day seeing the works in person. I stumble across this beauty of his in the Metropolitan's gallery. I have never read the story it's from, but now I must see if I can get my hands on it. How terrifying and haunting the figures are. I wonder if the fact that it was done right in the middle of WWI had anything to do with the darkness and fear in this painting.

Arthur Rackham,  Illustration for "Till Eulenspiegel", watercolour, pen, ink, and guache on paper, 1916

Dreaming of Dreaming

With all the business of the holiday season, I've been dreaming of doing this:

"The Siesta" by Frederick Arthur Bridgman

John Duncan, "The Riders of the Sidhe"

John Duncan, "The Riders of the Sidhe", 1911

I had never seen this painting before, or heard of John Duncan. What an exciting new discovery! He sounds like quite an odd character too; he said he heard "faerie music" when he painted, and married a woman whom he thought had discovered the Holy Grail in a well in Glastonbury.

Silver Point Grasshopper

All photographs by me, subject: grasshopper in silverpoint

I recently discovered silver point drawing, a very old method of drawing in which you use a wire of pure silver to draw on specially prepared paper. Old masters such as Leonardo da Vinci used it during the Renaissance, some of them drawing with pure gold, brass, and copper too.

I was drawn to it because, being obsessed with details, it allows one to draw the finest, most delicate lines possible because of the combined hardness of the metal, fineness of the point, and the ability to make a stroke with the lightest of pressures.

Another wonderful attribute is the highly reflective nature of the marks made. Before the metal tarnished on the page, it glitters and glows like the precious metal it is.

Zephyrus

Flora and the Zephyrs by John William Waterhouse, via saveflowers1

Standing by the lake a few days ago, I felt a strong, warm wind rush across my face and blow my hair about. It was Zephyrus, the warm west wind, herald of spring.

The Bridge by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sommeraften ved Skagens strand, P.S. Kroyer, 1899. Wikimedia Commons.

The Bridge

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

I stood on the bridge at midnight,

   As the clocks were striking the hour,

And the moon rose o'er the city,

   Behind the dark church-tower.   

I saw her bright reflection

   In the waters under me,

Like a golden goblet falling

   And sinking into the sea.   

And far in the hazy distance

   Of that lovely night in June,

The blaze of the flaming furnace

   Gleamed redder than the moon.   

Among the long, black rafters

   The wavering shadows lay,

And the current that came from the ocean

   Seemed to lift and bear them away;   

As, sweeping and eddying through them,

   Rose the belated tide,

And, streaming into the moonlight,

   The seaweed floated wide.   

And like those waters rushing

   Among the wooden piers,

A flood of thoughts came o’er me

   That filled my eyes with tears.   

How often, O, how often,

   In the days that had gone by,

I had stood on that bridge at midnight

   And gazed on that wave and sky!   

How often, O, how often,

   I had wished that the ebbing tide

Would bear me away on its bosom

   O’er the ocean wild and wide!   

For my heart was hot and restless,

   And my life was full of care,

And the burden laid upon me

   Seemed greater than I could bear.   

But now it has fallen from me,

   It is buried in the sea;

And only the sorrow of others

   Throws its shadow over me.   

Yet whenever I cross the river

   On its bridge with wooden piers,

Like the odor of brine from the ocean

   Comes the thought of other years.   

And I think how many thousands

   Of care-encumbered men,

Each bearing his burden of sorrow,

   Have crossed the bridge since then.   

I see the long procession

   Still passing to and fro,

The young heart hot and restless,

   And the old subdued and slow!   

And forever and forever,

   As long as the river flows,

As long as the heart has passions,

   As long as life has woes;   

The moon and its broken reflection

   And its shadows shall appear,

As the symbol of love in heaven,

   And its wavering image here.

It's a Porcupine Day

Sometimes, I just feel like a porcupine; I may look all laid back and cute... but I'm prickly, and you'd better not get too close.

You can get your hands on this cute little guy (ouch!) in my Etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/listing/169629567/porcupine-original-art-card-on-cream?

