Fort Worth Flatiron

This historic Flatiron building, located at 9th & Houston on the southside of downtown Fort Worth, Texas, was erected between 1906-1907.  The inspiration behind the building was the famous New York City flatiron.  With my frequent walks around Fort Worth’s Sundance Square, I usually cannot resist a stroll to the south side so I can see this magnificent structure, particularly on sunny mornings when the east side of it is washed in the yellow sunlight.

I have been at work on this piece for a couple of weeks, but sadly, I cannot seem to give it any more than an hour at a time, sometimes only five-to-ten minutes.  There are simply too many distractions getting in the way.  I can say that finally there is enough pigment on the paper that I can get “more interested” in the painting aspect, although there is still plenty of detail drawing to pursue, and I do find that time-consuming.  Perhaps with the approaching weekend I can shut myself into the studio and see how far I can push it.  The size is daunting (28 x 22″) and I must confess that I am frequently “lost” in the details of it, but I  believe I’ll have a decent painting once it is completed.  Meanwhile, I’m trying to find a little more joy in the process, and hopefully that will occur when I have more time to invest in it.

Thanks for reading.

Young Art Student in the Studio

In earlier posts, I have highlighted the work of a ninth-grade student whose parents have hired my services to assist her in preparing a portfolio for application to a magnet school for the arts.

In my two-plus decades as an educator (over 90% of it teaching academic subjects), I have encountered less than five truly “exceptional” art students, geniuses.  This is one of them, and she is in the ninth grade.  I sincerely doubt that I will ever encounter another one so young with this level of skill and intelligence.

I recall Woody Allen’s remarks at the beginning of his film “Husbands and Wives.”  Playing the role of a college professor of writing, he said:  “You can’t teach writing.  You expose students to good work and hope it inspires them.  Some can write, others will never learn.”

Without trying to discuss the particulars of my pedagogy, I just want to point out that I really do not know how to teach skill to an art student.  Like the Woody Allen sentiment, I find myself drawing extensively from art history to show students models of the kind of art they are  pursuing, and hope it somehow rubs off.  As I watch a student work, I often make corrections, sometimes demonstrating ways to improve on a particular technique.

The picture posted here is of my student closing in on the finish of an oil portrait.  She chose a painting by Elisabeth Vigée Lebrun that we projected onto a giant screen in my darkened classroom.  Then, with a broad brush loaded with turpentine-thinned paint, she blocked in the composition, using neither pencil or charcoal, and very rapidly built up this oil portrait, mixing most of her colors from pure pigments, avoiding neutrals on her palette.  Burnt umber is her only neutral.  She uses no black.  She has no “flesh” or “light flesh” or “blush” colors–everything she mixes herself, with very little re-direction from me.

There is a large part of me that is deeply satisfied knowing that I am putting a part of myself into the next generation of artists.  At the same time, I remind myself that over 90% of this girl’s work is coming from herself–I feel that I am doing very, very little as I stand and observe her in action, every now and then offering a correction, a modification, an improvement (I hope!).  But for the most part, I am watching a young genius develop, and it gives me boundless pleasure.

Thanks for reading.

In the studio: a Sacred Space

Time constraints have made studio hours scarce lately.  But I have the opportunity to enter the studio (man cave!) this afternoon, it appears.  As you can see, I’m still hung up in the midst of this Fort Worth Flat Iron building located on the south side of downtown.

My imagination has drifted recently to the Cathedral of Chartres (we are studying it now in Advanced Placement Art History) and the whole notion of sacred space.  Having been brought up in a church  background, and studying theology on a graduate level, I have been intrigued throughout my life with sacred space, and have found such within the confines of  churches, libraries, outdoor settings, private studies, and even the driver’s seat of my Jeep.  Whenever I find myself in a state of perfect balance and calm, whenever my internal and external world seems in order, I feel that I have entered a sacred space.  Oftentimes, that sacred space is my garage, my man cave, my artist’s studio.  Whether the VCR plays my documentary of the Cathedral of Chartres with its sacred geometry, or my stereo plays the Gregorian Chant, or even if I’m listening to recordings of T. S. Eliot reading his poetry, my dusty garage quickly transforms into a sanctuary, a sacred space, as long as I am working on a watercolor (I could probably get just as high by reading a book, but I do that in my study, not in the garage!).

Creating watercolors in the garage works.  The light is spectacular when I raise the door.  I don’t have to worry about dripping water onto the concrete floor.  I have much space for walking around, moving things about, and stepping way back from the painting to view it from a distance and from different angles.  I have plenty of space to move the large watercolor papers from drafting table, to flat table, to easel, or even onto the floor.  And I’m generally alone and solitary.  When the cat comes out to visit, he isn’t intrusive; he generally requests only a  blanket for a bed, and is content to keep to himself.

If things go as planned, I’ll re-enter my sacred space after school today, and hopefully have a progress report to post this evening.

Thanks for reading.

teacher of the month

Well, I never saw this coming.  As anyone knows who speaks with me daily, or follows my blog, this has been the worst school year (schedule-wise) I’ve known in twenty-four years of teaching.  And everyone knows I’ve spent far too much time griping about it.

I entered my classroom one late afternoon about 5:00 and found it filled with balloons, congratulatory posters, and my blackboard covered with great images and sentiments.  I had been chosen Teacher of the Month.  I cannot describe how overwhelmed I was, and I guess it was good that I was alone.  I could not control my emotions as I walked about the room, looking at all the decorations and reading all the inscriptions.  I think what knocked me over was the realization that my students have gotten so little of me this year, because I’ve been spread so thin.  And then they surprise me with this.  Yes, I am overwhelmed, still.

