Friday, 6 March 2020

Wax crayons and oil pastels

Most of us will have used wax crayons when we were at school or at home as a child. As we get older we tend to dismiss them as children's things, but they have a powerful grip on our collective imaginations because of that association with childhood, therefore I would like to devote this post to those Crayola crayons that I remember using alongside my children as they were growing up. 

Crayola wax crayons are made primarily from paraffin wax and pigments. The process is the same for all Crayola crayon colours, the paraffin wax is melted and mixed together with pre-measured amounts of colour pigment. Paraffin wax has a very recognisable sheen that develops as you layer up your colours. Perhaps this is why children like these crayons so much, the surface can sometimes feel almost edible if you burnish or polish the layers. 


Al Taylor Bondage Duck Study, 1998.

Al Taylor is someone to research if you want to think about how drawing materials are integral to visual invention. He drew with dissolved toner, wax crayons, ink and whatever else he could find to use as drawing materials. A sculptor, he saw his drawing materials as an extension of his sculptural materials, the implications of form being as much a suggestion of material possibility as his own ability to move materials around to find new relationships. The drawing above uses pencil, ink, acrylic mica mortar, graphite, colored pencil, China marker grease pencil and wax crayon on paper. 

In contrast Calvin Marcus is much more controlled in his use of materials. He has deliberately linked two different types of oil and wax crayons in his development of these nine foot high paint stick drawn panels.


Calvin Marcus

Calvin Marcus had a problem we all have at one time or another. His small drawings done using wax crayons were fresh and exciting, but when scaled up they lost a lot of the original intensity. Therefore he decided to up-scale his drawing tools and used custom made oil sticks as a scaled up substitute for his wax crayons. “I have always had this problem with trying to make quick off-the-cuff drawings or energetic sketches into more substantial works,” Marcus said. “Things get fussy and stiff.” Created in partnership with paint maker Robert Doak, Marcus also developed several Crayola inspired colours for the paint sticks.
Marcus uses the oil sticks on canvas to copy the marks made by his Crayola crayons on paper. The surface of his canvas images having that familiar waxiness that we associate with children's colouring books. His images of military men, are made more awkward by their emergence from those crayon like waxy surfaces; over sized and blown up, they echo the shallow bombast of official military images. 

There was a story told by Elaine De Kooning that Franz Kline had a similar problem. She told of a time when at some point in 1948, Kline had been visited by her husband Willem, who suggested that Kline project a sketch onto the wall of his studio using an opaque projector. (These were used at the time to take flat copy, like printed matter, and project it onto a screen, basically, a camera in reverse, with the light on the inside) 


How to make your own opaque projector

As you can see from the 'how to' drawing above, opaque projectors tended not to have a very large copy screen, as they were made mainly to project photographs or text from books, therefore when Kline puts one on a drawing it only covers a small section of the original or he has to use a very small sketch. 
Kline described the projection as such:
"A four by five inch black drawing of a rocking chair...loomed in gigantic black strokes which eradicated any image, the strokes expanding as entities in themselves, unrelated to any entity but that of their own existence."
He realised the implications of this and upscaled his brushes from artist's size to the biggest commercial decorator's he could find and began to use paint straight out of the tin. You can see how quickly he changed his way of working by comparing his work from 1948 to paintings done afterwards. 

Franz Kline 1948

Franz Klien early 1950s

I digress from reflecting on wax crayons, but this problem of sometimes wanting to keep the freshness and dynamism of a small image or section of an image, when moving on to work on a much larger scale, is a continuing one. The issue came up yet again this week when talking to students about their work.  

You can make your own wax crayons and there are a wide range of recipes available on the internet. Perhaps what might be more interesting would be to think more conceptually about this and perhaps research around the issue. The final crayons might include ingredients that have particular resonances, such as a ground down brick to make a colour that comes from a particular historical site. You can also make them at a self chosen larger size, as well as making unusual material combinations or variations. You might think that this occasional reflection on the making of art materials doesn't have much to do with the idea of careers in art but 
Robert Doak for instance has managed to build a career making paints and still does even though he is now in his 80s. Both Cecily Brown and John Currin buy their paints from Doak and you will find that there is a very close relationship between artists and the makers of the best artist's materials. 

