Leader of the Pack

Okay, so it's not called a pack, nor a herd, apparently, but a fold, a fold of Highland Cows.  She, in all of her shaggy black beauty, was its undisputed leader.  I observed her, not entirely unseen, for the two and half days that I had the pleasure of staying at her hotel (why don't all hotels have folds of cows and flocks of sheep and chickens and rows of piglets?) .  Hotel Le Germain in Baie St. Paul, Charlevoix, QC, has all that and more.  Nothing escaped her wise bovine gaze, especially not me, who was trying to observe unobserved,  I couldn't resist painting her portrait. 

No Bull, Highland Cow, oil on panel 12" x 12" © Shannon Reynolds 2016

Painting from a live model

There's really no substitute. I love to set up my portable paintbox and tripod and paint with a limited colour palette in one burst of intense concentration.  There was a great turn out last Wednesday night for the sustained pose at the Cambridge Centre.  Here is my oil painting of our lovely model, Irena.

Irena, portrait study from life, oil on gessoed board (detail)

Irena, portrait study from life, oil on gessoed board, 9" x 12"

Solo Exhibition of Paintings at the Red Brick in Guelph

Shannon Reynolds
at the Red Brick Café
8 Douglas St. Guelph, Ontario, Monday- Saturday 8am-11pm, Sunday 11am-5pm
October 26 through December 13

My paintings will be hanging at the Red Brick Café in downtown Guelph until December 13th. The exhibition features a few large paintings and many smaller landscapes and animal studies as well as some oldies but goodies from earlier series, notably my dj hands.  There's something for everyone.  The historic cafe/gallery space is high-ceilinged and light-filled with several comfortable rooms.   If you are in Guelph over the next few weeks, I hope you stop in for a cappuccino or a craft beer and let me know what you think of the show.

Under sodium lights

Here's a small portrait sketch in oils from last night's life drawing session. The model is our session coordinator and sometime model, Miss Robin. I've been using far more paint of late--applying it thickly, with almost no added medium except what I need to make the paint workable, and drawing directly with the brush instead of relying on a preliminary underdrawing.  It's exhilarating.

A small portrait sketch in oil on panel (detail)

A portrait sketch of Miss Robin, oil on panel (detail)

The light in the room where we draw is lit with low pressure sodium lights, which are great for energy efficiency, but terrible for colour rendering accuracy.  Under those lights, I lose all perception of the red spectrum, which isn't a problem when I'm drawing, but is a definite challenge when painting. I always emerge from the room with a far more highly saturated painting than what I'd perceived.  Last night I paid closer attention to my colour mixes and tried to get the tones right, so the painting isn't quite as far off as usual.  Still, it's a little like painting while colour blind.  I love the Cambridge life sessions, so maybe I'll look into getting some kind of clip-on light with high colour rendering index to take with me on painting nights.

A portrait sketch of  Miss Robin, oil on panel, 11" x 14"

Incidental landscape

This landscape painting is not mine, which is to say I painted it, but it’s a copy. 

 

Incidental landscape (detail), oil on canvas

I’m painting a corporate portrait in which the CEO, an avid outdoorsman and art collector, is posing in front of a landcape painting which hangs in his office.  The original is a highly finished instantly recognizable Ontario landscape conjuring Muskoka or Algonquin in a familiar language we know if not from actual experience, then from Group of Seven paintings.  I had to stylize it significantly for the background of my painting. As a portraitist, I’ve only painted a handful of landscapes but hope to paint more.  In this case, freed from considerations of composition and subject, I could enjoy sketching the landscape, without being a slave to accuracy (unlike the portrait part in which likeness is my necessary preoccupation).  Here's a larger view, with telltale ear and suit jacket shoulder:

Incidental landscape with telltale ear (still a detail), oil on canvas

How easily a wind twisted pine against pink tinged clouds against a blue sky evokes the northern Ontario (okay, northern, southern Ontario) landscape.  Made me want to trade my brushes for a paddle.

