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Memphis Urban Sketchers met at Brooks on a drizzly Saturday. The museum is free till noon, so it suits our group for free and open (and available bathrooms). I sat out on the front porch under cover and chatted with a couple of friends and did a frustrating line sketch with a pen that was getting clogged up (below), and then I went inside to sketch in the galleries. I've enjoyed drawing museum spaces lately, even though that limits me to pencils only (in the US, at least). So they always turn out a bit more candy colored than I'd like. I've really enjoyed the pencils lately, but generally I use them for the drawing and add more subdued paint on top. I did take this one outside and added water after. Maybe I need to experiment with much lighter tone and water RIGHT after so I still remember and can tone things down better. Brooks is near my house and a good place for me to get in and out of. It was good to get back and remind myself to go there more often.
Now I need to go refill some pens and see if I can get this one flowing better again.
Now I need to go refill some pens and see if I can get this one flowing better again.
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I walked through the entrance hall and stepped out into the first cloister and fell immediately in love. I had only spent a handful of days in New York and had never before had the time to take the longer ride up to the north end of Manhatten. The Cloisters is a bit remote, which I am sure protects it from the worst of the crowds, but it is so worth the journey.
In my more restricted last few years I have been missing Europe badly. I love traveling places where the history is old. I love being surrounded by Medieval buildings and carvings. The Cloisters was such a balm for me. It's a crazy mish-mash, but it is so beautifully done that it utterly works. Barnard, a sculptor, lived and worked on the continent in the early 20th C and became a compulsive collector of Medieval carved stone. He bought a whole chapter house in France that had been reduced to usage as a barn. He bought three cloisters, none of them complete but with enough original pieces to put together evocative and beautiful spaces. Every door and doorway in the place is historical and different, but the stone structure that houses all of these disparate pieces is so simple and sensitive that it all feels almost inevitable. Rockefeller saw Barnard's collection and donated this museum that brought all those pieces into one living building. I miss the time when billionaires built museums and schools and libraries, but we continue to be richer as a society because of the ones who did.
Another thing that feels European is the way the indoor and outdoor spaces flow together. I am still masking in public, and it was such joy to have so much of the museum open air. There are some lovely galleries too, plus one stunning Robert Campin altarpiece that I had studied in college and was surprised to meet face to face. The windows, like the doorways, set panels of Medieval glass into simple, diamond shaped glass panes with glimpses of the Hudson through the gaps. The stained glass is alive and vital in a way that it never is that funeral home way of artificial lighting from behind. It doesn't all match, but it harmonizes. I truly fell in love with the whole place. My dad had been telling me for years that I needed to go, but I was never in the city for more than a day or two. I'm so glad I made it, and I will definitely be back.
The collection of artwork is gorgeous too. I fell in love with this small English saint and sketched him in my smaller purse sketchbook. I also had a lovely long conversation with a summer intern at the Met (what a dream job!) in the unicorn tapestries room. She's an artist as well, and it was so fun to hear about her big adventure of a summer and share our work a bit. I love traveling solo because it leaves space for me to meet and spend time with people instead of being more walled in a bubble of companions.
In my more restricted last few years I have been missing Europe badly. I love traveling places where the history is old. I love being surrounded by Medieval buildings and carvings. The Cloisters was such a balm for me. It's a crazy mish-mash, but it is so beautifully done that it utterly works. Barnard, a sculptor, lived and worked on the continent in the early 20th C and became a compulsive collector of Medieval carved stone. He bought a whole chapter house in France that had been reduced to usage as a barn. He bought three cloisters, none of them complete but with enough original pieces to put together evocative and beautiful spaces. Every door and doorway in the place is historical and different, but the stone structure that houses all of these disparate pieces is so simple and sensitive that it all feels almost inevitable. Rockefeller saw Barnard's collection and donated this museum that brought all those pieces into one living building. I miss the time when billionaires built museums and schools and libraries, but we continue to be richer as a society because of the ones who did.
Another thing that feels European is the way the indoor and outdoor spaces flow together. I am still masking in public, and it was such joy to have so much of the museum open air. There are some lovely galleries too, plus one stunning Robert Campin altarpiece that I had studied in college and was surprised to meet face to face. The windows, like the doorways, set panels of Medieval glass into simple, diamond shaped glass panes with glimpses of the Hudson through the gaps. The stained glass is alive and vital in a way that it never is that funeral home way of artificial lighting from behind. It doesn't all match, but it harmonizes. I truly fell in love with the whole place. My dad had been telling me for years that I needed to go, but I was never in the city for more than a day or two. I'm so glad I made it, and I will definitely be back.
