Feeling, not Facts

Willows in Bloom 

Arthur Wesley Dow

Dow was a great teacher and a great artist. He taught and influenced a long list of creatives from Georgia O'Keefe to William S. Rice.

Here he is in 1890.

My favorite Arthur Wesley Dow quote: "The artist does not teach us to see facts; he teaches us to feel harmonies and to recognize supreme quality."

Dow was part of a time in history bursting with invention, innovation, and discovery, he also believed in art for everyone; one of his goals was to provide quality art at a reasonable price. Peyton Boswell, writing about Dow's prints: "They occupy a middle ground between the art demands of the wealthy and those of the poor, and satisfy both. Although not costing much, they are real art and fulfill their mission to be decorative and bring happiness."

I offer the following artworks by artists taught and influenced by Arthur Wesley Dow. They are some of my favorites. I've learned from them as I've learned from the works and words of Dow. 

They give me feeling, not facts. I wish the same for you.

Untitled 

Alice Ravenel Huger Smith

Telegraph Poles 

Clarence H. White

Lamp Base 

Newcomb Pottery

The Pier Alvin 

Langdon Coburn

Paris Rooftops 

Max Weber

Thanks for reading!

Pinocchio Versions from 1883 to 2014

Roberto Innocenti, 1988

Pinocchio kills the talking cricket.

 

Yup, Pinocchio smashes the cricket with a mallet in the original tale by Carlo Collodi. I like Disney's version, but am pretty much enthralled by Collodi's book. Unlike Disney's interpretation of a naïve and gullible Pinocchio, Collodi's puppet is a saucy, selfish, woodenheaded brat throughout most of his horrific adventures, which include being stabbed and hung by the fox and cat.

 

Roberto Innocenti's illustrations remain favorites of mine. They are gorgeous, dramatic watercolors that don't shrink from the violence within the tale, and also celebrate the evolution and eventual redemption of Pinocchio. Check out the atmosphere in these:

 

Pinocchio meets the fox and the cat.

 





Pinocchio is hanged by the assassins

 

The magical piece of wood from whence came Pinocchio.

 

The book is tough to come by, but be sure to see more of  Roberto Innocenti's artwork at http://www.robertoinnocenti.com/

 

Many illustrators have tackled the irritating little puppet's story. Here are a few of my favorites, which range from early black and white engravings to lushly detailed paintings:

 

 



Enrico Mazzanti, 1883

 

Carlo Chiostri, 1901

 

Charles Copeland, 1904

 

 

Attilio Mussino, 1911

 

 

Luigi Cavalieri, 1924

 

Gianbattista Galizzi, 1942

 

And last, this inspiring, fresh illustration by Kayla Edgar, 2014.

It blew me away when I first saw it!

Please enjoy more of Ms. Edgar's amazing work at http://kaylaedgar.com/ 

 

Thanks, as always, for reading!

 

*Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi, compiled by Cooper Edens,

was my source for most of the illustrations in this post. You can buy it used at

 http://www.amazon.com/Pinocchio-Classic-Illustrated-Carlo-Collodi/dp/0811822834/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1407873433&sr=1-1&keywords=Pinocchio+cooper+edens 

 

 

 



Heinrich Vogeler

 Die Hex mit Eule (The Witch with Owl), by Heinrich Vogeler, etching, 1895.

Recently ran across this work by Vogeler, which was unknown to me. Not only am I drawn to images of witches, ghosts, and the metaphysical, in this particular case it was the placement of the bright whites of the hair, trees, and toadstool. Check out that serene but creepy smile on the witch, and that exquisite door. 

Heinrich Vogeler

More on Vogeler: http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/631806/Heinrich-Vogeler

Thanks for the visit!

Of Haunted Clocks and Clockwork Monks

http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

Old clocks have been a passion for years. Like most vintage objects, they were crafted 

with the artistic care that doesn't exist these days, in modern clocks at least. This particular 

beauty--not working and pretty beat -up--was found for me by my brother. 

As creepy-looking as it is, this is not the haunted one.

Still, I like it--tend to like the inside as much as the outside.

I'm not an horology fanatic, but I readily admit to being a clockworks nerd, so I can't 

imagine these gears being uninteresting to anyone.

http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

Now this fellow--in working order and the best time-keeper I own--is my absolute favorite. 

And it's haunted. I'll get to that.

But first--the aesthetics! Look how the wood grain in the twist still glows--even though the finish is checked and worn. The scratched and rubbed face shows that it was well-used and wound for years. And the ghost-story?