Anne Girl

L.M. Montgomery's character of Anne Shirley has always held a special place in my heart. As a girl, my imagination was captured by her, and not just because she had red hair and lived on Prince Edward Island; she had flaws like me, such as being too stubborn, holding grudges, and being a little too romantic. I loved nature, and she loved nature. I hated certain boys, and she hated certain boys. I fell in love against all my protestations, and she did too.

No surprise then that I sat down to paint something pretty, and what came out, quite by accident, was Anne Shirley. I didn't realize it until I'd painted the last strand of hair, and then I said to myself, "Well, if it isn't Anne Shirley." She has the red hair, perfect little nose, and flowers in her hair.

Rather appropriate I think, with fall coming on to astound us in all its wild, red glory.

Girl of the Limberlost

One of my favorite books is A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter. I read it so long ago that I can't remember if that book is what inspired my fascination with moths or if it merely spoke to it, but in any case, it is a well-beloved book to me. So, in an effort to explore the photo editing program Gimp, I created this collage, and found out that Gimp is wonderful! It's free, and very powerful, and decently easy to use.

Girl of the Limberlost by Grace

closeup of Girl of the Limberlost

Daffodils in Mythic March

We have daffodils gallor, all around the mailbox, the storm cellar, the bird bath, and along the fence. No crocuses, sadly, but that's to be expected, since the squirrels think we plant them just for them eat. Little blighters.

But to compensate for the lack of real crocuses, I found an excuse to draw myself some; I worked them into the project I'm doing for my Senior Show this semester, which is to illustrate the Volsung Saga. Crocuses grow in Norway, where that ancient myth originates, so I decided to do a landscape scene with the crocuses and one bumble bee. Grace over at Domythic Bliss is conducting Mythic March, so this is my contribution to that for the week.

 In case you're wondering, these are Prismacolor pencil drawings on vellum over a painting on watercolor. The vellum gives the watercolor scenes a wonderful misty, mysterious feel.

As an extra bonus, here is another piece I'm working on that's also part of this project. It's of the tree Branstock, which is a whole other post itself. It's not finished, and the picture doesn't nearly capture the glow coming from behind the tree, but it'll do.

I suppose since it's spring I should turn off the snow and change to a new background, but I'm still a bit reluctant to let go of winter. Ah well, I must do it sometime.

The Silver Light of Dawn

I ran across this painting by Dan McCaw and I was of course immediately enchanted. Have you ever seen the sun rising on a frosty morning with a week, pale glow from the cloud cover and cold air? He has captured the light perfectly in this piece.

Dan McCaw, title unknown, from his Facebook page.

Here's another morning painting by him, even titled such. I'm afraid I don't look that put together this morning... or most mornings... but the light here looks about the same. If you can't enjoy anything else in the bleak midwinter, then admire what sunlight there is and wait for me to post up pictures of MY SEEDS WHICH ARE ALREADY SPROUTING! Yes indeed, I am starting seedlings indoors and after only three days of watering and a grow light bulb, they are sprouting.

Dan McCaw,  Morning Light, http://mccawfineart.com/

Swans and Ladies

I finished this little border last night as part of a larger project I'm working on for my last semester. I'm not sure how I'll fit it into a larger body of work, or if I even will use it for that at all, but it was so much fun to make and I'm quite pleased with it. It represents some of the Wish Maidens of Odin turning from swans back into ladies.


The Wish Maidens take on many different forms of birds, from ravens to swans, to accomplish the tasks Odin sets to them. It makes me think of Zechariah 5:9, in which two spiritual beings in the shape of women with stork wings (it is unclear if they are angels or merely agents of God as the wind is) carry away a wicked woman. Quite a fascinating verse, with much controversy surrounding it.

In just a few days, I'll be back to another semester. This time, however, I only have 7 hours of classes, which means I will actually get time to *gasp* work on art like I'm supposed to be doing instead of writing papers about art and reading articles about art upon which to write papers. For my research paper last semester, I had far past the limit of books allowed to be checked out at the library, and that was only for a 15-20 page paper. (I won't even mention the number of journal articles I had.) The Interlibrary Loan officer probably came to dread hearing my name, I sent so many requests for books from other libraries.

