#foreground is mostly gouache

[estrangedandwayward]

Realized that i never posted the full version of aemond on a horse. Aemond on a horse.

[murphysletsdraw]

First year I noticed the primrose... (and a first attempt at a gouache-only painting!)

Image description: a gouache painting in a cartoonish style with mostly de-saturated colours. An anthropomorphized orange cat and a small white mouse sit in grass, admiring three primrose flowers. The field around them is overgrown with a variety of plants and muddy in parts. Some of the plants have turquoise outlines. Two trees with their first leaves stand on either side of the animals. In the foreground there’s some rocks and the sky is overcast. End ID

[themuseumwithoutwalls]

MWW Artwork of the Day (11/3/24) Jean Béraud (French, 1849-1935) Valmy and Léa (c. 1885-95) Brush & brown wash, heightened w/ white gouache, 36 x 51.7 cm The Cleveland Museum of Art (Muriel Butkin Bequest)

A forerunner to the cabaret, the café-concert was an irresistible subject for artists working in fin-de-siècle Paris. Here, the performers are illuminated by the unnatural glow of gas footlights, while the musicians in the orchestra, seen mostly from behind, are tucked in the shadowy foreground. The neck of the double base extends above the crowd, drawing the viewer’s eye to the climactic can-can.

[tiikerikani]

I consciously choose to avoid explicit instruction in the arts that I'm most focused on (so I don't study mini painting tutorials or take voice lessons), but transferable skills from adjacent disciplines are fine.

I went to a session today where Aleksi Lydman (a local artist) demoed and had us try some watercolor painting. He has a series of paintings of animal silhouettes inside the shape of the same animal. (You can get them on stickers from his shop.) He mostly does these with forest animals so it was kind of funny that neither of us at the session picked them.

(I'd dabbled with gouache back in 2006-08 but never got beyond copying some Guild Wars skill icons and a couple of illustrations from the Lord of the Rings tarot deck.)

Having the swooping eagle that high above the landscape doesn't make a lot of sense but I didn't feel like painting foreground and I'd already sketched it in.

There are a number of similarities between watercolor painting and miniature painting; for example using the same brushes and using very thin paint in (even thinner) layers. (and then there's miniature watercolor paintings, omg. why else do 20/0 brushes even exist.)

(and yes that's an Army Painter brush in the picture; those are the biggest round brushes I have, though I could have borrowed his.)

[forabeatofadrum]

@redheadgleek​ @georgiegems (tumblr... won’t tag?). Thank you, thank you! And thank you @georgiegems for the nice comment on AO3 about the art. @calliopemelpomene​ sent it to me!

And @martsonmars​... HORSES. HORSES. HORSES. DID I FINISH THE DRAWING? OF HORSE I DID! I���m glad with how it turned out, which is mostly thanks to @calliopemelpomene​ ​for having a great reference. I suppose I can draw horses now. I had some pains with the background (fully caused by my own lack of planning) so I do think I went from “watercolour background, gouache foreground” to “gouache background, watercolour foreground.”

Two fun facts!

1. @calliopemelpomene​ was very kind in giving me some free reign, so when I asked if she had certain outfits in mind, she said that it was cold. I then went through fashionofglee to look at some of the coats that Blaine wore in the show. As a result, the coat is based on this coat from the Summer Nights performance.

2. There is a doc with some references and when I saw that Blaine’s glasses had a light frame, I decided to use silver shimmering watercolour. You can’t really see the shimmer in the scan, which was to be expected, but the fun fact here is that the metal on Wednesday’s horse harness is the same paint, so they match in shimmer-y goodness.

[artist-mondrian]

Drydock at Durgerdam, Piet Mondrian, c. 1898-99, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Prints and Drawings

**Conservation of this watercolor was made possible by a generous contribution from Dena and Al Naylor.** Before the Dutch painter Piet Mondrian committed himself to avant-garde abstraction in the late 1910s, and became a leading proponent of nonobjective Neo-plasticism, he was an accomplished landscape painter. This watercolor, executed in his mid-20s, represents a shipyard at Durgerdam, a coastal village seven kilometers east of Amsterdam, and shows boats of various shapes and sizes, including, in the foreground, a sailboat dry-docked for repair. It is a colorful scene, and Mondrian’s interest in geometry seems apparent in his emphasis on line, mostly diagonal and highlighted throughout in white, of the buildings, fences, and boat masts. He depicted this dry-docked sailboat at Durgerdam in at least two other works on paper; the Minneapolis version is the largest and most finished of the three. Size: 24 3/4 x 35 5/8 in. (62.87 x 90.49 cm) Medium: Watercolor and gouache