The collection of artwork is gorgeous too. I fell in love with this small English saint and sketched him in my smaller purse sketchbook. I also had a lovely long conversation with a summer intern at the Met (what a dream job!) in the unicorn tapestries room. She's an artist as well, and it was so fun to hear about her big adventure of a summer and share our work a bit. I love traveling solo because it leaves space for me to meet and spend time with people instead of being more walled in a bubble of companions.
The first sketch was the cloister with the cafe. I loved being able to get a nice salad and real tea and sit at a table and draw the beautiful garden in the center. After lunch I came back up and drew the biggest cloister that was the first thing I saw. I love the twisted trees in this one. It's only a third the size of its original, but they made it the size that matched the capitals they had, and they filled in some of the columns and surrounding walls with stone from the same quarry. I was on a bench back underneath the overhang, and the colors got a little bright on me. I also think I was just so uplifted that I leaned into the pinks and purples. I toned it down a bit later in better light, but it's still a slightly over the top emotional response to the beauty of the place, and that's ok.
I spent all day there and just missed the bus as I walked out. There was a lot of traffic, so a group of us waited a bit for the next one, and I did a much quicker sketch of the outside, using ink and a red watercolor marker since I was fully outside the museum. To end the day I pulled out my smaller sketchbook again and sketched a couple of the fellow would-be passengers. It was a congenial group and a marvelous day.
I spent all day there and just missed the bus as I walked out. There was a lot of traffic, so a group of us waited a bit for the next one, and I did a much quicker sketch of the outside, using ink and a red watercolor marker since I was fully outside the museum. To end the day I pulled out my smaller sketchbook again and sketched a couple of the fellow would-be passengers. It was a congenial group and a marvelous day.
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My second full day in New York I headed for the Frick. Reading about their small Vermeer show had been the tipping point for buying my ticket and taking the plunge. Plus I've been reading all fall about their newly opened second story -- galleries in the family rooms that were offices, closed to the public, for decades. They've done a gorgeous job. I would love for them to have more benches, but otherwise it was wonderful. I did find a great bench at the top of the grand stairway where I could look down to the main hall and the organ and grandfather clock. I had so much fun drawing the birds eye view of the museum, using my Inktense pencils again. They are more candy colored than my normal palette, so I put a few grey washes down later to try to keep it from being quite so bright, but overall I was delighted with how it came out.
The three Vermeers gathered for the show all centered around letters. There was the Frick's own epistolary piece, one from the Rijksmuseum, and one I had never seen in person from Dublin. It was funny. There was a line down the block and sometimes around the corner to get in, but once you were inside the museum you could flow into the Vermeer room at will. It would sometimes get a little crowded, but most people looked at each piece about a minute and cleared out, and there were plenty of quiet times in between. I got to stand with each piece as long as I wanted to. Vermeers are a rare treat and worth savoring. Oddly the other two Vermeers were almost ignored in the main museum. And when I got back to the Met, they had five in a room that was also mostly empty. People are funny. But I'm glad I went to see the ones that live further away. It was such a good day, made better by a lovely chat with a bookmaker who now lives in Colorado. I had my lunch outside and was working on my sketch a little in the better light. I love that art is so often an introduction to people when I'm traveling alone. (Hi, Rosemary!)
Here's the sketch I did waiting for the museum to open that morning. The Met had opened at 10, so I had (foolishly) assumed the Frick was on the same schedule. Turns out it was 10:30, but I had a sketchbook to entertain me.
The three Vermeers gathered for the show all centered around letters. There was the Frick's own epistolary piece, one from the Rijksmuseum, and one I had never seen in person from Dublin. It was funny. There was a line down the block and sometimes around the corner to get in, but once you were inside the museum you could flow into the Vermeer room at will. It would sometimes get a little crowded, but most people looked at each piece about a minute and cleared out, and there were plenty of quiet times in between. I got to stand with each piece as long as I wanted to. Vermeers are a rare treat and worth savoring. Oddly the other two Vermeers were almost ignored in the main museum. And when I got back to the Met, they had five in a room that was also mostly empty. People are funny. But I'm glad I went to see the ones that live further away. It was such a good day, made better by a lovely chat with a bookmaker who now lives in Colorado. I had my lunch outside and was working on my sketch a little in the better light. I love that art is so often an introduction to people when I'm traveling alone. (Hi, Rosemary!)
