DAD'S STUDIO - PRINTER'S LOUPE

One of the objects I kept when dismantling my Dad's studio was this brass printer's loupe, made in Germany. I quote here Wikipedia's description, for those who may not be familiar with this device:
"A loupe (pronounced 'loop') is a simple, small magnification device used to see small details more closely. Unlike a magnifying glass, a loupe does not have an attached handle, and its focusing lens(es) are contained in an opaque cylinder or cone, or fold into an enclosing housing that protects the lens when not in use. Loupes are also called hand lenses."

A printer's loupe is usually small---this one, when folded up, is about the size of a large postage stamp.

Opened, it holds the lens at the correct distance for focusing on a detail of a printed page. This built-in positioning eliminates having to fuss with and adjust the position of the lens while also trying to inspect the printed image.

Place the opened loupe on the printed area, and by then looking through the top of it...

...it is possible to see the dot pattern that makes up an offset reproduction (the usual technique by which most images are reproduced today), as well as other details. Being able to look at the printed area so closely helps with color correction, and with improving the overall reproduction.

When finished, fold it up and tuck it away for the next time.This loupe probably originally had a fitted leather case in which to store it--now lost. Loupes are still being made, and some of them are more complex than this one. But the modern loupes are plastic, and aren't always designed to fold up. I love the heavy solid feel of this little brass version, its collapsibility, and the fact that it did its job in Dad's studio for over 70 years.

NO LINES!

So much of my work combines line with color and tone. I've recently challenged myself with a new assignment: create images, either in color or black-and-white, using no lines. NO LINES ALLOWED.

(At least, no lines allowed in the final. I wouldn't know how to compose without using lines.) I began with the scenery for this particular image. Every artist has his or her own method. If the background and scenery for an image has any complexity, I like to work that out first. It's like creating the stage set.

Then I add the figures. I can easily place them, choreograph them, rearrange them, however I like. As usual, I put each element or figure on a different layer of transparent vellum, making it easy to shift positions. This eliminates the need to re-draw...re-draw...re-draw. As I've said so often, this is exactly the same process one would use with, say, Photoshop on the computer---working in layers. I just happen to prefer creating the layers with a pencil and paper.

After some experimentation, I decided to execute this composition in pencil on vellum---a surface that has a nice tooth for pencil. (Working surfaces being pricey, I did my experimenting on a partially used piece of vellum---the outlines of a lawn chair that you see are from another project.) I also tried a couple of different pencils before settling on a Koh-i-noor Kunstlerqualitat Negro #3, a tool that I have loved for years. (This pencil is no longer manufactured. Fortunately for me, I stocked up on them years ago, and figure I have enough for the rest of my lifetime---and perhaps beyond.)

Because this was a relatively new way for me to work, I kept pieces of scratch paper next to me, and experimented frequently with ways to handle various parts of the drawing. A foot coming at you, seen slightly from below, is always tricky for me.

The finished drawing. I decided not to use the checkerboard pattern on the floor that I had originally visualized. Too complicated, it seemed, for the very simple approach that had evolved.

I decided to use the final drawing for one of my promotional postcards, so I drew a little fir twig in the same style for a decoration.

The finished postcard. My experimentation gave me a double return: a new technique that I might use in a future illustration job---and a promotional piece for December.

THE 3-COLOR PALETTE

I've been emphasizing that one does not need a huge palette in order to achieve a variety of results. (See my earlier posts on this topic:  http://thewendywatsonblog.blogspot.com/2013/10/my-palette.html, http://thewendywatsonblog.blogspot.com/2013/10/my-palette-continued.html)  I was reminded of an exercise that my grandfather Ernest W. Watson suggested in his book ERNEST W. WATSON'S SKETCH DIARY:  try painting with a palette of just 3 colors.  I chose yellow ochre, light red, and Winsor blue as my palette for this demonstration.

I started with this little ink drawing of a figure I drew for the book I LOVE MY BABY SISTER, by Elaine Edelman.

In this version,all 3 colors are of fairly equal importance.  Notice that although only 3 colors are used, the effect does not feel at all "limited".  On the contrary, it is very colorful.

In this version, the 3 colors are again of fairly equal importance, but the overall effect is rather different from the first example.

In this example, the blue is clearly the dominant color, and there are only bare touches of the red and yellow.  But again, the effect does not feel "limited".  You will notice that all 3 of these images do consistently "go together" in the sense of feeling as though they are from the same pictorial family.  This is one of the huge boosts the illustrator receives when using a limited palette.  A limited palette almost automatically produces art that is consistent throughout a book or project.  And once again, in this post I'm preaching my strong belief that the artist does not need a huge array of materials in order to produce beautiful work.  Instead, I suggest that the artist choose carefully a small arsenal of high-quality tools, and then learn through trial and error how to get the absolute most out of each one of them.

