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I posted snapshots of my museum sketches before I got home, but here are the scans that are a little cleaner and easier to see. I had so much fun doing these. The blue and black O'Keefe was a great starter sketch with simple colors and flat planes. Some painters are a lot easier to sketch than others, especially in the U.S. where most museums only allow you to use dry media. I love doing tiny watercolors with a self contained brush in Europe, but the museums here are super restrictive. Using only dry media means you have to have every color to match the painting you want to sketch since you can't mix colors. I used Inktense pencils (ink rather than watercolor ones so darker and richer, but which still activate with a little water over the top) and Neocolor watercolor crayons, which also take a nice wash later. There was a gorgeous eggplant piece I would have enjoyed sketching (with a bench right by it even! I had to sit in the floor for all three of these), but I didn't feel I could get the colors right. Same with an iris one. So I chose ones I felt would go reasonably well, and the process of drawing helps me look more closely at how artists make the choices they do. They copies are never exactly right. The sunset Shelton piece is more vivid than the original -- again, I had to use the colors I had, plus museum lighting is always pretty dim to protect the art, so I usually end up a little more vivid than the original, just hoping not to get into "garish" territory. I was overall really pleased with both of these.
After lunch I saw the permanent collection, which had a lot of great late 19th century/early 20th century works, including a couple by George Inness, one of my favorites. I loved the super dark sky of the storm behind the trees and the richness of the depth. It took a while to get the layers right. I used more crayons and less pencil with this one. I'm a little less satisfied with it as a copy, but I loved doing it.
After lunch I saw the permanent collection, which had a lot of great late 19th century/early 20th century works, including a couple by George Inness, one of my favorites. I loved the super dark sky of the storm behind the trees and the richness of the depth. It took a while to get the layers right. I used more crayons and less pencil with this one. I'm a little less satisfied with it as a copy, but I loved doing it.
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The High Museum in Atlanta has an exhibition of Georgia O’Keefe’s New York era paintings, a broad selection of her work, but clearly (above) I was drawn to the skyscrapers. I highly recommend the show to anyone who can get there. I had a whirlwind trip. I’d pondered going before the snow, and clearly that was a bad idea. Then I thought about going next week, but the forecast when I checked looked ominous again, so Monday morning over breakfast I decided that that was the day. I had scouted out a garage apartment in walking distance of the High that was only available until Thursday, so I made the reservation at 7:30, threw some things in the car, and was out by 9:00.
I’ve been feeling for a while that I was stuck in a long covid rut, partly from fatigue, partly because of a fear of reinfection, and partly because it became very easy and comfortable to stay home. Having learned covid strongly disagrees with my particular biology, I’m still masking in public and miss the dancing I used to do. But I chose Explore as my word of the year and set myself a task to go somewhere new each month, even if it’s close to home. Museums are great because they’re not too crowded, and there isn’t that focus on food and drink, plus they feed my soul. I loved my Crystal Bridges/Nelson Atkinson trip last fall, and I’d like to do some more museum visits. I been once to the High around college age, but it’s been so long that I counted it as a new place. Piedmont Park certainly was. As with my fall trip, I brought along food, stayed within walking distance of the museum, and never moved the car (more key in Atlanta than some places). I went to the museum both mornings but walked in the park afterwards (and even the first night I got in). That rhythm of walking and looking at art and sketching really feeds my creativity. I also saw two old friends I hadn’t seen since before covid, which feeds my soul.
I did three museum sketches, two park sketches, and one early morning full moon sketch off my tiny balcony. There was a lovely large table and good light in the apartment too, and I did a bunch of Henry in the snow sketches while I was there too. Trips often get my sketching into overdrive. I’m working on a new graphic essay, maybe even a book, from my photos of him in the snow. It was an excellent three night getaway, and I’m so grateful I could just go.
I’ve been feeling for a while that I was stuck in a long covid rut, partly from fatigue, partly because of a fear of reinfection, and partly because it became very easy and comfortable to stay home. Having learned covid strongly disagrees with my particular biology, I’m still masking in public and miss the dancing I used to do. But I chose Explore as my word of the year and set myself a task to go somewhere new each month, even if it’s close to home. Museums are great because they’re not too crowded, and there isn’t that focus on food and drink, plus they feed my soul. I loved my Crystal Bridges/Nelson Atkinson trip last fall, and I’d like to do some more museum visits. I been once to the High around college age, but it’s been so long that I counted it as a new place. Piedmont Park certainly was. As with my fall trip, I brought along food, stayed within walking distance of the museum, and never moved the car (more key in Atlanta than some places). I went to the museum both mornings but walked in the park afterwards (and even the first night I got in). That rhythm of walking and looking at art and sketching really feeds my creativity. I also saw two old friends I hadn’t seen since before covid, which feeds my soul.