Here's the sketch I did waiting for the museum to open that morning. The Met had opened at 10, so I had (foolishly) assumed the Frick was on the same schedule. Turns out it was 10:30, but I had a sketchbook to entertain me.
Walking back up to the bus at the end of the day I spotted this bright pink food truck and had to sketch it. I am so visually drawn to the fever dream colors and fun shapes of food trucks. Sometime I'll end up with a whole series of them I'm sure.
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There is a huge Sargent exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum, and I had been hoping all year to get up there and see it. I was just about to give up because of health and logistics, but I felt better several days in a row and decided to just go for it last minute. It was SUCH a good decision. And I was lucky to be flexible and able to go last minute. I spent Monday to Friday in New York, home on Saturday, and I just drank in art. I went ahead and joined the Met both to support a great museum and so I could go in and out at will. And hopefully I'll go back again and use it some more in the next year.
The Sargent show was great, a wide selection of work from the earlier part of his career, the part where he was based in Paris. He was ridiculously prolific, and there were many I'd never even seen reproductions of. There were a bunch in private collections but also old friends I've seen in other places in other years.
I found benches and sat and sketched a good bit, also just sat and looked deeply. The gallery sketches are all Derwent Inktense pencils. The NY museums have a pencil only policy, and I love the Inktense ones because they have more depth and saturation than most pencils. They're made with ink instead of watercolor, and when you put a little water on them (I usually use a water brush for a blender), they really pop. I tend to get in the habit of drawing with fountain pens at home, so it's fun to mix up texture and use the pencils sometime.
I enjoyed drawing people with the art a few times, including that first full length portrait of the doctor in the super saturated red. After lunch I went back in and drew the Daughters of Edward Droit, one of my favorite Sargent portraits anywhere (aside from Lady Agnew in the Scottish National Gallery). I had seen it in Boston a decade ago and been completely blown away by the composition as well as the beauty of the brushstrokes. I drew it straight up, just looking deeply and enjoying the painting.
The Sargent show was great, a wide selection of work from the earlier part of his career, the part where he was based in Paris. He was ridiculously prolific, and there were many I'd never even seen reproductions of. There were a bunch in private collections but also old friends I've seen in other places in other years.
I found benches and sat and sketched a good bit, also just sat and looked deeply. The gallery sketches are all Derwent Inktense pencils. The NY museums have a pencil only policy, and I love the Inktense ones because they have more depth and saturation than most pencils. They're made with ink instead of watercolor, and when you put a little water on them (I usually use a water brush for a blender), they really pop. I tend to get in the habit of drawing with fountain pens at home, so it's fun to mix up texture and use the pencils sometime.
I enjoyed drawing people with the art a few times, including that first full length portrait of the doctor in the super saturated red. After lunch I went back in and drew the Daughters of Edward Droit, one of my favorite Sargent portraits anywhere (aside from Lady Agnew in the Scottish National Gallery). I had seen it in Boston a decade ago and been completely blown away by the composition as well as the beauty of the brushstrokes. I drew it straight up, just looking deeply and enjoying the painting.
Toward the end of the day I wandered through the American wing and saw a father and son in blue stripes and checks hanging out in front of an orange Helen Frankenthaler. It was a wonderful sight. It took me a couple of minutes to get out my book and pencils, so it's a super fast sketch as they moved on out, but I was happy with feel of it.
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Two weeks in a row I've managed to make it to the midweek lecture at Dixon. This week it was their membership person Dorothy Svgdik talking about why she loves museum. So fun, and I did three quickish sketches while I was listening. I'm still really enjoying having the small sketchbook in my purse with a handful of pens for easy access. I'm so much more likely to sketch instead of looking at my phone if I make it super easy and accessible for myself. And I'm invariably happier afterwards if I do make that choice.
Afterwards I took a walk with friends around the garden and then went back inside to sketch in the gallery. I love the spaces in museums and have been seeing a lot of online sketches lately inside museums. Not exclusively copies of the art, but drawings of the space. I would love to do more of those myself, though I so miss being able to sketch in pen and watercolor. American museums tend to be really restrictive about materials in a way most European museums aren't. So it didn't come out as hoped, but here was my bigger sketchbook gallery landscape in pencil and watercolor crayon. I had fun sitting and looking at the space and light even if it didn't turn out the way I'd hoped. Honestly no sketch ever matches the vision in my brain that I have when I start, but some get closer than others. This one wasn't close, but that's how it goes. On the other hand, I was really happy with my sketch of pewter and people above, a couple of audience members off to my left.
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Colleen Couch gave a lecture at Dixon today on her joint show with mentor Dolph Smith, and it was great. I listened and enjoyed slides of Dolph's methodical sketchbooks/studio journals where he worked out his ideas (or sometimes not, as the last page here shows). I did sketches in my tiny purse sketchbook with a fountain pen, a brush pen with black ink, and a couple of watercolor markers for the last two. I sat with friends and had a great talk about art careers, making your own goals, and the ongoing need for discernment. I have several friends trying to figure out the next chapter or streamline the current chapter to make it work more smoothly.
It was a timely talk, and it's always good to hear that sometimes even art heroes like Dolph end up with "shit!" on occasion.
It was a timely talk, and it's always good to hear that sometimes even art heroes like Dolph end up with "shit!" on occasion.
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I started a tiny sketchbook on Friday since I often carry a pretty tiny purse. I'd like to do more sketching my daily life. I've been using the Handbook watercolor books, but this was my first not w/c paper since they got bought out by Strathmore. The paper quality is definitely down, but I liked my first sketch once I added more paint. It bled through a little with the pen work, but not too much. The second sketch I did with a felt tip instead of a fountain pen, and I I had no bleed through. For this tiny size I might try one of the softcover Stillman and Birn, but for my bigger sketchbooks I still like the hardback nature of the Handbook watercolor, and I love having the pocket in the back.
Because the sketchbook was in my purse this morning, I did a second quick forest sketch, the one with the Pigma Graphic 1 felt tip, and it was fun to pause for not too long on my forest walk and do a quick sketch. Hopefully this will get me back in the habit.
Because the sketchbook was in my purse this morning, I did a second quick forest sketch, the one with the Pigma Graphic 1 felt tip, and it was fun to pause for not too long on my forest walk and do a quick sketch. Hopefully this will get me back in the habit.
On Friday I met my sketching friend Libby at Dixon for Food Truck Friday My favorite food truck Flipside Asia was there, so I made a point of getting to it. I did the superfast sketch of the small girl statue as a warm up and then moved to. my bigger book. Of course I liked the fast, looser sketch of the girl herself better, but I ended up liking the conservatory and the deep shadows of the full page version too. I started both with a fountain pen using KawekoParadise Blue ink, which is my favorite funky color lately. It's water soluble and melts into the paint, which is fun and loose. Then I went and got meatballs in an Indian marsala sauce to eat in the gardens with Libby. A lovely day.
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Memphis is leaning into monsoon season this year, with a generous side of tornadic activity. We're supposed to be getting about 12" of rain over four days this week, but after Wednesday's tornadoes and Thursdays downpours, Friday dawned sunny. I took the opportunity for a day out and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I went to Crosstown first to run through the drug store and also get a chocolate croissant from my favorite bakery, and then I headed to Dixon.
After sitting the garden for a while enjoying the tulips I headed inside to the Floyd Newsum exhibition. It's so much fun to sketch these huge blocks of color with patterns woven in. They feel architectural and show up well across the room. I had done one sketch early in the show and have been wanting to get back, but the fatigue has been real this last month. I was glad to feel good today and get the chance to sketch in the show again. I used Neocolor watercolor crayons and Derwent Inktense pencils since watercolors are forbidden in the gallery. My bench was also in a deep shadow, so the green got a little more intense than I meant it to (when I'm mixing paint I tend to take the edge off with some blending, but with preset colors you get what you get). Overall though I'm happy with the sketch and had so much fun doing it. Aside from the colors, I love Newsum's use of his own personal vocabulary of motifs. Ladders, spoons, chickens, dogs, and, beautifully, his grandmother, recur often. The show makes me want to think more clearly about the symbols that are personal to me.
