Keiko Sono: ddriveby 2001

Mon, 16 Aug 2004 06:11:28 GMT

Wells, 8.13.2001(#7)
Wells, 8.14.2001(#8)
Wells, 8.14.2001(#9)
Wells, 8.15.2001(#10) After painting six consecutive scenes, I had to change the pace and mood in order to escape fatigue of senses. These one hundred scenes were selected from more than five hundred snaps I took over the course of three days, so they encompass all the different light, from morning to dusk. The last hour of the day light is particularly dramatic in this landscape, with the setting sun radiating intense orange glow against the rolling hills which in turn cast dark shadow that slithers like a giant serpent as I pass by in the car. Driving through this region is a fantastic experience any time of the day, but it is at dusk that this reaches a divine realm. I never felt more precious about the sliver of light disappearing into the horizon and the following otherworldly glow slowly turning gray then black, as if the sun was setting for one last time. And to translate this into 5" x 8" two dimensional surfaces using pulverized earth and heavy metals? I was regretting that I ever took on this challenge when I made #7. #8 did not help me either, but I had enough time for another try that day so I came up with #9. Some how, in some small ways, this was an improvement over the first two. Perhaps I let go of the overwhelming pressure of recreating the original impact. I started to see my painting more as an abstract picture rather than a mirror of the visual world. I paid more attention to the overall harmony of this humble 5x8 universe which also carried through to #10. The edges are softened, the shadows reflect more light, and skies are more sensitively gradated. But like the setting sun, satisfaction in painting is so elusive. Who knows what tomorrow will bring...

Driveby 6

Mon, 09 Aug 2004 20:49:41 GMT

Pine Grove, 8.8.2001 (#6) Interesting. I didn't like this one so much when I painted it, but now I kind of like it. Dark tree silouhettes on the horizon are usually difficult because they could turn overly cute. I'm happy with the way those sharp silouhettes contrast with the blurry grass at the edge of the asphalt. Trees are very sparse in this area, and when you see them they look rather odd and wooden (pun unintended). From the distance, they remind me of the miniature plastic trees you use in model making. They are great fun to paint, being the last touch to add at the end, but horrible to correct if mistakes are made.

Driveby 5

Sun, 08 Aug 2004 03:58:01 GMT

Pine Grove, 8.7.2001 (#5) This one starts to get a bit muddy in the foreground grassy area! It's a fine line but yesterday's piece was nailed just with a few strokes without having to go over it at all. With this one you can see some of the trees were wiped and then repainted, and the brown and gold of the grass are becoming like cumulus clouds rather than waves of grass. Still, I'm getting pretty comfortable here with this combination of colors and composition, I stopped short of destroying it. Perhaps it's time to go on to a different scene...

Sat, 07 Aug 2004 02:46:21 GMT

Pine Grove, 8.6.2001 (#4) I was very happy about this one. The tree on the right is the obvious focal point, and that came out quite satisfactory. Something as simple as that can at times look very out of place... The colors in this one seemed more fully balanced than in the first three. There is a right amount of warm orange and gold in the wheat to counterbalance the bright blue of the sky, and the blackness of the tree anchors the colors. I liked the subtle difference in tones between the brown soil and black asphalt of the road. As with all good paintings, this one happened quickly and effortlessly. The sad thing is, you can't deliberately make it happen. I follow the same methods, chant the same mantras, wear the same beret, smoke the same cigar butt, and always enter my studio with my right foot first, my left hand in fist and my right eye closed, all while singing Like a Virgin backwards. But alas. It's a mystery when it clicks and when it falls apart.

Driveby 3

Tue, 03 Aug 2004 05:04:03 GMT

Pine Grove, 8.2.2001 (#3) Hmmm. I was not all that happy with this one. It's hit and miss with thin lines in oil painting like the fence cables in this one. The paint must be pretty fluid but not dripping, you have to have a steady but not rigid hand, and you can't make mistakes. This one was a miss. When the whole composition is so simple and geometric as in this painting, those last touches could make it or break it.