MY PALETTE, CONTINUED

In my previous blog MY PALETTE I talked about my physical palette, and the choice of pigments that I lay out on that palette.   There is one other way we can define this word palette:  the color scheme chosen for an individual piece or book.  It's important to remember that a limited number of colors on the physical palette does not mean a limited number of color schemes available for one's art.  In fact, I myself start with a limited choice of colors on my palette, and then focus on an even smaller selection of colors out of that palette from which to create a color scheme for a project.  The illustration above, from my book LITTLE BROWN BEAR, was created from the list of colors I gave in that earlier blog   (http://thewendywatsonblog.blogspot.com/2013/10/my-palette.html).  For this image, I used all of the earth colors from my palette, plus a green, and a couple of reds. But I hardly touched my purple, blues, and blacks.

In contrast, for this illustration, from my book JAMIE'S STORY, I avoided the earth colors almost completely.  Instead, I focused on my purple, rose, cerulean blue, and cadmium yellows.  Greens were created from the blue and the yellow, keeping all the colors cool, clear, and vibrant. 

In this illustration, from WENDY WATSON'S FROG WENT A-COURTING, I also stayed away from the earth colors, but concentrated this time on all the variations of blues, greens, and yellows that I could come up with.  Touches of pinks and reds warmed the image, and the color scheme overall is one of pastels---very suitable for this spring-time tale of love.

In this illustration from FOX WENT OUT ON A CHILLY NIGHT, I've gone back to my earth colors, but have also relied heavily on reds and yellows.  And the color itself is strong, deep, sturdy, and vigorous---no pastels here.  A very appropriate approach for this old American folk song.

In this illustration from John Bierhorst's IS MY FRIEND AT HOME, I relied very heavily on all of my earth colors, especially yellow ochre, burnt sienna, and light red, to reflect the Southwestern locale, but I also incorporated a strong element of darkened blues, purples, and greens.  These acted as a cool counter-balance and framing device for all the warm earth colors, and also echoed that cold, dark aspect of the desert.  

Several examples of what can be done with the same limited palette---and I've barely scratched the surface.

MY PALETTE

The artist's palette:  whatever working surface or object might be chosen as a support for squirting out paints.  I use a "butcher's tray"---the metal enameled meat tray used, yes, by butchers---as my watercolor palette.  It's perfectly smooth, it never stains, it's easy to wash off in the sink whenever necessary.  And it's basically indestructible.  My first butcher tray palette was smaller and a bit simpler in shape than the one I show here, with a nice black rim around the upper edge.  I still have that tray-palette, and use it for projects that require only a few colors.  The tray I show in the photo is a later model---larger, giving more room for mixing.

The artist's palette is also the actual array of paints used in painting.  For watercolors, I use only Winsor & Newton Artist Water Colours.  As with my brushes (http://thewendywatsonblog.blogspot.com/2013/09/my-brushes.html) these watercolors are among the most expensive one can buy.  But they are worth the cost.  A tiny bit goes a long, long way---one small tube lasts me for years, if I am careful to keep it tightly capped so it doesn't dry out.  (And actually even if it has dried out, it can still be resuscitated and used normally with a wet brush.)  The quality of the paints, their handling, the intensity of their colors, are always the superb.  My palette---array of colors---is relatively small.  Many years ago my publisher very graciously made me a series of proofs of all the colors that I had then in my palette---far more than those above.  The proof demonstrated to me which colors reproduced faithfully to the original, and which did not.  And it explained why some of the reproductions of my illustrations were not satisfying.  As a result of this experiment, I very sadly eliminated some of my favorites from my palette because they reproduced so differently from the original: Cadmium Red, Prussian Blue, and others.  But the palette with which I was left---the palette which I still use today---is one that I know will consistently reproduce my work and be faithful to it: yellow ochre, raw sienna, cadmium yellow pale, cadmium lemon, brown madder alizarin, light red, burnt sienna, permanent rose, cobalt green, olive green, terre verte, hooker's green, winsor green, cerulean blue, antwerp blue, winsor blue, winsor violet, alizarin crimson, neutral tint, sepia, and black.  Unfortunately, some of these colors are no longer manufactured.  Fortunately, I stocked up on all of them some time ago, and have enough on hand for years to come.