I worked through my normal lunch time, and I wanted to check the new books at Novel, so I treated myself to crab cakes on the patio of their bistro. It was hopping indoors, but I had the patio to myself on a chancy weather day. I hadn't eaten there in ages and enjoyed the crab cakes, and I also had fun sketching out across the parking lot to the crepe myrtle trees. It started sprinkling and then raining with a little more intent as I was getting close to finished (you can see splatter marks in the blue ink) so I called it finished and packed up quickly.
I finished the day by printing the first batch of my snow tree print while listening to a day baseball game, and I played my banjo and caught up my journal in the evening. An exceptionally good day.
After sitting the garden for a while enjoying the tulips I headed inside to the Floyd Newsum exhibition. It's so much fun to sketch these huge blocks of color with patterns woven in. They feel architectural and show up well across the room. I had done one sketch early in the show and have been wanting to get back, but the fatigue has been real this last month. I was glad to feel good today and get the chance to sketch in the show again. I used Neocolor watercolor crayons and Derwent Inktense pencils since watercolors are forbidden in the gallery. My bench was also in a deep shadow, so the green got a little more intense than I meant it to (when I'm mixing paint I tend to take the edge off with some blending, but with preset colors you get what you get). Overall though I'm happy with the sketch and had so much fun doing it. Aside from the colors, I love Newsum's use of his own personal vocabulary of motifs. Ladders, spoons, chickens, dogs, and, beautifully, his grandmother, recur often. The show makes me want to think more clearly about the symbols that are personal to me.
I worked through my normal lunch time, and I wanted to check the new books at Novel, so I treated myself to crab cakes on the patio of their bistro. It was hopping indoors, but I had the patio to myself on a chancy weather day. I hadn't eaten there in ages and enjoyed the crab cakes, and I also had fun sketching out across the parking lot to the crepe myrtle trees. It started sprinkling and then raining with a little more intent as I was getting close to finished (you can see splatter marks in the blue ink) so I called it finished and packed up quickly.
I finished the day by printing the first batch of my snow tree print while listening to a day baseball game, and I played my banjo and caught up my journal in the evening. An exceptionally good day.
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Dixon plants thousands of tulip bulbs each year, and they are all bursting forth right now. A huge section of Memphis turns out to take family photos and roam around. It's kind of a fun show, especially on a Saturday, if you're interested in people more than in unobstructed views of the flowers. I settled on a bench and watched the flow of people and sketched the ones who stayed still long enough. I wasn't particularly happy with the way I did the blossoms, but I felt like this captured the bustle and color of the overall scene.
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With snow/ice in the forecast, I gave myself an outing before it hit. It's been a busy few weeks, and I hadn't been to Dixon lately. I've seen several lovely paintings by artists I follow of interiors at museums, and it made me want to go sketch in my own favorite museum. I couldn't have chosen a better day. Almost no one was there -- I think everyone must have been out buying bread and milk instead. So I settled in the floor and did an overall gallery sketch after I walked through the two new shows. There are two modern shows now, both of which are unusual and really fun. This retrospective of Floyd Newsom is wonderful for sketching -- huge, bright, colorful pieces. I love how he's chosen his own vocabulary of symbolic items to work with, much like Dine or Thiebaud or the Dutch still life painters, going back a bit. I'll enjoy going several times and looking at more details.
The other thing I loved was a piece from just last year done while he was in the hospital. Like several of his other works, it's a larger piece stitched together from individual sheets of paper. It was a manageable size to be working on in his last illness, and it reminded me of Manet's last flowers done in his sickbed or Matisse in his wheelchair cutting out collage shapes for others to place for him. I have always hoped to be making art right through till the end, and it's lovely to see another artist who managed that so beautifully.
It was a great day out, to recenter myself in a space so dear to me. I'm hoping to get there more often this spring. A weekly pop in would be good for both my spirit and my creativity.
The other thing I loved was a piece from just last year done while he was in the hospital. Like several of his other works, it's a larger piece stitched together from individual sheets of paper. It was a manageable size to be working on in his last illness, and it reminded me of Manet's last flowers done in his sickbed or Matisse in his wheelchair cutting out collage shapes for others to place for him. I have always hoped to be making art right through till the end, and it's lovely to see another artist who managed that so beautifully.
It was a great day out, to recenter myself in a space so dear to me. I'm hoping to get there more often this spring. A weekly pop in would be good for both my spirit and my creativity.
