The docents at Rancho Camulos enjoy dressing up and playing the part of the residents long since gone. Beth was kind enough to water this lovely vine, holding the pose for several artists. I wasn't going to post this effort but my daughter encouraged me to blog the painting. She said "look at it in the dark, the painting glows". And so here it is, the "Watering Can".

Oil on panel, 12" X 9"

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Nobody expects the Inquisition, but Paolo Veronese should have expected that his depiction of Christ at The Last Supper should have caused some trouble. Veronese, who was born in 1528 and died on April 9, 1528, changed the title of the painting from The Last Supper to The Feast in the House of Levi (above, from 1573), hoping to get the Catholic church off his back. By painting Christ’s solemn last meal with his apostles like a wild fraternity party, Veronese offended the sensibilities of church officials and put not only his career but his life in jeopardy. Making matters even worse was the grand scale of the painting, one of the largest works done in the sixteenth century on canvas. There was no way to hide this painting, just as there was no way to hide Veronese’s genius.



Veronese’s The Wedding at Cana (above, from 1563) shows a similar scene, but the religious implications were different enough for him to get away with this party setting. Again, Christ sits at the center of the action, surrounded by raucous party animals. He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself, which is probably what saved Veronese from censure. Veronese concentrated on the life of Christ rather than his death, reflecting Veronese’s own bubbling energy and love of living in the moment. Part of me wishes that Veronese had depicted Christ in a pose similar to that portrayed by Willem Dafoe as Jesus in the film version of The Last Temptation of Christ when Jesus miraculously transforms the water into wine at Cana. When the wine is discovered, they look at Jesus with amazement. Dafoe’s Jesus simply raises his cup in a toast to them. Party on.



Veronese always seems more comfortable painting mythological figures, who posed no pitfalls for his relationship with the church. In Mars and Venus United by Love (above, from 1576-1582) Veronese used this license to its fullest in creating an allegory of love civilizing this war-torn world. Cupid literally ties the knot that binds Mars and Venus. The milk of human kindness flows from Venus’ breast. Mars’ horse, his primary instrument of war, finds itself reigned in as his master indulges in love. While other artists depicted gruesome crucifixions as instruments of meditation on the next life, Veronese painted works of beauty and joy as invitations to meditate on the joys of this life. Amazingly, such a message could get you in trouble with the spiritual gatekeepers of the time. Even then, it was difficult to ask “What’s so funny about peace, love, and understanding?”

Hello!

I tried something a little different tonight, a kindof manga inspired painting. Im gonna do more to this, I like where its going, I just need to work out what to do with those legs and the background etc. Also, It needs more contrast.

The sketchy painty sepia image is also something different to what I usually do - creature sketches. Im working on some alien concepts for the CGsociety challenge.

Ive also got some sketches too! Was out sketching today with some mates. Observational drawing. I was trying out biro sketching, and some graphite stick sketches.

Unfortunately I cant seem to arrange my images in the way I would like. So I will have to make do with this messy layout. Ah well.

Ken :D

Blue Period, 1981 by William Wegman, Pace Gallery, NY.

This work references Picasso's Blue period.

There is a William Wegman retrospective called Funney/Strange at the Wexner Center, OSU in Columbus, OH that is full of a lot of interesting pieces from his career. He did these paintings where he used real postcards and worked them into a painting.

OK, OK, I know, another baseball you ask? I'm having fun. These baseball paintings are a blast to paint and compose with. I have so many ideas for them I may do one a week. This is my third painting in the series so finding a title was easy.



This painting has a strange story behind it. Baseball announcers have always used colorful expressions and witticisms to keep the game interesting. They talk almost none stop for the entire game so the best ones can get very verbally creative. Bob Uecker is probably the funniest play -by play announcer I have heard. You have seen him in the movies Major League and Major League 2.



click on the image to enlarge the painting
Strike Three
original by Peter Yesis
8"x10"
oil on canvas board
(Click Here to Bid on EBay)

I grew up listening to Phil Rizzuto call the games for the New York Yankees. His famous expression every time a home run was hit was "Holy Cow". I don't know where I heard the expression that inspired this piece, " Strike three- Ring the Bell". It probably was only said one time in the history of baseball by some unknown broadcaster trying his best to come up with something clever to say during a slow game, but it stuck in my head.

I placed the ball on top of the bell in the middle of the box to represent the middle of the strike zone.