I did three museum sketches, two park sketches, and one early morning full moon sketch off my tiny balcony. There was a lovely large table and good light in the apartment too, and I did a bunch of Henry in the snow sketches while I was there too. Trips often get my sketching into overdrive. I’m working on a new graphic essay, maybe even a book, from my photos of him in the snow. It was an excellent three night getaway, and I’m so grateful I could just go.
I also met the coolest museum guard Theresa who walks around with a tiny sketchbook and draws the art as she’s guarding. I loved talking to her both days.
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I've been having fun sketching Christmas this year. One scene I had spotted on the way to the farm and been dying to do is Bartlett Wines & Spirits, above, with Santa and his reindeer on the roof. I was hoping I hadn't missed it with my stomach bug, so I raced out on Boxing Day and sketched from my car (cold but partly sunny). I had a ball. It's mostly Inktense pencils with watercolor on top.
A couple of days later I met friends at Dixon to see the exhibitions and do a little sketching. More Inktense, which I'm kind of on a roll with, plus neocolor crayons since you can't use paint in the museum.
A couple of days later I met friends at Dixon to see the exhibitions and do a little sketching. More Inktense, which I'm kind of on a roll with, plus neocolor crayons since you can't use paint in the museum.
We moved into the cafe for a while, and I switched back to ink and paint. I love this Kaweko Paradise Blue I found this summer, but I was frustrated with the overall sketch. Overworking it wasn't going to help, though, so I switched to a few fast people studies. I had fun doing tiny family sketches for my dad's present, and I think I might like to do some more illustrated memoir projects this year, so practice live is always good.
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I've been doing so much show stuff lately that it was lovely yesterday to take a whole day for sketching and friends and art. Memphis Urban Sketchers met at Dixon yesterday, one of my very favorite places. It's been crazy cold this past week, but it was warmer today and very sunny. I found if I sat in the sun, it felt great to sketch and drink in the outdoors a while. I did the top sketch, a little labored but fun, chatting with one friend. Then I went inside to warm up as the sun shifted and had a great conversation on illustration with another friend in the cafe. I drew two more friends, and the paradise blue ink ran unflatteringly into their faces (which I should have left white given the ink I was using), but I loved the half done bookshelves behind the scene.
I had about fifteen minutes left to draw in one of the galleries, so it's wonkier than I would like (and I can't get the lovely muted teal color in pencil), and I added the left bit outside after we were breaking up but still chatting.
After THAT a few of us went back to midtown and ate takeout Golden India outside on the patio in the sunshine (I'm still reveling in all that time outdoors after some indoor days), and finally I sketched Henry on his favorite chair just before bed. I was totally going yesterday, and it felt great to just flat out draw. None of them are fantastic, but it all felt so good just to do.
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Day Four of my museum trip was back in the Nelson Atkins. I went through the remarkable Hokusai exhibition, which included his teachers, peers, and modern artists influenced by him as well as reams of his own work. It was stunning. I drank it in without sketching, moving back and forth and revisiting favorites before I exited.
The museum cafe was much more crowded on a Saturday, so I bought a drink and another excellent scone to supplement the apple I had brought and took it out to a front patio shaded by cherry trees. I love the shuttlecock sculptures and took some lunch break drawing time before diving back in. I revisited favorites this last day. The stunning, dark Caravaggio of John the Baptist had been calling me since I arrived, so I took the time to settle on a handy bench and sketch it. Later I was wandering through the Egyptian section and drawn by this life sized relief from Nimrud. I sketched one of the museum goers with it. I had meant to include more, but people were so kind about not blocking my view that I really didn't get the chance. The black stone sculpture of Horace also enchanted me. I could spend a week in this museum without sketching everything I want to. I've made a commitment to myself to do more art trips within a day's drive of Memphis. It's so renewing for me to take time to sit with great art. I've been missing my European trips through covid, and I hope to get back sooner rather than later, but I should absolutely take advantage of the things closer to home as well.
