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There are many different manners of working with soft/dry pastels. I'm using a method that involves a lot of layering and juxtaposing of colours, which puts some demands on the papers I use.

Papers need to:
have a distinct but fine grain that "grabs hold of" the pastel pigments
continue to hold onto the pigment dust
allow for many layers
be light or white
be archival or acid free
be easy enough to cut to desired size

Here I give you my personal experience with different types of paper. I want to stress that it is indeed personal, and that other artists may have different views. I'm judging the papers based on how I work. All papers mentioned below are made for the serious amateur and the professional pastellist. There exist many more pastel papers, especially from the USA, but I have not tried these.

Plain papers

Canson Mi-Teintes, diverse Ingres, Fabriano's Tiziano, and similar, EuropeanTexture: Usually they are smoothish or rough with clear texture, often more textured on one side, and less on the other. I prefer the less textured, as I want the painting to "speak", not the paper.
Colour: Comes in many colours that may fade with time. Not an issue when using white and light papers.
Grabability: Surprisingly good, for a maximum of 5 layers of harder pastels like Rembrandt and ArtSpectrum. Will take two additional layers of supersoft pastels like Schmincke. Dust stays put, basically, even without fixative.
Cutability: Very easy to cut.
Longevity: Buffered or acid free, they last for a long time. (Note: Canson MT black is not acid free, and will fade.)

Used by me for: Sketches, tests, works with softer pastels like Unisons, and work that doesn't need to be layered much.
Not suitable for water soluble primers or underpainting techniques.

Primed papers or card

There are two basic kinds of primed papers I use: Primed with "gritty stuff" mixed into the primer, and primed and gritty stuff strewn over the primer. "Gritty stuff" is usually some sand, ground pumice, ground marble, or similar minerals, with two exceptions. 

ArtSpectrum's Colourfix primer, and Colourfix paper, Australia
Texture: Readymade papers have a fine ?pitted' texture, from the screen-print method of applying the primer to watercolour paper. Can be soaked in tub and pastel washed off, many times. Reusable.
Colour: Comes in many colours, including white, natural, and Australian grey
Grabability: Good. After several layers, a certain plowing effect appears when a pastel stick dislocates what is already on the paper, which works as a type of automatic blending. Unfixed paintings do drop dust, but very little.
Cutablilty: Easy, a bit hard on knife-blades.
Longevity: Many years. Acid free.

Used by me for: Painting, plein air, sketching, testing, experimenting ? it is the all-round paper. Takes watercolour underpaintings.

The Colourfix primer: Can be applied to almost any dry and non-greasy surface according to the manufacturer. Prime any paper or canvas that will take a water-soluble primer, and you can paint with pastels on it. As the primer comes in many colours, they can also be used as an underpainting. Transparent primer can be applied over a watercolour painting.

 

Papers with grit on top

LaCarte, from Sennelier, France
Texture: Fine grit made of vegetable matter and cork. Mixed large and small particles make for uneven deposits of pastel pigment, which I find attractive. Parts of the grit tends to get loosened by the pastel sticks, but is tolerable (by me). Fingerblending works great, you keep your fingerprints intact as the grit is soft.
Colour: Many, including creamy whites
Grabability: Very good. After several layers the plowing effect may appear.
Cutablilty: Easy enough, for card.
Longevity: Many years. However, the glue holding the grit will dissolve with moisture, so a good sneeze can ruin the paper even before you start to paint, and during, and after. Finished framed paintings behind glass should have no problems.

Used by me: Seldom, even though it is good enough, but not a favourite.

 
Velour, many makers
Texture: Soft fibers glued to paper. So irregular it looks very even. Fibers have a ?spring' to them, so a fair amount of the finest pigment dust gets thrown up in the air, a handbreadth or two, and hovers there for a long time. No blending, the fibers keep the dust in place. Layering blends a bit.
Colour: Comes in light and white colours too.
Grabability: Fine for harder pastels. Soft pastels fall off, continuously, and in an avalanche if you smack the paper on the back.
Cutablilty: Very easy to cut.
Longevity: Many years.

Used by me for: Experiments, very rarely, as it throws dust into the air. Will not get any more of it, as I use pastel sticks with cadmium in them and avoid breathing in dust. The fact that it doesn't hold on to pigment very well disqualifies it.

 
Sansfix, by Schmincke, Germany
Texture: Irregular grit, but with a pebbly texture. The particles are relatively large and feel smooth, so finger blending is kind to fingertips. Pastel dust can be washed off in shower. Reusable.
Colour: Several, including light and white.
Grabability: Surprisingly mediocre with harder pastels. Plowing starts early. Back-smacks dislocate pigment in larger amounts than I care for, also after using 3 light coats of fixative.
Cutablilty: Relatively easy, but hard on blades.
Longevity: Many years.

Used by me for: Experiments. Not a favourite. And only until I run out of my stock. Will take wet underpaintings.

 

Wallis professional, USA
Texture: Even (some batches uneven) sharp grit. Feels like sandpaper ? is a sandpaper, of artist quality. Takes up to 25 layers. Eats pastels. First layer not blendable as it will not move. Successive layers blendable, preferably with protected fingertips, or with some implement, as packing peanuts, pieces of pipe insulation. Reported to not take rubbing alcohol for underpainting, as it becomes ?gummy'. Watermedia is to be used only in upright position, and never soak it. (Museum quality is said to be washable.) Reusable many times if dust is brushed off. (Can be vacuumed off, too, with some care.)
Colour: white and a medium dark neutral brown-gray.
Grabability: Excellent! Dust stays put. Very little plowing, after many layers.
Cutablilty: Takes some effort, as the Professional is on card (Wallis Museum is on rag). Very hard on blades, one cut ruins the edge of blade.
Longevity: Manufacturer promises 500 years. Will probably last longer.

Used by me for: Anything! A favourite!

 

Fisher 400, England
Texture: Sharp fine even grit, on card. Artist's quality sandpaper. Eats pastels, so it is a good idea to start with the harder and cheaper ones. First layer not blendable, stays put. Successive layers blendable, preferably with protected fingertips, or with some implement. Fingerblendable when grit is cushioned by pigment layers. Takes waterbased media as underpainting, and resumes shape after drying without stretching. Rubbing alcohol works well, also to sink dust into grain to allow for even more layers (hardly necessary).
Colour: Medium beige, can be tinted.
Grabability: Excellent! Almost no plowing. Very little fall off when smacked on back.
Cutablilty: Takes some effort, as it is on card. Very hard on blades, one cut ruins blade.
Longevity: Manufacturer gives no time, but as it is acid free, it should last very long.

Used by me for: Anything! A favourite!
I certainly and warmly recommend it to Europeans as equal to Wallis Professional,  and cheaper to get within the European Union. (No extra taxes or duties.)  Jackson's ship it to most European countries. See Tim Fisher's homepage for more info on his paper.

 

 

Middle Ages

Still-lifes seem to vanish from antique art as the Roman Empire got closer to its fall. Art in general declines as the prosperity of the Roman empire gets eaten up by wars and inner strife, resulting in a division of the empire, and its fall to the invading Germanic tribes, around mid 400s AD, or CE if you prefer.

Objects turn up again as ornamentations and book illuminations during the Middle Ages, but not as proper still-lifes, as we know and define them. Objects were commonly included in portraits (showing birth, status, ruler) and depictions of saints (signing who it was).

St Bridget of Sweden (14^th century), one of Europe's patron saints, is often depicted as carrying a model of the church she caused to be built, or as writing her revelations in a book, as seen in this book illumination:

 

Most of the paintings from Medieval times that are preserved into our times have religious motifs. The saints and their attributes were codified, and if you know the code, you can see at a glance who is depicted in a painting.

Up and into the 1600s

Next illustration of the principle is of a later date, the 1600s, which strictly isn't medieval, but as Sweden were a bit behind in adapting what was the latest fashion on the continent, and as we're moving forward in times in this Breeze, let's make a bridge to the 17^th century by taking a look at a more developed portrait  utilizing still-life as a "name-tag".

To show that the below painting isn't just any man in a tin suit, we have a still-life of objects to the left: A king's crown and the "apple of the realm" a globus cruciger symbolizing dominion over the world. (A symbol used by the Roman emperors, and the idea was appropriated by the Swedes.) The objects rest on a mantle of ermine.  Ah, clearly a King! Then there is a knight's helmet, and some other objects indicating war, and we can deduct that this is a warrior king. The Swedish king Karl X (Charles X, 1622-1660) was leading the armies in the 30 year war as a general, before being elevated to kingship in 1654 by his abdicating cousin, the reigning Queen Christina

And a detail:




But proper still-lifes were just starting to be revived, and we'll look into that in part 4.

To be continued.

 

Did you know that either the lower edge of the upper lip, or the upper (red) edge of the same lip very often has the same angle as the septum? For most people, there is a correspondence.

I learned about this some 20-30 years ago, and have spent many hours on the subway staring at people, confirming that these parallel angles are highly common -- I'd call it "normal", in fact. Unfortunately, I no longer remember where I learned it, but I was studying Leonardo's drawings at that time, so maybe it came from there.

This correspondence changes over the years, as the cartilage of the nose continues to grow all our lives (as do our ears). But, as gravity takes its toll on the upper lip too, it doesn't change as much as one might think -- not in all individuals.

This correspondence of angle is easiest seen in a neutral, fairly relaxed face. Even a hint of a smile offsets it.

In the picture, a to d shows the parallel lines. In e, the black arrows point to the fact that  if the nostril has a high curve, so does the upper edge of the upper lip. If the nostrils are flat, then the mouth has a very flattened M-shape (or Cupid's Bow, as we say in Sweden.)

The man in f belongs to a very common variation of the 'rule' -- his septum corresponds to the angle of the lower lip, when the mouth is relaxed and slightly open. The more pronounced the beak is, the steeper the angle of the lower lip. Yasser Arafat is an excellent example. But when the mouth is closed, it looks straight, or slanted as the first examples.

Look at people around you, when they are neutral or relaxed, and see if this is indeed true. Eventually you'll detect it in faces seen from straight on, too.

Roman Empire

There is a lot of archeological and historical material from this era. The empire prospered economically, and in good times a larger number of people decorate available surfaces just to please the eye. As the Romans to a large extent regarded themselves as a continuation of the Greek culture, a lot of the art was very similar to Greek art.

  A

A close-up of a simple Roman still-life, with a glass vase/pitcher, and some fruit that looks like peaches, but probably are something else, as they are greenish in colour. They are delicately shaded to show the roundness of form, and also highlighted. A piece is cut out from one fruit, showing what is inside it. The glass is depicted in the same way as in much later centuries: the highlights are painted on top of the background, and so are some darks. Here and there, we see cast shadows, with clear penumbras that are lighter and warmer than the shadows. This still-life isn't primitive, it shows that the painter had good observation skills, and good enough skills to paint this fresco in one go.

 B

Roman still-life B, also a close-up (due to size-restrictions on this blog) shows an elaborate green glass bowl overflowing with fruit, and the charming addition of a bird interested in what's offered. Some of the fruit is clearly clusters of grapes. I find it really interesting that the fruit seen through the bowl is painted so skillfully and believably. An effort has been made to make the bowl look round, with reflections on both sides, and a highlight at the front. Obviously, the glassblowers had high level skills in making glass-objects, and the painters in depicting them as frescoes.

  C

Still-life C is from Pompeii, that treasure of knowledge of life in Roman cities. (If you ever are in the vicinity -- go there! It is the antique site that has made the greatest impact on my senses, and my understanding of antiquity.)
 
Lo! A glass blowl, filled with fruit. I think we can draw the conclusion that elaborate glass was to be treasured and showed off. Pomegranates, with one cut open. Juicy grapes. The artist is really showing his skill-level in the blue-green glass that looks so life-like, while the amphora is clearly an object made of fired clay. It is hard to judge from a photo, but it seems like the use of colour was rather advanced. The glass bowl has a purplish-red streak along its edge, just the kind of colour-reflection the grapes would cause. The shadow-planes are not merely blackened versions of the other colours, but colours in themselves. Look at the little amphora, how the shadow is coolly greenish, while the part in light is yellowy and orangey! This fresco must have been spectacular when freshly painted. Pliny the Elder (quoted in post 1 of this series) was right.

To be continued, with the Middle Ages.

 

 

This is one of my smaller paintings. The challenge was to make something interesting out of a very bland reference. Isn't the name of the place lovely? Who wouldn't want to live in Happy Valley, ever after?

In the sketch I worked to rearrange the elements of the landscape so that the darks were connected, and so the trees on the left worked as a 'stopper', that is, so the eye wouldn't follow the curve of the creek and trees and go out of the painting to the right. The dark vericals there catches the eye and sends it back down, or up for that matter, and leads it back into the painting.

Another consideration was to create depth in the painting, by using colour to enhance the effect.

In the first picture below, I've 'mapped' out the lights and the darks, keeping cooler and lighter colours in the areas that are to recede, and warmer and/or deeper colours for what is to come forward.

The second picture shows the state of the painting as I'm halfway through, and the final is the finished painting.



I added a lot of warm yellows and oranges to the dried grasses, giving it a look of beautiful autumn in warm sunlight. Thus, a snowless winter picture got way more interesting -- for us who love colour. I needed an 'antidote' to all the cool paintings I've painted lately.

A larger version of the finished painting can be seen in this clickable link.

In the bleak midwinter, this title is ambiguous. Am I searching for the feel of summer sunshine, or are the vines reaching out their pale yellowed arms to the weaker warmth of winter sun?

Funny how often I find interesting things to paint in other people's photographs, and Searching for Summer is one of those. Reference given by KreativeK aka Kay at WetCanvas, as a part of a weekly drawing and painting event.