Three-hour painted study from life

I've been taking advantage of the opportunity to paint from life at monthly three-hour single pose sessions at the Cambridge Centre for the Arts.  The brief single session forces concentrated observation and loose paint handling.  This one is from the January session.

Robin (detail), painted study, oil on prepared paper

Robin, painted study, oil on prepared paper, 11" x 14"

Mercedes

Mercedes (detail), oil on panel

Mercedes, oil on panel, 11" x 14"

A three hour painted sketch of model Mercedes in oils.

Max and the Chocolate Chips

During a recent portrait sitting I discovered the usefulness of chocolate chips as a bribe for encouraging an active, two year old boy to sit for a pose, but I hadn’t considered the mess.  Here’s Max, nearly two, with his adorable chocolate chip smeared face, and mischief in his eyes: 

Max with chocolate chip smeared face, oil on panel, 9" x 12"

 And here’s Max, beautifully framed by Dimensions Custom Framing and Gallery:   

 

Max, framed

The framers and gallerists, Wendy and Ellen, liked my work enough to take a few of my pieces for their Toronto gallery space.  I’ll have six small paintings in their Small Works Holiday Show & Sale opening December 12^th.   The gallery is at 732 Queen St East (just east of Broadview on the North side) in Toronto.  Hope some of you can make it.

Bridget

Bridget, oil on panel, 12" x 16"

A painting of my gorgeous niece in typical contemplative mood in the late day sunshine.  Hope you like it, Bridget!

Wonder Woman glances up

Donna as Wonder Woman , oil on canvas panel 8" x 8"

A painted sketch of my good friend Donna as Wonder Woman, as requested by her adoring husband.

Two-hour painted sketch in oils

Deb (detail), oil on panel

  A two-hour oil sketch I did at the Cambridge Centre for the Arts life drawing session last night. 

Deb, oil on tinted panel, 16" x 20"

Recent life drawings

Leaves are on the trees and suddenly the world is transformed.  I hope to be out sketching land and cityscapes in addition to life drawing very soon. In the meantime, here are some life drawings and portrait studies, mostly in charcoal and chalk, from the past month.

Eden, charcoal and chalk on gessoed paper, 12" x 14"

Govan, charcoal and chalk on painted board, 11" x 12"

Sean, charcoal and chalk on gessoed board, 8 1/2" x 11 1/2"

Eden, charcoal and chalk on gessoed paper, 11 1/2" x 15"

Eden, charcoal and chalk on gessoed paper 9 1/2" x 14"

Rachel, charcoal and chalk on gessoed paper, 15" x 22"

Portrait Study from Life

Jenna, portrait study, detail, oil on panel

This is a portrait study I began at a three-hour live session in Guelph and finished up in  the studio.  It's painted in oils on an 11" x 14" panel, pre-toned with a red oxide wash.

Jenna, portrait study, oil on panel, 11" x 14"

The afternoon sessions have some challenges, particularly the shifting light as the winter sun makes its quick descent.

Painting and Drawing from Life

Rachel, oil on panel, 11" x 14"

I've recently discovered a life drawing group offering a regular, three-hour, single-pose session, which allows me the luxury of painting from a live model.  It's great for for forcing a broader, more economical painting style.

And here are some drawings from the regular format life drawing sessions, which typically begin with quick gestures and progress to longer poses:

Jenna, gesture, vine charcoal on paper

Jenna, gesture, vine charcoal on paper

Jenna, gesture, vine charcoal on paper

Jenna, chalk and charcoal on gessoed paper

Govan, chalk and charcoal on gessoed paper

Govan, chalk and charcoal on gessoed paper

Cosimo 1992-2012

My best animal friend for over 20 years.  This portrait is of him as he was in his final month--a still regal centenarian whose personality was, as always, a hundred times bigger than his size. 