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/4192/

[cma-drawing]

Valmy and Léa, Jean Béraud , c. 1885-1895, Cleveland Museum of Art: Drawings

A forerunner to the cabaret, the café-concert was an irresistible subject for artists working in fin-de-siècle Paris. Here, the performers are illuminated by the unnatural glow of gas footlights, while the musicians in the orchestra, seen mostly from behind, are tucked in the shadowy foreground. The neck of the double base extends above the crowd, drawing the viewer’s eye to the climactic can-can. Size: Sheet: 36 x 51.7 cm (14 3/16 x 20 3/8 in.) Medium: brush and brown wash, heightened with white gouache, over graphite

https://clevelandart.org/art/2008.407

[mysticsparklewings]

Terrarium Nova

Would you guys believe this started out as me trying to practice trees & use up some leftover paints sitting in/on my palettes from other projects?   The tree practicing is for a different project I'll be doing later, and I'll share the specifics of then   But yeah, I have a good amount of leftover watercolor dried onto a couple of cheap palettes, as well as some acrylics paints in a palette meant to keep them fresh (but unless you monitor it and spritz them with water every couple of days, they will still eventually dry up) and I really hate to waste any of it if I can help it, especially when it's my slightly nicer stuff. (Some of it was, some of it wasn't) So I figured I'd try to kill two birds with one stone, and the end result ended up looking pretty cool, although I do still have some more paint that didn't get used here, so this may not be the last random-ish painting you see from me. Oh, and I was also recycling a little bit since I used the back of a giant piece of watercolor paper I had previously used as a protective mat for my desk. I started with the tree shapes, mostly inspired by Bonsai trunks, and that actually did use up pretty much all of the dark brownish paint I was using, so I was off to a strong start. Then I went in with some metallic watercolor that was leftover from my Butterfly Babe piece, which dried with more of the black and silver I had mixed into it on top for reason unbeknownst to me, so the first little hill/mound I made naturally came out darker and more silvery than the additional hills I added later than came out decidedly more gold. I think after that I added in the orange sun/planet (in my head it's the sun but a lot of the details here are very ambiguous in what they could potentially be) and an accompanying orange horizon line. Originally, I thought I was going to be making a very sunset-ish background with possibly a very red sky and mixing the yellows in more, but that obviously didn't end up happening. I was kinda just going with what I felt like and where the paint wanted to take me. So I ended up going in with the yellows (and later red and magenta) leftover from my $50 vs $4 Watercolors piece (these ones being the $50 ones, the $4 ones were put on a separate palette while I was using them so I wouldn't get the two mixed up) and ended up making many yellow hills to fill out the background some more, though admittedly the ones on the left kinda got away from me a little. And I'll pause here to say that I was using water brushes throughout this entire piece as opposed to actual paintbrushes, and every time I use those (at least when I'm getting proper water flow) I find that I tend to have a somewhat easier time getting certain watercolor effects, mostly when it comes to blending out hard edges. It's funny to me, as a lot of artists would say water brushes have a higher learning curve than regular brushes, and I'm sure some have a harder time with them. I think the main reason I have an easier time might be because back at the beginning of the year when I started re-discovering watercolor, the first set of paints that got (the Viviva watercolor sheets, for anyone who's curious) came with a water brush, and at the time I had never used one and was really excited to try it, as well as I just didn't have a ton of brushes at my disposal. Likewise, I spent a lot of my time learning watercolors on a water brush, whereas, naturally, most artists learn primarily on regular brushes. To be fair, I would like to one day invest in a slightly nicer set than the cheaper set of different size water brushes that I currently have, as these don't always flow correctly and at least one has a very slow leak where the top screws on, which hasn't caused any painting problems but is just kind of annoying because it very slowly gets my hand wet while I'm using it. Anyway. I then decided I hadn't used enough of that metallic paint and went in and added some dots of various sizes in the sky, since I didn't really feel like trying to make proper stars of any kind, but I wanted more up there and that seemed like a good place for more metallic paint. After that, the plan was to start on my red sky, but I started putting the red down and realized I hadn't cleaned my brush very good, so I got this interesting shimmery darker red color, and since I had already messed up, I liked the color enough I decided to make a moon out of it, which is why that red pot is hanging out over on the left side there. Why this "moon" and the "sun" are out at the same time, I couldn't tell you. Sometimes things just happen in art. That led me to the decision that instead of covering the whole sky in a color, I would just add some clouds, and I decided to got with the expensive magenta on my palette. Things were going fine until I grabbed more paint than water (as I was hoping for kind of pale/blended out soft clouds) and I ended up with some pretty nasty unblended lines one of the clouds and it was notably darker at the top than the others. And so I introduced the technique of "this one cloud got messed up so the rest of you have to suffer!"  