Then I would come up to the checkout desk with an enormous load, and the librarians would inform me with popping eyes and a confused smile that I didn't have to check out the entire library. The nice librarian who allowed me to check out books past the limit informed me I was the first person to ever do so in all his years of working at the library. This surprised me; before college when I had time to actually read for pleasure, I would routinely check out the limit of books and more if allowed at our local library.

Anyway, now when I walk past the library, I get a sinking feeling until I remember that I never have to take that terrible class again and I can actually go to the library and check out things I want to, oh wonder of wonders! I would rather take another upper level math class than write another paper, and that's saying something.

Winter is for Rest

Now that I'm done with finals, I am ready for a nice long winter rest. I'll be working on a lot of art over Christmas break, but it will be at my own pace, and I'll be working on things I want to work on. It's a very important difference.

I greatly enjoy winter, especially when it snows. Lately I've been looking at paintings of snow and noticing how the masters were able to convey so well the quality of winter light. I wish that where I live looked like this right now, seeing as it's December...

Vilhelm von Gerfelt, Winter Picture With Cabin at River,  18th - 19 century, Wikimedia Commons

But alas, it looks more like a late autumn day where I live, like in this painting, which captures the quality of autumn light so perfectly.

Alfred Sisley, Die Klienen Fleisen Im Frühling, 1880, Wikimedia Commons

Monet did an excellent job of capturing winter light in this painting. He didn't just paint pretty scenes of water lilies.

Claude Monet, Snow Scene At Argenteuil, 1875,  Wikimedia Commons

I also really like this winter scene by Caspar David Friedrich. It's a more gloomy scene, but very interesting. His style is almost modern realism, but he died in 1840, and this picture disappeared in Berlin in 1945... hmmm I wonder who was responsible for that.

Caspar David Friedrich, Monastery Burial-Ground Under Snow, 1818, Wikimedia Commons

On that gloomy note, I'm off to make supper and relish the fact that I don't have any homework to do.

Jean Baptiste Monge: Fae on Unusual Steeds

I just discovered the art of Jean Baptiste Monge. He paints the most enchanting scenes of elves and gnomes on steeds of birds or small animals. I love his technique and composition. His style reminds me a bit of Arthur Rackham, though what illustrator of fae hasn't been influenced by Arthur Rackham.

Jean Baptiste Monge

I think the tree in this one is extremely well done. For whatever reason, trees such as this one instantly call to mind spooks and goblins, and Monge has done an excellent job of obscuring it with mist. The bent form of the woman echoes that of the tree. I wonder what she could have in that cage; perhaps some maiden or child who wasn't wary enough to escape her.

Jean Baptiste Monge

You can see more of his art at http://www.jbmonge.com/ .

A Trip to Crystal Bridges - Parrish's Lantern Bearers

Last weekend I was lucky enough to make a trip to Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas. This incredibly museum houses some of the most famous American art you could ever hope to see, and it has so much of it I was nearly reeling from awe by the time we went through it all. Normally I see one or two good pieces in a museum and I'm ready to leave- it's just overload. But this museum had so many of my heroes in it -Whistler, Andrew Wyeth, John Singer Sargent- that I felt like a kid in a candy store, disovering one wonderful piece after another.

The crowning piece though- and the whole reason I made the trip- was Maxfield Parrish's The Lantern Bearers. No, not Durand's Kindred Spirits or Heade's Cattleya Orchid; it was The Lantern Bearers that I stood in front of for as long as I could, reveling in how the lanterns glow like they have real lights in them and soaking in the incredible "Parrish blue" of the sky, my favorite color in the world. Art snobs pointedly overlook Parrish as an American painter because of his status as an illustrator, but this painting is just as skillfully executed, just as brilliant in its use of color and light, as any other piece in the museum- and far surpasses several pieces that didn't deserve to be in that museum but are more highly regarded. Such is the way of the art world though, and it doesn't dim my enjoyment of this piece one bit. So take a look at the photos I captured of this exquisite piece and be amazed. I'll post up more art later.

Unfortunately, no photo can capture can capture the luminosity of this painting.

Detail of a foot. 

Is it a lantern... or the moon? 

 The little cracks in the paint are lovely.