Art Week #2

. . . 

I'm late.
But that's not too important.
Granted, it is only two hours past midnight, so I very much am still in the fingerlaces of Sunday's night.
For all intents and purposes--and intended purposes--I am quite on time.
Sublime.

As far as my art is concerned, this week was slow getting started due to a lot of work. I've never read so much Franco-Algerian history in my life. (Never read any before, actually. Is this a problem with our World History education in America? Who knows, but the answer is clearly yes.) Lately I've had in mind a collection of word scrawling and pen illustrations that sit in a big black book back in Boston. (Nice.) Here is one of them. It is called, "The Alice Tree".

"The Alice Tree"

Here it is sliced up because I used it as the cover of a short story I submitted to a contest at school and mysteriously never heard back from them-- not with with the winner, a thank you, a disappointing remark on the scattered nature (beauty) of my submission, nothing. Thanks Harvard, for being sketchy. Anyway, I figured out how to pick up where I left off with the plot. It involves poor Alice (she is always the unfortunate, she has to be) happening upon three enchanted sisters, named Haze (L'Obscurité), Mist (La Brume), and Gloom (La Mélancolie). 

In class I managed to sketch out a rather tame picture. Here are the Fog Sisters (Les Sœurs du Voile):

Rendition 1

Like I said, pretty tame. I do like the tarot-card centralization of this sketch, though. Something about this length-to-width proportion just makes me giddy. 

So, the week goes on, I'm learning how France dominated Algeria in the 18th and 19th centuries with crazy effectiveness, and, in Google Image searching for inspiration regarding what exactly constitutes "melancholy," I find this guy: Ryohei Hase, digital illustrator based in Tokyo, Japan. Go to his website. I'm very impressed with his very skilled and patient use of the "digital brush" as one of my closer buddies called it. Using a little intuition, you will find his series of eight pieces done with this theme. For fun, guess which piece was my favorite. Hint: there are two. 

Ryohei keeps notes, which I looked through a little bit. In them, I found a technique that I've seen used also by Esao Andrews. I said to myself, "Well, there you have it. If two professional illustrator-artists use it, then you should use it, for at least try it for the benefits." And I did. Or at least I have started:

By the end of this new week, all 18 will be filled. I will be thrilled.

ciaociao,

rossi

Art Week #1

"No Escape"
Rossi Lamont Walter

. . . 

For Esao Andrews, the Monday night art update was his resolution for the new year. He seems to be doing a smashing job. For me, Sunday night art updates are intended to be my promise to myself to do art every week. No more putting it off. No more complaining about putting it off. I spent some hours pouring over his webpage and his blog. Thanks for the inspiration, Esao.

So, I'm in Menton. During the first of what will be eight weeks here, the group was taken on a tour of three villages in the Alps: Gorbio, Roquebrune, and St. Agnès. I remember that in one of them there was a rather modern museum, you know, wood-floor furnished and all. The best part, though, was underneath the museum.  The space was essentially a small cave. Along the walls were framed portraits of detailed faces, often grave and all very French, drawn with pencil. Deeper into the cave were full-length drawings of young ladies at the age of puberty. They were all nude, with rather unspirited facial expressions. Anyway, that was one of the villages. We had lunch in St. Agnès. I had the wild boar and it wasn't bad at all.

After a while, I started wondering who this Saint Agnès (you know, pronounced in the very French way with the 'g' and the 'n' making the nasal sound, not like the American 'Saint agg-nez') woman was, what she was doing these days. I mean obviously she's dead; take any old village named after a saint you just assume that saint is dead, martyred or something maybe. I figured maybe her body was preserved somewhere, or her head. So, I sketched up a kind of classic grim reaper meets homeless crazy woman.

detail: the candle

explanation: friends and I played a little joke on the rest of the group. sitting in a dark common room with our heads covered with long blankets, we waited for them. friend #1 at the piano by the door (note: it was horribly out of tune) and me positioned behind a fake tree with a candle clutched in my palm. was very funny. 

I liked how it was going, but then I couldn't see what this had to do with the village named after this old Saint. I figured she wasn't all that bad, in fact probably pretty pious and pretty benevolent and that, after death, she would become specter guardian, watching over the village with her noble candle. You'll notice the added paper mountain over the original sketch if you hadn't already. Pretty keen job, actually, if I may say so myself. As far as the whole thing, I am pleased. I made a sketch to keep the idea clear. That's the thing about all of these. Some day, I hope to come back and turn these into large or decently sized paintings. I've always regretted not being able to paint. Thanks again to Esao for the inspiration to be diligent with my art. 

. . . 

The second sketch of this week was inspired by some stuff I saw in a window just down the street from the villa. 

That woman looks simply divine! She seems to have not a care in the world and I like that attitude. The grapes, glass chalices, and spectacularly spherical orb of a teapot brought Dionysus the Greek god of wine and festivity. I thought I would spin this into a vivid scene, with three plump young women being the center of it all.

detail: the angry nun and the young man

explanation: " Good Old Fashion Drinkin' "

I can't wait for this one to turn into a painting. It will be a real challenge, but all the better for the braver.

next week is "Alice",

rossi