MY BRUSHES

For many of my book illustrations I have used pen and ink with watercolor as my media.  With watercolor, I usually apply the paint first as washes, and then in a dry brush technique.  My brush arsenal for this method?  Two brushes:  a big fat one, and a smaller one.  The big fat brush I use when I have very large areas I’m covering in an even wash.  It’s a Winsor & Newton Sceptre Gold brush made up of both sable and synthetic bristles.  But almost all of my work is done with the smaller brush.  That workhorse is a Winsor & Newton Series 7 sable watercolor brush, in a size 4.  The Series 7 brushes are very pricey.  But one brush will last me through an entire book’s worth of strenuous art-making, still holding its point and behaving as beautifully at the end as it did at the beginning.  The other argument in favor of this brush is its remarkable facility, flexibility, and responsiveness.  To me, it almost does the painting for me.  I try to explain to students that instead of buying those bushels of mediocre brushes that they so often seem to own, they should spend the same amount of money on just one good brush.  It’s all you need---and it's the difference between a plywood box of a violin, and a Strad.

When I employ acrylic as my media, my repertoire of brushes is just a bit larger: 3 synthetic-bristle Winsor & Newton brights, and a tiny sable brush, size 00, for fine details.  All Winsor & Newton brushes are among the most expensive brushes one can buy.  But again, as I say to students:  sit on an orange crate if you must; use an old plank for your desk; store your supplies in a grocery bag.  Save your money for the three things that really make a difference: good brushes, good paints, and good paper.

MY VALUE FINDER

I am by choice a very low-tech kind of artist.  Perhaps even a dinosauric artist.  One of my tools is this Value Finder, created in 1980 by Binney & Smith to use with the Liquitex acrylic range of grays. (On this scale, value 1 would be black, value 10 would be white.)  It's printed on a piece of stiff card stock, about 4 x 6.  The card itself has yellowed over the years, but that does not reduce its usefulness for me.  I lay the card over the area of art that I want to assess.  Then, looking through squinted eyes, I move the peepholes over the art until the color showing through the peephole blends in with the color on the card.  Presto---I have a value number.  Different scales of color value can look slightly different from each other.  This  doesn't matter.  The issue at hand is one of relativity, not absolutes.   I use this gadget to help me keep my artwork---the values of all my colors---consistent throughout a book.  If the darkest shadows in my key illustration have a value of 3, then I want all of the darkest shadows on every page to have the same value.  If my lightest colors in that key illustration have a value of 8, then I want the lightest areas of every page to have that same value.  If the costume of my main character is a nice bright red in its middle tones, then I want those middle tones to be of the same value throughout the book, no matter how small or large the character is on a particular page.  Consistency from page to page in picture book illustrations is critical---and this little card enables me to achieve that with ease.  

ONE PIECE OF ART: TRANSFERRING THE SKETCH

After reading my explanation of the steps I went through to create the art for the pin-on button, several of you asked, "How did you transfer the sketch to the watercolor paper?"   There are actually quite a few ways this transfer can be made, from completely mechanized methods all the way down to totally manual processes (after all, artists have always had to transfer sketches to working surfaces, long before our modern technological age).  I will demonstrate here the method I almost always use these days. This was the final sketch for the button, combining the little figure and the necessary text:

My next step was to scan this sketch into my computer, and print it out on transparent film:

I then set up my light box:

A light box (or light table) is just what it sounds: a box with a top of either transparent glass or acrylic; or frosted glass or acrylic.  Inside the box, beneath the glass/acrylic surface, are fluorescent light bulbs. 

When the light box is turned on,it generates an intense bright light through its transparent surface.  The brightness is demonstrated in this photo---although I took the photo in broad daylight, and the light box is situated exactly where it was in the previous photo, the camera has to turn the surroundings nearly black to demonstrate the difference of degree in lightness.  (Or at least, that's how I've had to do it---I'm not yet facile with my digital cameras!)

I lay the piece of printed film on the surface of the light box, and then lay a piece of 90 pound watercolor paper over the film.  90 pound paper is a moderately lightweight paper.  This enables the printed sketch to show through it well enough that I can trace it lightly onto the paper with a soft pencil.  In this photo, the printed sketch does not appear as distinctly as it does in real life.  In any case, I do not need to make a perfect, identical copy of the sketch.  I have learned from experience that it is very important that I be, in a sense, creating the finished art for the first time.  If I am slavishly "copying" the sketch, the finished art will be lifeless.  

And so, once again---finished art for a pin-on button!