The museum cafe was much more crowded on a Saturday, so I bought a drink and another excellent scone to supplement the apple I had brought and took it out to a front patio shaded by cherry trees. I love the shuttlecock sculptures and took some lunch break drawing time before diving back in. I revisited favorites this last day. The stunning, dark Caravaggio of John the Baptist had been calling me since I arrived, so I took the time to settle on a handy bench and sketch it. Later I was wandering through the Egyptian section and drawn by this life sized relief from Nimrud. I sketched one of the museum goers with it. I had meant to include more, but people were so kind about not blocking my view that I really didn't get the chance. The black stone sculpture of Horace also enchanted me. I could spend a week in this museum without sketching everything I want to. I've made a commitment to myself to do more art trips within a day's drive of Memphis. It's so renewing for me to take time to sit with great art. I've been missing my European trips through covid, and I hope to get back sooner rather than later, but I should absolutely take advantage of the things closer to home as well.
It was an early closing day at 5pm, and the light and evening were lovely. I sat out on the lawn and drew the shuttlecocks with more of the museum facade. I was tired, and it wasn't very good, but it felt nice to respond to all the art I'd seen by doing a little more sketching before driving home the next morning. What a treat of a trip. I met some lovely people that I wouldn't have talked to if I'd had a companion with me. People in groups are their own small bubbles moving through space. When you're alone, and often when I'm sketching, people feel much more comfortable having a conversation, and I had a great couple of conversations that started with my asking a museum guard a question as well. It's an unhurried, wide open way to walk into the world. I love trips I take with various friends and family, but I always love a solo trip too. Such a luxury to do exactly what is calling my name in any given moment.
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Friday morning I got up early and drove the three hours from Bentonville to Kansas City. The Nelson Atkins is a spectacular museum, and I'd been wanting to get back the last couple of years. It feels like one of those grand European museums with a spectacular collection housed in a palace built expressly for art. Kansas City was lucky enough to get two enormous bequests, and the trustees agreed to work together, right as the rest of the world was selling off art to try to survive the Great Depression. I had no idea such a museum existed within a day's drive of me until I stumbled into it a few years ago on an unrelated road trip. Magnificent is not too grand a word to describe it. It's the kind of place that feeds my soul.
It also happens to be nestled in a lovely parkway system in an old neighborhood that reminds me of Memphis. I found a place to stay where again I could park the car and just navigate by foot around the area, my favorite way to travel. I spent a lot of the day moving slowly through the collection, but I had
It also happens to be nestled in a lovely parkway system in an old neighborhood that reminds me of Memphis. I found a place to stay where again I could park the car and just navigate by foot around the area, my favorite way to travel. I spent a lot of the day moving slowly through the collection, but I had
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I went back to the Momentary for Kristine Potter's Dark Waters show the second morning in Bentonville. I really just wanted to sit and absorb it. Sketches from photos are never going to be fantastic, but looking at something in a detailed enough way to draw it helps me see it and remember it better. The most successful sketch is the one of The Balladeer where I backed up and got the setting as well, with those shadows slanting along the wall beside him. It was fun to do. I also did a sketch of the pair of photos of Naomi Wise's two gravestones (she was "Omi Wise" in the ballad). Amazing that you can visit that spot centuries later.
I had a whole plan to eat lunch at a fancy pizza food truck halfway along the walk up to Crystal Bridges, but they weren't open, sadly, during their posted hours. So I ended up with a wrap from a market and an outdoor table, which wasn't bad. There's a TON of construction everywhere in Bentonville, and you do get the feeling that the corporations behind the town are pushing development big time, but they are including a bike trail up the middle of town, lots of mountain bike trails, and lots of pedestrian amenities, which make it a pleasant town to be on foot.
In the same spirit as sketching the photos, I did a sketch of the Mark Rothko at Crystal Bridges. I couldn't get the colors just right in the pencils I had (they want you to sketch in pencil instead of paint), but I've enjoyed sketching him in the past as well. There are such subtle edges and textures and overlaps that it's easy to skim over unless I really slow down. Truthfully I might have sketched the gorgeous Hopper skyline across water, but there was nowhere to sit, and it's a crazy busy museum. One of their best features is lots of truly comfortable benches and even sofas, and there was a sofa in front of the Rothko, so that won out.
