"The Zorn Palette " - Diana Moses Botkin's Art Challenge - March 2012

"Laura and Vincent"
Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel - 8" x 10"

Rather than go into a lengthy biography of the artist Anders Zorn (1860-1920), I have linked to a very good one by Mattias Sammekull. (Just click his name above.)

Sweden's answer to John Singer Sargent, Zorn is best known for his lush society portraits, sunlit nudes, bravado brushwork and his use of the so-called "Zorn Palette," a palette limited to just four pigments: vermillion, yellow ochre, ivory black and lead white. A perusal of his oeuvre would give evidence to the fact that he was not slavish to this limitation. Indeed, many tubes of blue pigments were found in his paintbox, but that could be said of any of us. I have dozens of tubes of paint that I have never, or seldom, opened. Perhaps this self portrait, showing him with this limited palette, started the whole thing. Who knows?

In any case, I am grateful to him and to Vicki Ross, who choose this month's challenge, for inspiring me to new heights. Indeed, I have not felt this electrified in a very, very long time. This challenge has provided the missing link for me, the piece of the puzzle that has been missing in my flesh formula. With the inclusion of cold greys and greyed out yellows, I am seeing in a completely new way. Although I did use a variation of Zorn's, my old palette was very dutch in nature, heavy on earth pigments such as burnt umber, raw umber and Van Dyke brown. The problem with a dutch palette, at least for me, is that it dries extremely fast and you can't paint wet on wet for very long. With Zorn's palette you have almost two days to move things around. While I am thanking people, I should give a shout out to whoever it was that gave me the tip about freezing one's palette at night to keep the paint from drying out and skinning. Good one!

Below are my fellow challenge artists' works for the month. I think the landscape painters had to have the toughest job of all as Zorn's palette, while perfect for figure and portrait work, is not well-suited for Mother Nature's vast spectrum. Brava!

"Pensive" 10"x 8" oil

Diana Moses Botkin ©2012

"Water" 6"x 6" oil

Becky Joy ©2012

"Isabelle" 14" x 11 oil

Vicki Ross ©2012


"Travelers" oil 9"x7"
Mary Maxam ©2012

"Vincent on quilted pillow"

Oil on museum quality Ampersand Gessobord™ panel - 8" x 10"

The recent spate of posthumous pet portraits has led me to the archives and this image of my own dearly departed Vincent. If you have ever read Cleveland Amory's "The cat who came for Christmas" you will understand the reference that Vincent was my "Polar Bear". A cat like him comes along once in a lifetime (if you're lucky). I am twice blessed because J.J., too, is such a cat, (meaning no disrespect to Sammy, Shirley or Ella). Vincent was only with us for ten years and struggled with uncontrolled diabetes for the last 3 1/2 of those. We planned our social schedule around his 12 hour insulin routine. What a brave boy he was! Because his blood sugar had wild swings up and down, we had to test it just before giving his shot. The drill was this: heat a small sock filled with rice in the microwave. Press it to his ear until the blood warmed and shine a small flashlight to see a vein. Prick it with a retractable lance pen and get a sample then calculate the amount of insulin. You would think the sound of the microwave would send him hiding under the bed. On the contrary - he would saunter into the kitchen and flop over on the rug, knowing he was going to get lots of love and attention. God, I miss him.

"Anna" - R.I.P.

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 8"

I suppose you've been wondering what happened to me. Had my muse run off to Monaco to play baccarat? Had I shuffled off this artists life and joined a monastery? Not quite. Sadly, I had been nursing my dear Anna who was battling two powerful foes - cancer and old age. She finally succumbed to their one-two punch yesterday and I had to intercede on her behalf. Not the way I would have chosen to celebrate St. Patrick's Day I assure you. This kind of intervention is not conducive to the creative process. Perhaps if I were a watercolor painter my work would have taken on a Grace Hartigan quality. Salty tears make for some interesting effects while working in a wet medium. I was able to steel myself to paint a commemorative portrait today. God speed, Anna. I hope you are frolicking with Vincent, Theo, Marco and your mom. At least you are no longer in pain. I wish I could say the same.

"Self portrait with Vincent"

Oil on Canvas 16" x 24"

Tomorrow the theme of the daily painters is self-portraits. I was really looking forward to doing something fun with it until the robbery. Today was spent dealing with insurance people and data recovery so I didn't get into the studio to paint. To tell the truth my heart just wasn't in it. The other problem is I look kind of weird right now (er, more weird than usual). To celebrate my birthday we had a few folks over for a 50's themed dinner party. Since I was halfway there already, given my propensity for black turtlenecks, bongos and berets, I decided to go full beatnik daddy-o. I trimmed off the Santa beard and left the goatee which I dyed dark brown. To add to the authenticity I had my copy of Allen Ginsberg's Howl in my pocket in case an impromptu poetry reading was called for. I fear I may look like one of those sad men who use Clairol "just for men" a bit too long. I thought it would wash out but this stuff is good. I cut what was left of my beard really short and the grey is just starting to peek through. Before you know it I'll be getting the senior discount again.

I did this painting in 2005 after my beloved Vincent went to join his brother Theo in the morning stars.

"China"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8"

Here is a better view of my sweet China.  Her piercing blue eyes could melt the hardest heart. Non-cat people say that cats are too independent, that they wouldn't give you the time of day. These people never met China.  She would come when called, loved to play fetch, would scold you when she felt it was time for bed and if you were sitting down she was in your lap.  She was so light you never even felt her jump up, but look down and there she was. Her daughter, Anna, has many of her charming qualities. I thought China might get lost against all these patterns but I think it works. That deep purple and beige ottoman lives in my studio just a few feet behind me while I'm at the easel. If I take too many steps backwards, I go over it like Rob Petrie in the opening credits of the old Dick Van Dyke Show. I'd move it (my studio is 20' x 40') but JJ likes to sit close by while I work. It does keep me from losing my focus. Salvador Dali is said to have nailed a 2x4 on his floor to trip over and bring him back to reality; I have JJ. (I have been moving it ever so slightly towards the window. So far he hasn't noticed)

"China with Kittens"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

I guess the feral kittens outside have reminded me of when my own cat China gave birth to her litter almost eighteen years ago.  The last of which, Anna, is on my lap as I type this, with both paws over my left wrist and her head resting demurely on them. This does not help my already poor typing skill, but if I try and extricate my hand, she takes her paw and puts it back where it was.  I think she is pleased that I finally got around to painting her, albeit if only one day old.  As China got close to delivering, we made her a nesting box and placed a yellow towel on the bottom. Here, exhausted after a long night in labor, she settles in with her new family.  The next night she decided we all should sleep together and one by one placed them on our bed.  Fearing to crush the kittens in our sleep, we tried to persuade her keep them in the nesting box, to no avail.  In the end, we made an island of pillows on the middle of the bed and there the seven of us slept for the next 8 weeks.  It was one of the happiest times of my life.  China, too, lost her battle with cancer three years ago, which was one of the saddest.