When I got this clock, it worked right away, ticking along like clockwork. But when brought to 

my studio, it stopped and refused to run. I took it to Jake, my clock repairman, who got it ticking right away. Still, I had him clean it and keep it for a few days to make sure it was running well.

Took it back to the studio and it stopped again, not a tic nor a tock to be heard.

So back to Jake's shop, where of course, the clock started right up.

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"There's nothing wrong with this clock," he said, matter of fact. Then, raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Is there another clock in your studio? 'Cause if there is, I'd try taking it out. Bet this one will work then. Seen this kind of thing before. You know clocks, they got wound and touched a lot by the owners, so they get haunted quite a bit. And sometimes they don't much like any competition."

Not a skeptic when it comes to that sort of thing, I removed an old clock--not a favorite--that I'd had ticking in the studio for a few years. And after that, you got it: This great old stubborn and haunted clock 

has been working fine ever since!

http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

But speaking of haunted, this is the guy that I'm sure initiated my itch for the clockworks.

I snapped this photo when my wife and I, as a young couple, visited the Smithsonian and saw it in 

a case there. I wanted it so badly!

Here are a few more views from the internet, and a video of the ancient monk walking around. Made in 1560, this eerie automaton still works.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ycyj76VPOtc

http://tomsarmo.com/

The best I can do, since I can't have the monk, is collect and draw old clocks. It sort of 

scratches the itch, so that's gotta be enough for now.

Thanks for reading!

You are where you are

http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

Little Guys. A sketch-in-progress.

Showing my work; to a client, in a gallery, a show, or even on the web, often makes me nervous and nit-picky about my progress, ability, worth. That's natural I guess, but not pleasant.

Sometimes it's good for an artist--for anyone--to step back and realize they are where they are right now, and that it's got to be a good place.

Here's my smudgy latest sketch, non-embellished. I'm pretending to post it without reservation. 

I really don't know which little guy is me.

Thanks for the visit!

Edward Lear's Legacy

Corsica. Edward Lear

Edward Lear's birthday is in May, so before the month ends, thought I'd add a tribute. 

Especially since his works have influenced me all my life.

One night, talking with some young artists, the mention of limericks brought some 

confusion to their faces. Lear's name didn't seem to ring any bells either.

I sure hope Lear's work is not fading into obscurity.

I love it partly because it was so diverse. He painted drop-dead 

watercolor landscapes like the one above.

Toucan. Edward Lear

His paintings of birds--well, in comparison, I never did understand the appeal of Audubon.

His self-portraits, and "silly" drawings--I'd give a lot to have this kind of genius...

...and the kind that could write nonsense this sublime.

Nowadays it seems that artists must squash any diversity and 

limit their output to a single style if they are to receive any notice or reward. 

Glad Edward Lear's times were not so limiting.

Happy Birth-month, Mr. Lear!

Once Upon a Time

Lisbeth Zwerger. From Hansel and Gretel.
(Ms. Zwerger's work, across the board, is incredible.)

I'm celebrating some pictures I love from a different, but fairly recent time in
the history of literature.

Alice and Martin Provensen. From The Provensen's Book of Fairytales.
(A true classic. Which of their books isn't?)

I'm also complaining.
Now, I'm normally not one to cry and moan over the lost "good old days". Most of them were good only in time-mellowed and mangled memory--not in reality.

But still, pull up your chair and let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time there were children's book publishers in the U.S. that truly focused on children and literature. That's no fairy tale. Those houses hired and respected editors like Ursula Nordstrom, Charlotte Zolotow, and Margery Cuyler. Publishers allowed those editors the freedom and the time to nurture authors and artists like the young Maurice Sendak, Trina Schart Hyman, Chuck Mikolaycak, and Syd Hoff.

Charles Mikolaycak. From The Highwayman.
(An amazing book with stunning pictures, as are all of Mikolaycak's books.)

It was a time before tabloid-kings had bought up the great publishing houses and turned many children's book departments into money-losing ventures that made books into toys and venerated
celebrity rather than art. 

It was a time when many authors and illustrators could make a living out of the craft they
loved and spent years to develop.

Trina Schart Hyman. From Little Red Riding Hood.
(Ms. Hyman was seriously one of the best. Do yourself a favor and check out all of her works.)

It was a time when children's books actually generated more income than the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. It was a time when making literature for children could be a
vocational, life-long career, not just a hobby.