After revisiting all my favorites from the day before to spend more time, I toured the Frank Lloyd Wright house that's been moved to the property. It's a small family home, so I'm not sure it's really typical of his work, but it was fun to see one in person. I loved the huge high windows of the main room, but he seemed intent on making an extra large contrast with that space and had dark, low, heavy ceilings and very narrow passages everywhere else. The rest of the downstairs (upstairs is off limits with too delicate a staircase for all the traffic) felt like a below decks in a boat. It's not a house I would want to live in, but it was fun to see. It was a gorgeous day that I had spent largely indoors, so I sat out along the forested art trail after and sketched the house from a bench below it. Such a lovely day.
In the same spirit as sketching the photos, I did a sketch of the Mark Rothko at Crystal Bridges. I couldn't get the colors just right in the pencils I had (they want you to sketch in pencil instead of paint), but I've enjoyed sketching him in the past as well. There are such subtle edges and textures and overlaps that it's easy to skim over unless I really slow down. Truthfully I might have sketched the gorgeous Hopper skyline across water, but there was nowhere to sit, and it's a crazy busy museum. One of their best features is lots of truly comfortable benches and even sofas, and there was a sofa in front of the Rothko, so that won out.
After revisiting all my favorites from the day before to spend more time, I toured the Frank Lloyd Wright house that's been moved to the property. It's a small family home, so I'm not sure it's really typical of his work, but it was fun to see one in person. I loved the huge high windows of the main room, but he seemed intent on making an extra large contrast with that space and had dark, low, heavy ceilings and very narrow passages everywhere else. The rest of the downstairs (upstairs is off limits with too delicate a staircase for all the traffic) felt like a below decks in a boat. It's not a house I would want to live in, but it was fun to see. It was a gorgeous day that I had spent largely indoors, so I sat out along the forested art trail after and sketched the house from a bench below it. Such a lovely day.
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I took myself on a museum trip last week that I'd been trying to work in all spring and summer. I finally made it the last week of Kristine Potter's show Dark Waters. Good to have a deadline. I spent two days in Bentonville and two days on up the road in Kansas City, since I was that close already. The Momentary in Bentonville was the primary destination for this photography exhibition based on murder ballads. I had seen a single image in Oxford American last year and immediately ordered her book, but I wanted to see it on the walls, and I'm SO glad I made that effort. It was a remarkable installation. A cafe table set up with a video screen of an open mic ballad singing greeted you as you walked in, and the murder ballads themselves followed you through the exhibition. I'm usually not a fan of video installations in museums, but this was exactly right.
A luthier (guitar builder) was, perfectly, one of the museum guards for the show, and we had a great conversation the second day I was there sketching. He said a lot, really a lot, of people just didn't get the show at all. But I was raised on murder ballads and play clawhammer banjo, and it was a perfect fit. A glorious display of Southern Gothic but with an incredibly timely (sadly always true) commentary on the danger of being a woman in a world of men. With the Olympic runner just murdered by her boyfriend (set on fire) and the Avingnon woman raped by 80 men while her husband drugged her for their and his pleasure and invited them in to do violence, this show about the dangers of trusting men is all too current. One old time singer I heard do a concert said what she has learned from ballads is never to go down to the river with anyone named Willie.
There was deep and great beauty amid the menace though, as there is everywhere. Anyway, I loved the show and visited it two mornings in a row to sketch. After lunch both days I went to Crystal Bridges and toured their collection, and then I walked home. I loved being able to park my car for the two days and walk everywhere. Such pleasure. It felt a little like Paris again -- walking, looking at art, sketching, and walking some more. I think and digest art while I'm walking, and I see things I want to draw.
The first evening I celebrated all the art I saw by sketching the wonky old tree out the window at sunset. I had a lovely bank of windows with a small breakfast table that was perfect for perching and sketching and tea. What more could I want really?
A luthier (guitar builder) was, perfectly, one of the museum guards for the show, and we had a great conversation the second day I was there sketching. He said a lot, really a lot, of people just didn't get the show at all. But I was raised on murder ballads and play clawhammer banjo, and it was a perfect fit. A glorious display of Southern Gothic but with an incredibly timely (sadly always true) commentary on the danger of being a woman in a world of men. With the Olympic runner just murdered by her boyfriend (set on fire) and the Avingnon woman raped by 80 men while her husband drugged her for their and his pleasure and invited them in to do violence, this show about the dangers of trusting men is all too current. One old time singer I heard do a concert said what she has learned from ballads is never to go down to the river with anyone named Willie.