There are some subtle variations in the nomenclature of these artist's materials. For instance, a 
crayon made of pigment with a dry binder is a pastel; but when made of oiled chalk, it is called an oil pastel. It is the binder therefore that creates the big difference, which is exactly the same when we talk about paints; oil paint, acrylic paint etc. Wax crayons use wax and oil pastels use non-drying oil and wax as binders. Besides the composition of the colours, there is a huge difference in how a wax crayon and an oil pastel works, and it is only by experimenting with these materials that you will find out what their possibilities are. Don't forget there is a sliding scale between one thing and another. Coloured drawing slides into painting. We just get caught up in words and tend to think painting is one thing and drawing another, but when you look at these things as actions or events, you can see them as all intermingled aspects of one coloured material sticking to another in conjunction with the movements of an animal.
An old newspaper clipping looks at new uses for wax crayons

In the article above, if you enlarge it you can read about how wax crayons can become paints. Incidentally the article also advertises 'sculp-metal', a material Jasper Johns used to develop shallow relief versions of his flag paintings and drawings. A new material opens up a new possibility, as Johns put it, "
Do something, do something to that, and then do something to that" or conversely, be part of a commingling with one group of things, then help bring in some more things and carry on by linking in some more stuff and following the implications. 

In the USA you can find grease pencils, these are made of coloured and hardened grease, in England we call them chinagraph pencils.   


Henry Moore

Because he liked to use wax resist techniques Henry Moore often used to use chinagraph pencils, in this case a black one for the line work and a white one for the highlights. 


Chinagraph markers

You can use chinagraph markers to draw on a wide variety of surfaces, glazed ceramics, (hence the name),
 metals, as well as the glossy papers such as those used for printing. However it is its specific uses in various situations I'm particularly interested in. It was used in photographic editing to mark up contact sheets. This type of marking became associated with the act of selection itself.


Selected image from a photographer's contact sheet

Another use within photography was in the marking up of x-rays so that doctors could point to what was identified by the x-ray as going wrong. 


A marked up x-ray

In the case of the photographer's contact sheet things are marked up because they are positive, interesting compositions or clear images that communicate something and in the case of the x-rays things are marked because something has gone wrong, in this case a broken bone. 

During the second world war, grease pencils or chinagraph crayons were used in military aircraft control centres. As information came in from radar operators, details of aircraft locations and other information would be drawn in reverse on a clear panel of glass, which was readable to officers on the other side of the panel. This information would be continuously updated as a situation changed and because of the dynamics of this situation, it was often used as a prop or central location in war films. 

The work of the chinagraph crayon has now been replaced by the Sharpie and other permanent marker pens, a drawing tool that tends to sit alongside the felt tip and ballpoint pens of this world when you are thinking about issues such as quality and associated meaning when choosing a drawing material. 


Wax crayons because they are soft with no hard pointy bits such as nibs or thin graphite pencil tips, became the implement of choice for children, but grease pencils, which are also soft, became the implement of choice for the military, because you could write on glass with them. Their 'ur' histories are fascinating. The Binney and Smith chemical company used to make lampblack by burning whale bones and they also made the black colourant for automobile tyres. Because of their experience in working with colour and coloured manufacturing processes they eventually developed a line of wax crayons they called 'Crayola', a name Alice Binney came up with as a fusion of the French word for chalk, craie, with the first part of oleaginous, the oily paraffin wax used to make the crayons.
A combination of wax or grease with pigment is a very old one. Cave paintings were made with charcoal from a fire mixed with greasy fat from cooked meat, and the Egyptians made encaustic images using hot beeswax mixed with pigments and painted on to stone.  

Paint sticks or oil sticks, oil bars or pigment sticks are all the same type of thing. They are made so that they can emulate the painterly qualities that you can get with oil paint and are relatively new materials designed to allow artists to be more expressive with their surface handling techniques. They are made from pure pigment, a drying oil (such as linseed or safflower oil) and enough wax to allow the mixture to be moulded into a cylindrical bar. They will dry and cure like oil paint and are fully compatible with traditional oil painting techniques. Almost any fine art support is suitable including canvas, paper and wooden or aluminium panel. Once marks have been made with an oil stick, they can be manipulated with a palette knife or a brush or extended with an oil medium. Some artists dip their oil sticks directly into linseed oil before using to get much softer marks. George Condo likes to draw with oil sticks and then uses a stiff brush to soften and blend the marks. 
George Condo using oil sticks

George Condo: finished oil stick drawing

Oil pastels occupy a place between wax crayons and oil sticks. Like oil sticks they are made with pigment, wax and oil, but their oil content is considerably lower and a non-drying oil is used. The big issue is that there is no 'dryer' mixed in with the oils, which means you can keep them exposed to the air for ages and they will still work, but this also means that the surface of a drawing made by them is also not fixed and can always be smudged. Most artists store their oil pastel work under sheets of glassine paper, a smooth, grease-resistant paper. 
Roger Hilton: oil pastel on envelope
Terry Frost: Oil pastel on graph paper