The reason I never want to erase my blackboard is the inscription they wrote across the top:

“I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life.”

–Jack Kerouac

And then the students added:  “Thank you for giving all your students that great consciousness of life every day during class.  You are a truly inspirational teacher.”

From now on, I would just like to be worthy of that.  Thanks for reading.

Fort Worth Flat Iron Building

My painting buddy David Slight came over this evening, and we spent 3 hours in the “man cave” garage studio working on watercolors.  It was a nice decompression after a hectic high school load earlier today (four 90-minute classes in 4 different classrooms, no conference period).  Of course, there is the devil to pay.  I still need to spend about 90 minutes finishing my regular art history prep for tomorrow.  Fortunately I got the Advanced Placement Class finished before David came over.

I’m hoping to get this painting finished in the next week or two.  It is full-sized (22 x 28″), and the details are making me cross-eyed!  I still have plenty of Flat Iron to tend, and then have a rich network of shadows to lay down on the pavement below.  But, I’m finished for tonight.

Thanks for reading.

Chicago Impressions

The hiatus from the studio is drying me out!  School has  been better lately, and I have found myself pouring more time and effort into classroom preparations (I’m teaching four different subjects this semester–ugh!) which has been good for school but bad for the studio.  I’m trying my dead-level best to return to studio tonight (after prepping for two more subjects for tomorrow).  The student whom I’ve been giving private lessons in the evening is ill right now, so I will not be teaching this evening.  Perhaps I’ll pick up the brush.

I’ve posted an original watercolor that I still have in my possession: Chicago Impressions.  I photographed this composition while in Chicago a few years ago, visiting the Edward Hopper and Winslow Homer watercolor exhibits at the Art Institute.  Though I’ve priced it at $250, and have it in a professionally prepared mat, it hasn’t managed to find a home.  So, I continue to look at it.

Tonight, I hope to return to the Fort Worth Flat Iron building I started last week, and have already posted repeatedly.  But my next plan is to create a large railroad composition, larger than any watercolor I’ve done to date.  I have been restricted to the full-page layout of 22 x 28″ but now plan to cut a longer piece off a roll, and see where that takes me.  I have painted quite a few train compositions, and often felt I was too hemmed in by the restricted size.  The more I think on this, the more enthused I am about going after it.

Thanks for reading.  If you would like to check out my online store at cafe press (still a work in progress), you can log on to http://davidtripponline.com.

One-Hour Oil Sketch by Ninth-Grade Student

In another post on this same day, I introduced my private art student, Maddie, who has studied with me since last October.  Here, I have posted a one-hour oil sketch that she did as a preliminary to the finished portrait that I posted earlier.  They are two separate paintings.  I cannot express my pride in this young ladie’s work, seldom do I encounter students so young and so serious to learn their craft.  Maddie never took a pencil or charcoal to this canvas; the portrait sketch was begun with turpentine-thinned oil for a sepia wash.  She blocked it in quickly and accurately, then layered her paints following the preliminary sketch.

Thanks for reading.

Oil portrait by ninth-grade art student

Though I have used this blog to promote my own art work, I cannot help but post a couple of images of work from one of my private art students.  Maddie is a ninth-grade student, seeking admission to a fine arts school.  A portfolio is required, so her parents have hired my services to assist her in building a portfolio of 25 pieces to submit when she applies.

All I can say is, I have met very few students as gifted as Maddie.  Her eye is so good, and her intellect so keen that she seems able to do anything she attempts in the field of art.  I have never touched a brush or pencil to her compositions, but have only stood nearby coaching and re-directing as necessary.  She only has to be told once, and she gets it.

This is a life-size oil portrait that Maddie spent 2 hours creating, while viewing a large projection of an oil painting from centuries past.  She never touched a pencil to the canvas, but began with turpentine-thinned oil on a brush, blocking in the portrait with a sepia wash, and then building from there.

I think the painting is magnificent.  I don’t know when I have felt more proud of a student with this kind of willingness to come into the studio after hours, following her own daily school and extra-curricular schedule.

Thanks for reading.

Art in the Park, Kennedale, Texas

Sorry I’ve been away from the blog so long.  I have experienced a myriad of computer-technology problems and now am working on different equipment.  I cannot understand why this posted image looks so grainy.  Granted I took the photo outdoors when evening was darkening, but I have done that before with no issues.

I just finished an image to advertise the 3rd annual Art in the Park at Kennedale, Texas.  The two day event will be March 31-April 1.

Thanks for reading.

Fort Worth, Texas Flat Iron Building

While waiting to give a private art lesson Friday afternoon, I had a few more leisure hours for drawing and watercoloring on this Fort Worth Flat Iron building begun a couple of days ago.  It is on a full sheet of paper (22 x 30″) and rather hard to get to, requiring plenty of leaning over a desk.  Fortunately the weekend has arrived, and I have a tilting drafting table here in my studio to make access more pleasant.  As you can see, I’ve devoted most of my recent work on the shadow end of this building.  I still need to darken it further, but will probably move on to the sunlit flat end and get to work on all those blasted windows (yawn).  Hopefully by Monday I will have much more of this behind me.  I do have another major project to work on as well, however.  If that second project goes well, I’ll toss some of those pictures on the blog as well.

Thanks for reading.  Have a splendid weekend.