There was deep and great beauty amid the menace though, as there is everywhere. Anyway, I loved the show and visited it two mornings in a row to sketch. After lunch both days I went to Crystal Bridges and toured their collection, and then I walked home. I loved being able to park my car for the two days and walk everywhere. Such pleasure. It felt a little like Paris again -- walking, looking at art, sketching, and walking some more. I think and digest art while I'm walking, and I see things I want to draw.
The first evening I celebrated all the art I saw by sketching the wonky old tree out the window at sunset. I had a lovely bank of windows with a small breakfast table that was perfect for perching and sketching and tea. What more could I want really?
Here are some images from Dark Waters, photos first, and then a short video to give you a sense of the ballads playing behind. I can't say enough how powerful the exhibition is, and I hope it gets another showing I can visit down the line.
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It took me getting to Washington to get to a scanner and clean up my St. Louis sketches. I love to draw there and did some smaller, faster sketches as well as full watercolors. This first one is walnut ink with a dip pen of an Osage Orange tree. They always grow in such fascinating shapes.
I also got a fantastic blueberry/lemon curd crepe from a food truck creperie that flashed me back to Paris. I loved both the food and the fun little bus, so I did a sketch to remember.
I also got a fantastic blueberry/lemon curd crepe from a food truck creperie that flashed me back to Paris. I loved both the food and the fun little bus, so I did a sketch to remember.
There was also a great book signing at the graphic bookstore Betty’s Books. Beautifully they got in an art hero of mine Lucy Knisley. I found her first graphic memoir An Age of License some years ago, and it (plus my first Ben Hatke book found at the same time) made me want to include more storytelling in my work, which had been purely landscape up until that point. She had a huge influence on my work, and I trace a direct line back from her book to doing several of my own, even if they’re quite different in feel. It was fantastic to hear her talk, meet her in person, and see her delightful hand painted cat dress.
One more lovely day in town was revisiting the St. Louis Art Museum, another favorite place. They had a Vuillard I don’t remember from before on view this time, which makes sense because it’s on cardboard and probably needs to rest for preservation purposes in between times out in the light. I love his patterned interiors and interlocking shapes and had fun doing a sketch while standing in front of it.
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I've been working my way back into my longtime printmaking project of trees at Rowan Oak this week, but I gave myself a holiday for Leap Day yesterday. Thursdays have long been special to me, and it was not only Leap Day but also the 4x4 anniversary of Muddy's Bake Shop, my favorite bakery for both the treats and the warmth and welcome when you walk in the door. They opened 16 years ago on Leap Day and made Memphis instantly a better place.
I also dropped by a couple of thrift stores with a carload of donations, and I ended up coming home with two new-to-me cashmere sweaters for a total of $13.50. A big win. And I feel lighter in my house at the same time.
After lunch I treated myself to a trip to Dixon. I saw their current show of married artists Paul Wonner and Theophilus Brown a few weeks ago, and I can't stop thinking about it. Especially Wonner's portraits. I went and sketched in the semi dark with only dry media, so these are both too saturated and not at all worthy of the paintings that inspired them. But I loved spending the time looking that deeply at paintings I admire from an artist I hadn't known before this show. He was in California with Thiebaud and Diebenkorn, and I can see that throughline. His painted lines have multiple colors making them up, just as Thiebaud's do. One of my longtime favorite artists. I plan to go back and sketch more while the show is still there.
I also dropped by a couple of thrift stores with a carload of donations, and I ended up coming home with two new-to-me cashmere sweaters for a total of $13.50. A big win. And I feel lighter in my house at the same time.
After lunch I treated myself to a trip to Dixon. I saw their current show of married artists Paul Wonner and Theophilus Brown a few weeks ago, and I can't stop thinking about it. Especially Wonner's portraits. I went and sketched in the semi dark with only dry media, so these are both too saturated and not at all worthy of the paintings that inspired them. But I loved spending the time looking that deeply at paintings I admire from an artist I hadn't known before this show. He was in California with Thiebaud and Diebenkorn, and I can see that throughline. His painted lines have multiple colors making them up, just as Thiebaud's do. One of my longtime favorite artists. I plan to go back and sketch more while the show is still there.