When I began my teaching career one of my fellow lecturers was a painter called Patrick Oliver, he had been closely associated with the St Ives art scene in the 1950 and 60s and was a strong advocate of oil pastels as a medium to use when thinking through painting ideas. He knew both Roger Hilton and Terry Frost and both artists made much use of a product that was very much of its time. The very first oil pastels were made in 1925 by Sakura and named Cray-Pas because they were a cross between crayons and soft pastels. They were often used for sketching as they were so convenient to carry and you can build them up in layers and scratch back through them, a technique that became a sort of trademark approach. 
A scratched through oil pastel surface

My craft option for my DipAD was printmaking and at the time lithographic printing using both limestone and zinc plate technologies were important techniques to learn.  This is where I first came across the use of lithographic crayons to draw with. I hadn't realised how they had effected the look of many images I had thought of before as simply crayon or pastel drawings.  Lithographic crayons have a high oil content and are available in pencil and stick (like Conte crayon) forms. The crayons come in varying degrees of hardness. Lithographic crayons are made of beef tallow, Marcel soap, soot (carbon black), beeswax, and shellac. When these tallow and soap ingredients are applied to the zinc plate or stone, they stick to the surface and their oily consistency repels water, so that when you roll ink over a water soaked plate, it will only stick to the drawn areas.  

Kathe Kollwitz: Lithographic print

Paula Rego: Lithographic print

Both Kathe Kollwitz and Paula Rego have used lithographic crayons very effectively and you can see the relationship between its use as a printing medium and how its use influenced their own approaches to drawing. However lithographic crayons have a quality that sits somewhere between oil pastels and chalks, and soft pastels and chalks have a different set of associations and material qualities and like coloured pencils can be grouped together as 'dry' materials and these will no doubt form the basis of a future post, but in the meantime you could check out other posts that focus on drawing materials. 

See also:

Sunday, 1 March 2020

Drawing feet

Four studies of feet, Augustinus Terwesten I, 1672-1711

This is one of my occasional posts about various parts of the body and how they have occupied the drawing mind in various ways. This study of four feet by Terwesten, has always fascinated me because its not really a study of feet, it is a study of how sculptors' have rendered feet, which is a totally different thing. In particular they take no weight, because they don't need to, they are still fused into their various stones, out of which they have been shaped, but never to escape. In comparison Van Gogh's feet are firmly planted on the ground, you feel the reality of the earth beneath these feet. 

Van Gogh

Euan Uglow

Euan Uglow attempts to pin the feet of his model down to a floor too, but even with all his measuring points and 'tacking' down of the image, he never manages to achieve the weight that Van Gogh does. When drawing the body, I nearly always begin with the feet, if not it can feel as if there is nothing of substance for me to hold on to. Just like a building, a human body needs structural support and this begins with the feet. 

Kiki Smith

Kiki Smith's feet are still 'real' but are about the reality of their own being, not about the reality of the floor they are meant to stand on. They exist in an alternative universe, one that Louise Bourgeois would recognise.

Louise Bourgeois

Michelangelo

Michelangelo's foot pushes off against the ground, the big toe operates as a fulcrum around which weighty action can take place; his feet enact their part in a dynamic universe, where humans have as much traction as Gods.


Picasso: Guernica detail

In Guernica, Picasso uses feet to articulate an expression of anguish.They are still powerful, but scarred and distorted, as they both take the weight of the narrative and of the humans that they belong to. 

Dali

In comparison this foot by Dali is almost dreamlike. Its soft smudged contours attempt to give weight, but it's not realised; it is as if he has achieved a way of describing mass without weight, the ankle is thick, but unconvincing. The shading on the other side of the foot doesn't help convince us that the foot has to support a leg and a body, because the white space in the foreground sits next to the foot, not underneath it, thus creating a void. Dali's foot is a filled in line drawing, rather than a discovered solid. For a solid hallucination, we need to look at Durer's feet.

Durer

Durer's study of the feet of a praying man, is a wonderful image of vulnerability and at the same time the reality of presence. You really feel he looked at these feet, the twist through the ball of the foot down to the toes of the left hand foot in particular feels so 'right' you can feel it in your own body. 

Guston: Rome

Philip Guston has made a numb foot, a left over classical image, that he has suffused with that feeling we have when older, that our feet belong to someone else, they used to be useful and clearly beautiful, but now they look worn out. 

