A painting and a drawing arising from today’s headlines and subject of my current proofreading job: the networked self.
I’ve been playing with my phone’s drawing app again. Also using up a free trial on Netflix, where I found a film about Giacometti, Final Portrait. It felt like a visit to his studio.
I assume some of the dialogue was authentic:
‘a portrait is never finished…’
‘to paint you how I see you is impossible…’
Not cheery, but inspiring.
Hence, this drawing.
(I have also ventured on to Instagram. I knew getting a smartphone would be dangerous.)
So (don’t you hate people who start with ‘so’?) there’s drawing and there’s sculpture and there’s painting.
Colour is a very uncharted ocean (for me) and a lot of the time I’m drawing with paint rather than painting (by which I mean dragging the brush across the surface to make a line, neglecting colour and light, as if it were charcoal, instead of applying the paint as an area of with hue, tone, saturation and all that) – but there are occasions when the paint goes on like clay and the brush is a modelling tool and then it feels like sculpting with paint, placing it carefully, not smeared or muddy, which seems like progress.
Painting with paint is another matter however.
Over the last several weeks I’ve been working on a portrait commission. It was painted from life, squeezing sittings into spaces in the subject’s busy life. It’s painted in oils on canvas, though the underlying bluish wash is acrylic. Here are some photos of the work in progress: