Crooked Noses & Sad Eyes

Grasshoppers were my first live models. Watching them eat clover leaves, half jumping and half flying, I was learning little things about their nature. I didn't know it then, but I was learning things about all sorts of things, drawing from life. Dusting ants from the peonies I drew wasn't helping the peonies. Mom told me the ants helped them to open. Rabbits eating the tops off Mom's tulips, I learned, was why she was always chasing them from the yard. I never got a good drawing of a rabbit.  Sometimes I had to ask my brother Mike about things, like why I shouldn't draw certain people. Dad wouldn't explain, just that I shouldn't.

No camera in New York, so I had to rely on my drawings to do paintings of the dock workers, and hippies in Central Park. I love drawing from life, especially pretty girls. Getting to know them and listening to their stories added to the experience. Crooked noses, and sad eyes became important to me as I got to know those who sat for me. A worn shirt and a busted thumb were things I found at the fish market.  

I made it a point to learn about people. Placing the farmers I drew in front of their barns. Ladies relaxing, reading with cats in their laps, and golden retrievers peeking out from under wicker chairs. 

Working from life, I believe artists teach themselves. They get to know little things and work a bit harder trying to get those little things just so - like a model's crooked nose or the colors in a dead tree. Why a leaf is a bit blue while the leaf next to it is more yellow-green?   

A student wanted me to help him do a portrait of his wife. He had a beautiful commercial photograph of his wife. I asked him what his wife loves doing to relax. That is how he should portray her not from a photo as someone else sees her.  Painting is personal, painting shows love, one never dies having been painted.    

From a Tea Service to Models

The tea service set used to sit behind glass in our dining room sideboard. One day I decided to do a painting of it. Nothing special about it other than it looked eloquent and that made it great for a still-life. Mom about had a cow when she found out I had it in my studio for doing a painting. Things did not mean all that much for me back then... Like taking my sister's doll apart for a still-life. Never did get that doll put back together. The things I put into still-lifes were just things. Indian corn was simply an interesting challenge that seemed to sell. Grandma’s tea service was different because Mom told me the importance of it to her.

Grandma Sachen got the tea service as a wedding gift. It was very important to mom, who only used it when special people visited and it was the one thing that us kids were told to keep our hands off, not even to dry it when it was our turn to dry dishes.  

Grandma Sachen died before I was born. I had to imagine her from how Mom described her. 

Instead of just painting away I found myself taking a bit more care about how I mixed just the perfect colors and putting the paint on with just the right stroke. I imagined a young bride serving tea with the tea pot. I even made tea and drank it from one of the cups. Slowly I began to realize the importance of having a real connection to my subject . 

When I teach, I tell people to make a real connection to a subject. That is why I engage in conversations with my models.