Driveby 2

Sun, 01 Aug 2004 20:25:10 GMT

Pine Grove, 8.1.2001 (#2) I was driving quite slowly when I took the snap shots from which these paintings were made, and shots were taken at quite frequent intervals. So you see that this painting's view has not changed much from the first one. You see the same trees in the back ground, but the dark road surface is gone somehow. These works were painted on chalk gesso which is very absorbent. This simple mixture of hide glue and Champagne chalk is a very pleasant ground to make and paint on. The usual rule of applying many thin coats rather than one thick coat doesn't apply in this case. The light consistency is that of light cream, and it has a wonderful covering power. Two coats are usually enough for most painting surface. Running your hand over a freshly coated chalk gesso is such a pleasure--it's cool, moist, smooth and hard, but feels very gentle and seductive. Natural substance at its best. If you are a painter or have a painter friend, you owe it to yourself to try it at least once. If you are making a tempera painting or other very detailed work, you would sand and polish this surface which creates ivory-like texture. This process is worth doing just for the pleasure of it. But for my purpose this was not necessary. Actual paintings show the fine grooves of bristles. On this absorbent ground, oil paint naturally becomes mat. The gesso is too absorbent to use as is (too much oil is absorbed and the pigments become dusty and flakes off in time), so I apply a color ground with acrylic paint to make the right absorbency. Controlling the absorbency of the ground, I believe, is one of the keys to oil painting. I also make a rough under painting with acrylic, often just two tones--sky and ground. This combination resulted in a very pleasing satin texture and clear colors in the final painting.

Driveby 1

Sun, 01 Aug 2004 03:59:22 GMT

Pine Grove, 7.31.2002 (#1) Three weeks before I made this painting, on July 10, my 39th birthday, I made a prototype of this entire series. I had been struggling for months to come up with the right style and format for the show, and that day it just fell on my lap. I was ecstatic. That very night, I received a phone call from my mother in Japan informing me that my father had a rapture of a cancer tumor in the liver. His health had been failing although he was just here a few weeks prior to that, enjoying fishing. I left very early the next morning. My father passed away two days later. After spending two weeks in Japan I came back and faced this painting project. I stared at the 7.10 painting and could not help feeling that my father had given me his last breath to help me out. Within a week I began working on the series and this is the first one I completed. I was not mourning at all. On the contrary I felt freer than I had in a very very long time. I felt a renewed energy flowing out of me like a spring that had been bottled up. The good thing was, I did not feel guilty for feeling that way. It was a pure clean joy all around, punctuated only by occasional bursts of emotion of missing him. This painting reflected that. It is not exceptional by any means. It's just light, with clean lines. No big expectations. No meddling. The surface is mat, having only 1-2 layers of paint mixed with the old Ralph Mayer's formula--stand oil, dammer, turpentine in 1:1:5. I was especially pleased with the distant band of golden wheat. It seemed to successfully recede into distance, as if to promise the bright days ahead.

Driveby Introduction

Sun, 01 Aug 2004 02:37:21 GMT

Three years ago today, July 31, 2001, I made the first of one hundred paintings I created for a show in Art Tower Mito, a contemporary art museum in Japan. They were painted from snap shots I took with a compact camera mounted on the open driver's side window at a frequent interval, while driving through the vast wheat producing region of Eastern Washington. Although the idea of making one hundred paintings as opposed to several large canvases developed out of practical reasons rather than creative needs initially (to minimize the shipping cost for example), this regimented painting practice proved to be a very important step in my artistic development. One a day, five a week, twenty a month, and a hundred in five months--never before or since have I adhered to such a mechanical schedule, but this was not just a mindless production process. My purpose was not to produce a cohesive, consistent body of work, but to reflect the daily changes in my emotion, knowledge, and skills. The subject is about being in motion, not to get from A to B, but for the sake of it. Carrying on this type of daily practice was also to be in transit, with time as the road to travel on. And this path certainly presented significant obstacles as it went through the month of September. Three years have passed and we are now at a critical turning point. My personal life and artistic endeavor have also gone through changes and are now at a turning point. While producing new works which reflect dramatically different sensibilities, I wanted to retrace the path I took three years ago in a different light. Blog is an ideal platform to explore yet another path/context on the same subject, and I would be most obliged if anyone would spend your time on a segment of it. ________________________________________________________ Specification: Size: 5 1/2 by 8 inches Medium: oil over acrylic Ground: hide glue and chalk gesso over poplar