White and Pink Roses by Henri Fantin-Latour, Private Collection.

A friend of the Impressionists Manet and Bazille, in his early career Fantin-Latour was part of the traditional academic salon. He loosened his brush strokes after he came to know the Impressionists and their techniques.

click on the image to enlarge the paintingOn The Inside Corner
original by Peter Yesis
6"x6"
oil on canvas board
SOLD
I couldn't think of a good name... I started with Baseball No.2 or it could have been: Strike Two or Ball Two or Ball in a Box. But On the Inside Corner was the only one I liked.

I kept this one a little looser than the first, also used thicker paint. I was more interested in the light than I was in the detail. Some of the best practice pieces come when you don't care about detail. They always end up having more feeling to them.

Jewel Box, c. 1900 by Archibald Knox, MoMA, NY.

Knox used Celtic designs as influence for the line of precious metal products he designed for the famous Liberty & Co. department store in London. His line was introduced in 1903.

Oceans of vegetable greens ripple in the wind. The valley that runs from Piru to Santa Paula is a quilt of farms, hemmed in by eucalyptus and poplar trees. Orange groves stop and start varying the view. This painting is a tiny glimpse of the beauty of Piru this spring.

Oil on Linen, 9" X 12"

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“My constitutional nature has presented formidable obstacles to the attainment of that truly desirable character, a consistent and exemplary member of the Religious Society of Friends,” wrote Edward Hicks in his posthumously published Memoirs, “ one of which is an excessive fondness for painting, a trade to which I was brought up, being connected with coach making, and followed the greatest part of my life.” Born April 4, 1780 and reborn around 1800 as a Quaker minister, Hicks continually fought his “fondness for painting,” which he saw as worldly and sinful, “a link in the chain of anti-Christian foibles next to music and dancing.” Hicks found resolution in creating religious images promoting the pacifism of the Society of Friends, most famously the sixty or so works known as The Peaceable Kingdom. The example above (from 1833-1834) not only depicts the words of Chapter 11 of the Book of Isaiah, where the lion lays down with the lamb and a little child leads them, but also shows the Quaker founder of Pennsylvania, William Penn, forming a peace treaty with the local Lenape tribe. In 1999, I saw nearly half of the Peaceable Kingdom paintings all together at an exhibition at the PMA. The sheer repetition of the imagery wore me down a bit, but I wish now that I’d have gone back to look more closely at this unique figure in American art.



Because he painted the words of Isaiah so many times, it’s hard to imagine him painting anything else. Of course, Hicks grew up painting carriages and store signs first as an apprentice and later as the owner of his own business. “I should be a burthen on my family or friends were it not for my knowledge of painting,” Hicks wrote, acknowledging that all his service to the Society of Friends brought him no income. I’m fascinated by Hicks’ Washington at the Delaware (above, from 1849) in how it portrays Hicks’ perception of the heroic George Washington, whose mythology bloomed beyond reason immediately after his death and continued to grow throughout the nineteenth century. Living in the Delaware Valley of Pennsylvania, Hicks undoubtedly knew people who had seen Washington in action and perhaps even fought at his side. Characteristically, Hicks shows Washington during a moment of peace, being too much of a pacifist to show the Father of His Country in battle. Hicks’ painting of Washington’s horse is wonderful. After riding horseback for thousands of miles, preaching the Quaker way as far as Canada, Hicks clearly knew every inch of what a horse looked like.



Hicks’ memoirs frustrate for the most part those looking for some glimpse into his painting style. Most of the memoirs deal with his faith, sprinkling disparaging remarks about painting here and there. I’d love to know what was going through Hicks’ mind when he put those human-like features on the animals in some of his Peaceable Kingdom paintings or where he saw some of the more exotic animals gathered in his Noah’s Ark (above, from 1846). Hicks, however, does end his memoirs by evoking the words of Isaiah: “Finally, my friends, farewell! May the melancholy be encouraged and the sanguine quieted; may the phlegmatic be tendered and the choleric humbled; may self be denied and the cross of Christ worn as a daily garment; may his peaceable kingdom for ever be established in the rational, immortal soul; then will be fulfilled the prophetic declaration of the infinitely wise Jehovah, through his evangelical prophet—“The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf, and the young lion, and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them… Nothing shall hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.” How amusing it would be to Hicks that his most lasting legacy of his pacifist faith would be the paintings he saw as a sinful diversion from God’s work.