Cosimo, oil on panel, 20" x 16"

Cosimo, detail

Cosimo, detail

Flannery

This painting is hommage to a lovely little cat named Flannery.  She was a longtime companion to a good friend of mine.  Unlike many pets whose unique relationships with their human companions remain private and sometimes incomprehensible to the outside world (I speak from experience) Flannery was beloved by everyone who knew her.  She will be missed.

Flannery, oil on panel 8" x 10",  2011

Hex, this painting is my birthday gift to you.  Surprise!

If it's dry, I'll put it in your hands on Sunday.

Portraiture Exhibition Opens Saturday

I have a couple of pieces in a new group portrait exhibition opening this Saturday at the Harbinger gallery in Waterloo. Both are from my ongoing series At the Feet of the Master(ed). One, What's Mine is Yours, is featured on the invitation, above. Three of the four artists in the show--Allan Harding MacKay, Isabella Stefanescu, and I--were featured in the first season of Star Portraits. Karen Fletcher, a figurative sculptor, adds another dimension to the show.

My new painting, If you remind me of my dog... I'm publishing here for the first time.

If you remind me of my dog... oil on panel, 30" x 40", 2010

As I was composing the painting, I kept humming the refrain from Jane Siberry's song, Everything reminds me of my dog: "If you remind me of my dog, we'll probably git along, little doggie, git along git along little doggie..." Do you know it? Anyway, I couldn't shake it, so I wrote to Jane Siberry requesting permission to use her lyrics in the painting, and, gracious woman that she is, she wrote back within the hour granting permission. I worked with Jane's ethereal voice in my head for the duration of the painting. Jane Siberry is on a salon world tour performing intimate concerts in the homes of her fans. How lovely it would be to share a small space with Jane's bright, funny, whimsical personality and uniquely haunting voice. To read more about her tour, visit her website: janesiberry.com

For more information about the exhibition, please visit the Harbinger Gallery website.

Derek Weiler 1968-2009

Derek (detail), oil on canvas,

collection of Gerald and Marie Weiler
© Shannon Reynolds

I’ve been thinking about Derek all day, reading the tributes, and wanting to write something myself. But when I found myself using the past tense, my heart broke and I couldn’t continue. Finally I decided that if I addressed myself directly to Derek, the brutal finality of the grammar might be a little easier to take.

Derek,

I have your advance reader’s copy of Roberto Bolano’s 2666 on my nightstand, your mixed tapes and cds throughout my music collection, your face in many photographs documenting some of the best moments of my life, your portrait as Fifth Business (the role you chose to enact, so aptly, in my Dramatis Personae painting series) in my living room, your words and gestures in my memory—everywhere traces of you, and yet, unbelievably, never again you.

You insinuated yourself so easily, so modestly, but so indelibly into so many lives. I doubt that anyone who knew you for more than a few minutes ever forgot you. I can’t believe I’ve had the privilege of your friendship for over 15 years. Your boyish good looks (a cliché turn of phrase that was made for you) and affable demeanour belied your strong opinions. But you never shied away from debate and were always willing to consider other perspectives. You were the beating heart of our long-running book club, and you kept us punctual, diligent, and well-read—feeding us links to interesting supplementary articles and reviews on our blog, not to mention the celebrity status you conferred on us when we attended the IFOA annually. Without you, how can we go on?

In my mind I can conjure you so easily. I’ve been remembering one gesture in particular, one I’ve seen you make so often, the one where you scoop your arm around Sari’s shoulder and pull her next to you, then look down at her while she looks up at you and exchange that perfectly intimate smile only possible between people deeply in love. The memory makes me gasp—at the realization of what you gave, of what you had, and of what we’ve all lost. Too soon, Derek, much too soon.

You’ve left a uniquely Derek shaped hole in my life, and in so many others. Thank you for spreading yourself around so much. I’m so glad I knew you. I’ll never stop missing you.

Shannon