What enticed me here was the possibility to have really fun with the shadows. There were all sorts of reflected lights in them, and also on the wall in sunlight. The yellowy leaves of this Sweet Potato Vine bounced yellow all over the place, and the magenta of the window offered a beautiful spot of complementary colour to the yellow-greens.

In the below picture, I show my progress from underpainting to almost finished.

 

Well, I thought I had finished it, but then discovered that I'd painted the middle section of shadows too straight, almost as straight as the cast shadow from the shutter. In the ref, there was an object hanging among the "green stuff", which I didn't paint, but I simply forgot to consider the shadow. Couldn't have that, so I repainted the edge of the shadow to a way more interesting pattern, one that leaves would create. Sometimes, one can focus so much on one aspect that another just doesn't enter one's mind.

The method of painting light with colour allows me to take an ordinary pretty scene and make it a symphony of colours. My mission, if you will, in painting is to show the beauty in the ordinary.

A larger image of the finished painting is in this clickable link.

 

 

Still-lifes lead quite a quiet life beside portraits and landscapes. I find the micro universe of still-lifes fascinating. They are complete worlds of colour, light, shadows, form, shape, and symbology. This "poor relative" in the family of genres deserve better treatment, and is currently in the beginnings of what looks like it is going to be a revival.

Looking at  still-lifes through history, one may discover that they really are interesting. They mirror their times, the culture, and the overall paradigms, and also indicate paradigm shifts.

Etymology

Let's start by looking at the word "still-life" in some languages.

French: nature morte
Italian: natura morta
Spanish: naturaleza muerta
English: still-life
German: still-leben

In the case of Roman languages, the ?morte'/'morta' doesn't exactly mean dead, in this context, but more ?inanimate'. So, still-life would be ?inanimate nature'. 

The German "still" is similar to English ?still', as in ?be still', ?stand still'. German "leben" is ?life', ?living'.

OK, we get it ? inanimate objects sitting still, posing for a portrait. Now, what about flowers, fruit... or cheese...? Are they truly inanimate? (My husband is fond of cheese so ripe and aromatic it needs to be chained in order to not escape.... Some cheese are definitely animate.) Living things, like flowers, do not move around, so they're considered still.

Antiquity

There were still-lifes in Egyptian tomb murals, but I could only find  pictures of them incorporated in a scene with people. But, isolated it is a complete still-life, obviously of a genre type, as there are several based on the same pattern (1a and b).

Still-lifes existed in antique Greece, and were called "xenia", according to one source. They were objects reserved for the comfort of guests, houseguests. Of course these objects were painted so the family could show their generous hospitality to guests, and casual visitors too. It is not unthinkable that such paintings greeted guests in the entrance hall, or on the walls in the guestrooms. I've personally seen still-lifes in mosaic floors in an excavated Roman villa in Cyprus. 

Pliny the elder (Plinius) has described these paintings very graphically:

 "Purple figs dripping with juice are heaped upon vine leaves and they are depicted with breaks in the skin, some just cracking to disgorge their honey, some split apart they are so ripe?"

Unfortunately, no painting has survived the ravages of time, but frescoes and mosaics have. In the picture above, we see a mosaic with lobster and fish, and another with a simple still life of vase and birds. Maybe not strictly a still-life, but it is near enough.

These antique Greek still-lifes were meant to be a form of what many centuries later became known as trompe-l'oeil (French for "trick the eye"), mimicking reality, in Greek mimesis.

(To be continued, in a new blog entry.)

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In the class I'm teaching, we've reached how to paint coloured transparent glass. Finding a beautiful reference photo taken by Dianna Ponting in the Reference Image Library at WetCanvas (members only, but signing up is free), I decided to paint it too. Because of its wonderful chrystal colours, and to show my students a bit of the how-to.

I really wanted to focus on the glass itself, and the astonishing colours in their cast shadows, so I chose a crop of the photo which placed the objects as a mass slightly off-center, to create some 'movement' in the picture. As the glass objects are so vivid in colour, a simple composition is all that is needed.

With transparent, if coloured, glass, there are a few things to think of.

The cast shadows will:

- be filled with coloured light,
- have deeper and duller colours where the light has to pass through a lot of glass, as around the edges, 
- the coloured light will mix,
- the irregularities in the glass will show up in the cast shadows, even be enhanced in them.

Choosing a sanded paper, a white Wallis Professional for maximum reflected light, I drew the outlines of the objects, and then filled them in with flat colour (a). Next (b) the colour was made more "right".



Then the three dimentsionality was begun (c), and further developed, with more details (d).

Finally, I focused on details, taking the painting to a higher finish than I usually do, in order to make the sparkling glass justice.

The finished painting is at the top of this blog-post, and a larger version can be seen here.