It was a time when children's book publishers actually promoted the books that writers and illustrators made. (Yes Virginia, once upon a time authors and illustrators didn't have to do it all at their own expense.) It was a time when visionary-but-poor writers and illustrators actually had a chance to cultivate and establish their craft.

Tomie dePaola. From The Clown of God.
(DePaola's books are bursting with "heart")

It was a time when devoted and loving book illustrators and writers, not
hate-radio personalities, won awards.

Don't get me wrong, there are many wonderful new books out there for
children I'm sure, but things have changed big-time. I don't see that it's for the better.
Not for writers and illustrators, and especially not for kids and literature.

On that note, I'll leave you with a link to a wonderful interview with the late,
modern genius; Maurice Sendak:
http://publishingperspectives.com/2012/11/maurice-sendak-publishing-is-such-an-outrageously-stupid-profession/ 

And thanks for reading.

Reading vs. Seeing

Back in art school, used bookstores were pretty much the only places to find great instruction books from the early part of the 20th century.  Even some of the standards--those by the greats like Andrew Loomis--had yet to be re-issued.

Luckily, there must have been quite a few artists in Denver who had personal libraries. These ended up in old bookstores that were scattered over the city; and as many as I could afford landed in my bookcase.

I've owned, read, and re-read John Vanderpoel's The Human Figure since art school. 

The key to this one, like to many older art instruction volumes is in the reading. These days, there's much visual information from which to learn, and it is awesome, but sometimes there are riches to be discovered in the texts--often taken right from the lectures--of great teachers like Vanderpoel. Check out the following excerpt:

The inner corner of the eye is farther forward than the outer, so that a section of the exposed portion of the eyeball from corner to corner would slope backward from the center of the face; this enables the eyes to swing sidewise for observation without turning the head. The outer corner also is somewhat higher than the inner.

My powers of observation were not keen enough to give me this kind of info. 

How many times did I hear a teacher say "Just draw what you see."?  

How many times is it still said in art classes? It sets my teeth on edge! 

Maybe some artists can learn that way, but I had to hear or read this stuff before I could 

actually observe it. And frankly, that information wasn't being offered in any 

of my college art classes.

So I found it in old books. And I try to pass it on when I teach.

The Dover paperback edition of Vanderpoel's book is identical to mine, 

with the exception of the cool cover and this decorative title page.

http://store.doverpublications.com/0486204324.html

I still haunt the few remaining used bookstores in the city, and there are still treasures to be 

found in them for a lot less than online sources. And it helps to actually read them.

Thanks for reading this!

For more information on John Vanderpoel:

http://vanderpoelartmuseum.org/

Pen and Ink (Plus a Franken-Creature Sequence)

http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

Frank-in-Progress.

I'm smitten with pen and ink. Always have been. Nothing gets me to the state of 

total creative awareness like the zen act of making repetitive lines with pen and ink. 

Time stops, the outside world disappears, and I don't care that my studio is in chaos.

Really, most times the studio is pretty neat, 

but working towards a show deadline has me more 

concerned with production than clutter. Plus, it's not fair that in some 

past posts, the studio has appeared mostly organized.  

This messed up work-space brings me to the real point of this post: Pen and ink!

On the drawing table is this book:

This version, published in 1930, was found it in a used book store a few months ago, and it is stunning! My go-to volume when I want to explore and revitalize my pen-work. I've owned the newer edition of it (titled Rendering in Pen and Ink) since art school, but this old fellow trumps that one with more illustrations and thorough discussion.

Sorry about the phone pics, but I wasn't about to cram this onto my scanner.

Here are the end papers. Yes, admittedly, I am an old-book nerd. 

As a kid, fascinated with line, I studied Tenniel's illustrations for the Alice books, Dore's illustrations--especially those from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and the works of John Leech. Like Franklin Booth, I mistakenly thought those engravings were pen and ink drawings. Unlike Franklin Booth's beautiful renderings, my resulting works are far from elegant and controlled. Random and spontaneous they are, and quickly drawn...

 ...like this detail shows.

Still, revisiting Arthur Guptill's book put me in the mood to explore, so the following 

Frankenstein's Creature-sequence shows a bit more self-control. Not that I like it any better, it's just different.

The extent of my thumbnail output for this one.

http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

An in-progress detail.

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Same detail with a warm acrylic wash and some highlight-lifting...

http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

...and some strengthened highlights with white gouache.

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Finally, a bit of acrylic ink for color.

Granted, the ink-line application is only slightly less random and unruly than usual, but it was a blast to do, 

and I learned a lot.

Thanks--as always-- for reading!