Tuesday, February 11, 2014

All Together Now


This is the culmination of my apple-a-day project. I set out to paint a watercolor of a different apple variety every day for thirty days. The original intention of the project was to endeavor a way to make each day I spend in my art studio fruitful in some way. It became an antidote to my artist's block, but much more than that.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Winesap


Winesap

6" x 7"

watercolor on paper

Winesap marks the final apple watercolor in this apple-a-day painting series I began in late November. I saved Winesap for last because its one of the oldest American varieties of apple and because it’s often picked after the first frost. It’s an apple that can take us through winter.  

I started this project after experiencing one too many unproductive, unfocused days in the studio. By “studio” I’m referring to the half of my New York City bedroom that I commandeered for my artistic endeavors. I had the best intentions for the space when I moved into it in October 2012.  The room had an incredible view and fantastic light. I convinced myself that a real artist could create art anywhere.  While I did make some work that I’m quite proud of in this space including Just Drifting and Pick-up at the Pier, I often felt stifled by the lack of space. The need to constantly clean up and move supplies around in order to find my bed under a pile of supplies at the end of each night was endlessly frustrating. It became increasingly obvious to me that the small space was dysfunctional when used as both a bedroom and a studio. My sleep suffered and so did my painting.

It can feel impossible to consider a life outside New York City when you’re living in it. The sounds and lights are so strong and intoxicating that the rhythm of the city becomes indistinguishable from your own heartbeat. I sat down to work each day and felt distracted, unsure where I should put my efforts and fearful that I'd make the wrong choice and waste time. I had little to show for weeks of studio time.  Finally one afternoon in November I put down the large, half-hearted painting I was working on and decided to focus on something smaller.  I grabbed the Macoun apple I had on hand and did a small, simple painting of it.

The purpose of this exercise was to focus my sights on something attainable.  I was experiencing sensory and stimulus overload in New York. I had no focus, but knew I needed to do something to get my confidence back and I needed a routine. Apples are a subject I'd always enjoyed painting. I knew that the assignment to make one small painting each day would give me something purposeful to work toward.

Painting an apple-a-day was the remedy I needed. Thirty apple paintings later, I’m now getting settled into a new life in Providence, Rhode Island where I moved two weeks ago.  Here in the Ocean State I have a true studio space, a room of my own solely devoted to my work. I’m creating new work for the Lyman-Eyer Gallery in Provincetown, MA in anticipation for the summer season there. I have the physical and mental space to focus on my work again. The apple paintings were fortifying!  

Because I undertook the project during the holiday season and during my final weeks living in New York City, I began to think of painting these apples each day as a sort of advent calendar in anticipation of my departure; a countdown of how many days I had left in the Big Apple.

I am thankful to everyone who has shown interest in this project and to those who have purchased these little apple studies. Your kind words and enthusiasm are encouraging and have kept me committed to seeing the project through in the midst of the busy demands of moving and the holiday rush.   

As for the apples, my only regret is that I didn’t start the project a bit earlier in the fall when these beautiful specimens were at their peak. I know I’ve only scratched the surface of painting the thousands of varieties of apples that exist.  I had no trouble finding thirty different apples to paint due in part to undertaking this project while living in New York State where so many orchards abound. I’m thankful for the Union Square Green Market, Fairway, the Shop Rite near my parents house in New Jersey, and the produce guy at Dean & Deluca in Soho who flat out asked me if I was painting apples when he caught me observing an Esopus Spitzenberg a bit too closely.  

For the record, I still like McIntosh the best.

Monday, December 30, 2013

SweeTango


SweeTango

6" x 6"

watercolor on paper

"SweeTango" is a portmanteau of the two adjectives used to describe its flavor: sweet and tangy.  Very clever, guys. At #29, SweeTango marks the penultimate painting in the apple-a-day series. This apple cultivar was only created in 2009, making it the youngest variety I've painted. The marketers of this apple are hoping it will be the next Honeycrisp, the popularity of which I can attest to as it was easily the most commonly noted favorite amongst those I've discussed this project with.  Good luck to you SweeTango. I think your name is a little too twee for the mass market, but what do I know?


Sunday, December 29, 2013

Ambrosia


Ambrosia

6" x 6"

watercolor on paper

Watercolor is a tempestuous beast of a medium. When I was growing up, my mother had a technique book she referenced from time to time called "Watercolor Free & Easy."  It's true that in many aspects of watercolor painting it does help to have a relaxed approach (laying down the sky in a landscape for instance), but the idea that one must be in a perpetually mellow state to come up with anything successful is actually a stress inducing concept to me.  I like to think I spend the vast majority of my life feeling free and easy, but I assure you this is not my reality.  Something to aim for, yes, but in the day to day tumult of life it's not always possible.

Watercolors can go from beautiful to dreadful in only a few brushstrokes which is why by the time you realize you might be onto something worthwhile, you may have nearly lost it.  Sometimes you can correct for minor mistakes, but for the most part you have to live with what you've done.  Learn to appreciate it or move on to the next painting.  


It's this mind game that keeps me coming back to watercolor.  It is difficult, yes, and I always say that for every good painting I have a stack of ten bad ones (which is true).  But, that's life, isn't it? Some days are just going to be shit.  Some days you'll be brilliant. 

I don't love this Ambrosia apple painting. I did at one time in it's process, but I think one of the major points in taking this project on (painting an apple a day) is to accept imperfection and keep going, to remind myself to be "free and easy" about it.  Apples can still be delicious, even with their spots.  

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Junami


Junami

6.5" x 6.5"

watercolor on paper 

It's impossible for me to refer to this Switzerland born apple by its actual name. I read the sticker and my brain only sees:  "Jumanji." 

Friday, December 27, 2013

Jazz


Jazz

7" x 8" 

watercolor on paper


The Jazz varietal is a cross between Gala and Braeburn. For the sake of accuracy, I should divulge that Jazz apples tend to be more uniformly red, but I sought out a particularly yellow-green specimen to better diversify the colors in this series of thirty apples. 


Thursday, December 26, 2013

Sonya


Sonya

6.5" x 6.5"

watercolor on paper


When I began this project of painting an apple each day for thirty days, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get my hands on enough varieties of apples without having to repeat some.  I'm here to report that there is no shortage of apples types!  I'm continually amazed by how many different apples are out there and how they are being marketed.  The Sonya apple comes from New Zealand and is a cross between Gala and Red Delicious.  It has the narrow base that is common to both those varieties, but its flavor and texture are distinct.  

In my selection of which pieces of fruit I choose to paint, I try to find ones that are the most emblematic of their type.  I want to paint the greenest Granny Smith or the tallest and most angular Red Delicious I can find.  This leads to a lot of time spent comparing pieces of fruit at the grocery store and farmer's market and, consequently, a lot of strange looks from people.