Steampunk Wings and Still Stuff

I really want to see more 1860s inspired steampunk impressions... there's a world of amazing stuff out there from the bustle-era onwards, but it seems as though the steamy age of the 50s and 60s is quite overlooked.

Oil on Masonite, 18"x24"

Also, apologies for falling behind a bit on the internet!  Even though I drew the initial sketch for this painting last summer, I didn't get around to actually painting it until about four weeks ago.  It was really great to be properly painting again... I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it.

In the spirit of getting back into the practice of regularly painting, I did a couple small still lives recently as well.  It had been several years since I'd painted from life, and even longer since I'd done a still life of any kind.  What I'd managed to forget, however, is how incredibly boring I find still lives to be.  There must be some sort of magical method or prop that would make the practice interesting, but as it stands, I find this sort of thing incredibly dull.  Good practice, but so tedious.  Both are oil on canvas paper, 9"x12".

I have a final sketch and prepped board ready for the next painting, and I'm really rather excited about it.  There'll actually be a real background and environment for once!

And next weekend I'll be travelling up to Michigan for my favorite Civil War event, so hopefully there'll be good pictures and interesting tales to relate after that.  I'll be taking a sketchbook along with me too... I've never sat and sketched people at a reenactment before, but I think it could be a lot of fun! (also, I really don't feel like doing handwork or knitting these days, yet I don't want to be completely filled with sloth and idleness)  ;)

Miniatures: putting the brush to... clay

So.  Right.  Miniatures.

The research was easier than I thought it would be; mainly thanks to my access to the Rockefeller Library here at CW, which contains nearly every book published that pertains in any useful way to the eighteenth century.  The technical process on the other hand... well, that's a whole other kettle of fish.

I recently found a link to a vendor than sells all sort of materials for miniature painting, including several ivory substitutes.  While I fully intend to order and try a variety of these, I wanted to get painting (and practicing) at once and decided to experiment with polymer clay.

I rolled out the clay as smoothly as possible, and trimmed it to match the little frame that I have.  Since I wasn't sure which color would simulate ivory the most after baking, I made three different samples in: Ivory (natch), Winter Cream, and Translucent.  Oddly enough, Translucent came out a sort of clear, fleshy tone... way too pinky to be used for this sort of thing.  Winter Cream was a good color, but a bit too chalky in appearance.  Happily, the Ivory actually did look the most like ivory, and I set out to paint.

I started on a little shmushed piece that I'd baked as well, just to get a feel for the watercolor on this sort of surface.  Watercolor is persnickety at the best of times, but when you are applying it to a nearly totally non-absorbent surface it turns somewhat evil.  The most terrifying part which I found, is that even when the paint was dry, if you dripped water on it or added a wet wash, it lifted right back off again... just like it does on a palette.

This really hammered home to me why miniature painters nearly all employed a sort of stippled technique, as it is the least disturbing to paint already laid down.

For the very first miniature, I decided to simply copy an original, as I'm not attempting to do anything other than get a handle on the medium.  So far I've merely done a light outline and started to lay in the background.  We'll see how it progresses...

Just a fly-by

I've been quite busy recently, and have spent the last week or two since my last post up to my ears in painting/researching/planning my future.

First miniature is underway, and I promise I'll post about that soon.  I've discovered that, perhaps due to the small scale (to which I'm still adjusting), I can only work on it during daylight hours.  If I want to work on it after dusk I'll need to finally buy a decent flexible lamp.  Since the bulk of my days are taken up with my regular 8-5 job, I don't have a lot of daylight once I've gotten home and eaten dinner and regained a bit of energy.  As this means I can't really work on the miniature during the week, I also started a new oil painting.  It's kind of steampunkish, and I'm really hoping it turns out half as good as it looks in my imagination.

Getting back into "serious" painting fits into the whole "planning my future" bit I mentioned in my first sentence.  I have lots of ideas for new pieces, and lots of ambitions regarding heading towards an eventual art career.  However, nothing will ever happen until I put together decent, and coherent, body of work.  That is my goal for the summer.  Also been reading lots about art fairs and visiting local galleries etc.  It's all rather frightening, but not, I think, unachievable.

And totally unrelated to anything else, just check out John Singer Sargent's studio!

I can only imagine working in a space like that... but I suppose sheer genius deserves the best.