Feet can of course be about other things besides how they look. From pressure points in reflexology to symbolic religious representations; they have operated as entry points to both the body, mind and spirit. The footprints of Buddha remind us to stay on the true path; the spiritual master plants his lotus feet in the heart of the disciple. 



The feet of Buddha 

It is perhaps at this point that I need to explain how some of my own images are developing. I have been making votives, objects made as a result of conversations with people about their health. In order to 'externalise' these conversations I needed a readily available 'set' of images around which to establish a dialogue, so I decided to design set of cards, that could allow me to operate rather like a tarot reader. 

Foot votive: design for slumped glass votive dish

I had already made a hand votive using slumped glass and I had been excited by the effect of light shining through it. This had reminded me of first going to Chartres Cathedral and the way that light shining through stained glass can be very spiritual. 

Light shining through hand votive in the form of a shallow dish. 

The spiritual and emotional power of light and colour was something I had recently been more tuned into because of my continuing work as a first year fine art degree tutor. I had been asked to set a series of starting points for students who had chosen to work in what is now called studio 'P'. Traditionally an area devoted to painting, I wanted to open the area out to experiences that went far beyond one particular medium, in particular I wanted to celebrate light and colour as concepts in their own right. Colour in print operates very differently to the way colour is mixed in painting; thinking in cyan, magenta and yellow was for myself much closer to thinking in coloured light, even though it was subtractive as opposed to additive colour.  These cards allow me to engage in a dialogue that begins at a certain level of emotional intensity echoed by the colour range. 



Card votives

The point about votives is to take the human and let it be infused into non human things.  By putting your pain or worry into something else, you do what all art has always done, turn a lump of material, (clay, paint, marble, wood, etc.) into a carrier of emotions and ideas that can carry messages between people. In this case print on card. Once embedded in something else rather than existing as a thought in someone's head, the object can then operate as an intermediary between either people and people or people and other things including gods, inanimate objects and animals. A thought externalised become concrete and as it does so it carries with it the worries, aspirations, feelings and other emotions that surrounded the thought when it initially sat in someone's mind. 

When I began to think about these images of feet I was also reminded of the very first engagement I had with images of feet; those found in shoe shops. 

 
My mother was always worried about the size of her feet, she wore size sixes, a size that in those days (the 1950s) was deemed to be very large for women. This 'worry' related to something else I was aware of as an idea, one based in my childhood reading of weird and strange 'world facts' books, it was the thought that Chinese women had their feet bound up when young, enabling their feet to fit into 'impossible' tiny shoes, ensuring that they could only walk with small shuffling steps, a movement that was seen as appropriate to a cultured femininity. Even if untrue, the idea stuck and I have found it still lodged in my memory over 60 years later.
 

Feet were thus in my head from a very early age, culturally significant. This is perhaps why types of shoes are so important. A report by researchers at the University of Kansas has revealed that people can predict with 90% accuracy, personality traits of strangers based solely on their shoes. 

Of course both animals and objects have feet as well as humans. 

Leonardo: Dog's feet

Bruce Moore, Studies of Feet (Chickens), 1947, pen and ink on paper



Furniture with feet

Our man-made world makes constant reference to our own bodies; chairs have arms, backs, legs and of course feet. The objects we make have mostly animal type feet, but sometimes very human ones, as in the case of the Egyptian bowl below. To stand up is to rely on feet and in our world, standing up is often seen as a unique human attribute. 


Standing up was supposed to give humans an evolutionary advantage, but as this case is something argued by humans the writers might have a degree of bias. Suffice it to say that feet have a long history of significance in the arts. 

Roman foot votive

A more recent foot votive made by myself.

 See also:






Tuesday, 25 February 2020

Lina Bo Bardi’s architectural presentations of drawings

Every now and again I try to put up a post about presentation techniques. Third year students will have to put proposals in for spaces and outline how they are thinking about final show and module assessment hangs in the next two weeks, so its a good time to remind everyone how important presentation is. There are several links at the bottom of this post that could therefore be useful as they bring together earlier reflections on various other aspects of presentation.

Johanna Unzueta 

Johanna Unzueta has a show of work on at Modern Art Oxford at the moment, her freestanding geometric drawings inspired by natural patterns, are being displayed in a format that echoes the one that Lina Bo Bardi used for her easels display format back in the 1960s.   Lina Bo Bardi's easels consisted of a pane of glass supported by a concrete cube and were an attempt to integrate the display of artworks into the structure of modernist architecture.