Tackling the portrait miniature

Queen Charlotte by Jeremiah Meyer- 1772

It kind of goes without saying that miniatures are not only way cool but extremely prevalent in the 18th century, in the latter half of which they truly enjoyed their heyday.  The problem is, no one does them nowadays.  (actually, if anyone knows of anyone in the world who paints 18th cen style miniatures, I'd love to see their work)

Painting miniatures was one of those few occupations considered genteel enough for a lady, and while a large number of professionals had a thriving business painting miniatures it was also a hobby often picked up by amateurs.  In 1712, a writer for The Spectator noted, "limning, one would think is no expensive Diversion, but... she paints fans for all her female acquaintance and draws all her relations pictures in miniature".  While Europe seems to have been more accepting of female artists in a professional capacity than America was during the 18th century, there are certainly references to ladies learning painting and drawing here during that time.  By the early 19th century a few women were working as miniature painters, and the number of female artists rapidly increased as time went on.

All of this fits perfectly with my long-standing desire to combine fine art and reenacting in an appropriate and enjoyable manner.

-First step:  Look at LOOOOTTTSSSSS of miniatures

-Second step:  Read primary documents concerning The Art of Drawing and Painting in Water-Colours, and Miniatura or the Art of Limning, etc.

-Third step:  Research tools and materials.  Try not to get too bogged down in the thrill of Artists Pigments c. 1660-1835. (No, seriously... this book is epicly awesome.  I could, and may yet, write a very long blog post on just a few snippets of info found within its pages.)

-Fourth step:  Read more about the history of portrait miniatures, or, as they were more commonly known before the mid to late 18th cen, 'limnings'.

-Last step:  Hold my breath, cross my fingers, and just paint.

(will post more later about materials, techniques, and my progress)

New clothes! 18th Cen. Jacket in Pink

I shall preface this post with the disclaimer that the jacket is Not-Done-Yet and is still in want of trim.  That said, I've worn it twice now to two different gatherings, and wanted to document its existence.



The jacket is made of a pink cotton homespun, lined with a natural medium-weight linen.  This was one of those situations where I had both fabrics in my stash and really didn't want to spend extra money... Also, I'm trying very hard to move away from blue in my costuming, as about 2/3's of my historical wardrobe is in the blue family.  Not sure how successful I'll be in the long run, as I still adore blue (and it never fails to look good on me).

Like the majority of my historical clothes, the interior seams are all done by machine, but everything visible is hand-work.





The fullness of the skirts is achieved with five inverted box pleats, one at each seam, which are whipped to the lining for stability.

The pattern is very loosely based off the robe à l'anglaise in Jean Hunnisett's book.  I say "very loosely" as I looked at it for general sizing, and drew what I thought would work.  Fortunately, it did.  I didn't bother drafting a sleeve pattern though, and just adapted one of Nicole's personal sleeve bases.

I'll probably write more about research and general info once I really truly finish it, and can post pictures of it in all its trimmed glory.

Paintings of the lower sort- still in 1795!

Unless I decide to add backgrounds, the paintings are done. 

I worked quite a bit smaller than normal on these, using paper about 12x20 inches large for each piece, with the figures being approximately 6-9 inches tall.  That's about the size I normally like to paint faces.

One of the things that had impressed me about the original 1795 ad was how colorful so many of the garments described were.  I tried to get that same feeling of color in the paintings without it turning into a circus (though that would have been fun... late 18th cen circus... hmmm).  After all, how often do you ever run across yellow, purple, and white striped trousers?

These were all painted on rag paper primed with gesso, and, as per my usual, are done with oil paints.

Common men sketches

When breaking down the list of clothing in the ad from 1795, it was decided to mix and match the garments on a variety of figures.  We settled on having six figures total spread across three separate illustrations.

Naturally, the first step of any project is to sketch it in order to work out general composition and provide a point of reference for the painting.  Depending on how good my reference images are changes how detailed the sketch is.

I shamelessly ripped off the pose from Thomas Rowlandson's Seaman for this one.  As it's in public domain, the only real issue at hand is my oftimes inherent laziness.  However, the point of this project is to depict the clothing, not to create pieces of fine art.  In this instance (like when doing costume renderings) I'm quite content to cut a few corners.

Once the sketches were approved and changes discussed, it was time for the actual paintings to begin...