Lina Bo Bardi's 'Easels'

The iconic glass panels that Bo Bardi designed and exhibited at the opening of the Sao Paulo museum of Art in 1968, were designed to ‘resurface’ art objects dating from the fourth century B.C. until the 1960s. “Floating” them in glass panels anchored by a concrete block, art objects were positioned in no chronological order, and they revealed their backs. “My intention has been to destroy the aura surrounding museums,” said Bo Bardi at the museum opening. She wanted to disrupt the contemplation of works hanging on white walls, and diffuse the hierarchy between artists and artistic periods, being amongst the first to undo the sacralisation or spiritualisation of the museum experience. By “making walls transparent,” and through the showing of the back of the images, notes, records, and processes were revealed that had previously only been seen by museum staff. 


Lina Bo Bardi exhibition displays

Unzueta says of her work that it is “a body you can walk around, not a flat thing”, a concept that reinforces my own thoughts about both drawing and painting being in reality very thin sculpture. 

Johanna Unzueta 

Lina Bo Bardi's ideas have become fashionable, but not necessarily understood. She wanted to give audiences a view of what went on behind the images presented in museums. 
Johanna Unzueta's use of Lina Bo Bardi's idea is questionable. Why in photographic views of her exhibitions, do we never see the backs of images? Is there nothing to reveal? Has Bo Bardi's concept now become a style of presentation for Unzueta, rather than a way of revealing something about the way the work is displayed?

An exhibition of Lina Bo Bardi's drawings

A recent exhibition of Lina Bo Bardi's own work was presented with her drawings fixed to scaffolding posts. It was obviously curated in this way as a 'nod' to her ideas. However I'm not convinced that the exhibition worked because her intention to destroy the snobbery surrounding museums and wanting to disrupt the contemplation of works hanging on white walls, seems to have been replaced by yet another presentation idea centred on preserving art's 'aura'. 
('Aura' as used by Walter Benjamin in his influential 1936 essay The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction)

It is important to remember that the aesthetic of the white wall for presenting work was introduced in the early twentieth century in response to modernism. Art groups like De Stijl set off a trend of exhibiting their works against white walls, in contrast if you visit Leeds Art Gallery they have a Victorian room, all the paintings are hung against red or green painted walls. The white walls were also thought of as a type of frame, think of a photograph with a white border. Modernist architectural design was heavily influenced by the need to eliminate decoration, which itself was seen as capable of hiding germs. All those decorative flourishes made things much harder to wipe clean, so decoration became associated with ill health and hidden causes of disease. As an introduction to these types of ideas you could read 'Ornament and Crime', by Adolf Loos. He tells us:

'Because we have stagnated for a long time and we are stagnating still. Over the last decade the whole world of the applied arts has taken great strides under England’s leadership. The distance between us and everyone else is becoming ever greater, and it is high time that we took care not to miss our connection. Even Germany has been catching up at a gallop and will soon be joining the victory procession. Such new life abroad! The painters, the sculptors, the architects are leaving their comfortable studios, hanging ‘high art’ on the peg and taking their place by the anvil, the loom, the potter’s wheel, the kiln and the carpenter’s bench! Away with all drawing, away with all paper-based art! What we need to do now is to wrest new forms and lines from life, habits, comfort and utility! Get to it, journeymen, art is something that must be overcome!'
From the introduction to 'Ornament and Crime'

'High art' is seen by Loos as a crime and we are told that it is in design and craft that true value lies. He points to the problem of art's use value and questions what art is for.

In 1976 Brian O’Doherty wrote a series of essays for Artforum magazine which were collected together in his book 'Inside the white cube'. In these essays O’Doherty highlighted the different types of meanings that the white walls of a gallery implied. In particular he pointed to the new church like aspect that galleries were now imposing on the 'read' of contemporary art. As an architect Lina Bo Bardi would have been very aware of these issues, and her work to expose the myths of the white cube, was an early example of the need to fight back against what had become an unquestioned norm. Art had by the 1970s been clearly separated out from design and craft but an all white aesthetic space for art's appreciation was still accepted as common practice.

The point about this and other posts about presentation is that it is never neutral, when we are told the clean flat white wall is simply to allow us to see the work without distractions, we are actually being subtly inducted into a particular modernist idea.

Whether you are making static images using traditional materials, or working with contemporary media, choices made at the point of exhibition or presentation will determine how your audience receives your work.

See also:


Drawings as exhibition proposals
Trapping and framing
Framing a large drawing
The frame and the banner
Fixings and fittings
Hanging large drawings
More on framing
From drawing to installation
Edges