And I also kind of had to be okay with none of the blending and layering on them turning out super smooth or nice for consistency's sake. And you know, it's not fine art or anything, but it doesn't look as terrible as I thought it was going to. (Though that could really be said for this entire piece. ) I also ended up adding in the purple-y mountains in the foreground after feeling bad that I'd neglected some of the paints I'd originally been intended to use the most, and I think in the end it adds a nice contrast and kind of ties the magenta clouds into the piece as a whole more. I knew I still wanted to do leaves on my trees, which were still just bare trunks and branches by this point, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to do for them yet, so I did this kind of dome thing for the sky, after acknowledge I did not want to have to try and get a smooth, consistent blue wash around everything else I'd already painted in. (Yes, I once again forgot the principal rule of painting--put the background in first) While that dried, I took a break to ponder my next move. I hadn't used any of the acrylic paints that I had leftover (more than I originally would've had too, as I ended up making a sign for my mom that I haven't decided yet if I want to post or not) and one of the colors was green, which is a very basic choice for leaves, but I already had so many other strange colors going on that the basic blue sky and some simple green leaves didn't seem like asking too much. So then I just had to decide what the leaves were going to look like. In the end, I went with using the back end of a paintbrush to dot on some of the green and some of this pale, yellowy color, and a little of a mixture I made using those two colors together (originally for the sign, not this), and I tried to place the dots in mostly realistic places for leaves. And admittedly I could've done a lot more leaves and really filled out the trees, but I felt like it looked better with more of the trunk and branches showing. I also went with the dot thing partially to carry over the dots in the sky. I'm not really sure what kind of theme that is, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. And then last but not least, I signed it with a purple gelly roll, trying to balance in both color and placement just a wee bit. Funnily enough, the most tedious part of this process was actually what came after it was finished. Because I was working on a giant piece of watercolor paper that was previously a mat for my desk, and I wasn't really sure how this was going to turn out, naturally I wasn't really thinking about what size I was painting at while I was working. And wouldn't you know it, my poor painting here ended up being too long to fit in my scanner all at once.  So I had to cut it out of the giant piece of paper and then scan it twice; once to get one end, and then a second time to get the other end. Then, of course, the two pieces had to be stitched together in Photoshop, which wasn't too bad. I then spent more minutes than I care to admit trying to figure out how/to what extent the best way was to single out the little oval-ish shape of the painting, as I thought that would be much nicer than leaving the ugly bits an pieces of white scanner background. I tried to keep the actual edges smooth, though I nixed the idea of having it be a perfect oval shape right from the get-go, mostly because of how much of the edges would get cut off in one area or another. So the shape itself is very imperfect. Still, I think in the end everything turned out pretty nice. And admittedly after how the later part of last week went for me, it felt really nice to just kind of go in and not really worry about the details or if everything was turning out exactly right or whatever. Sometimes you need to do something that's just loose and has very few rules to it like this. Personally, I think I really needed this at this time in particular, and for as unplanned and simple as it is, I'm really happy with how it turned out. The title is a little random; the shape and what I did with the sky kinda reminded me of a terrarium, and much like a nova is the birth of a star, this was a pretty spontaneous birth of a...planet, I guess.  I almost called it "Terra Nova" (roughly "earth star birth") but upon Googling that because it sounded familiar, I decided I did not want to name it after a movie that came out in 2011 that I know nothing about and have no affiliation with. Anyway, things might be a little slower on the art front this week, as I have a bit of a tall order to-do list, but for the foreseeable future things are going to be somewhat interesting here; I finally ordered a gouache set I've had my eye on, and it should be here by the end of the week, as well as the tree thing I mentioned at the top of the description, and another project I've done some preliminary work for...Jeez, I have an awful lot to try to squeeze in before Inktober starts, don't I?   Perhaps I'd best go and get started on all that. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[torritgrey]

Creating Psychology Through Color versus just signifiers/the imagery

Sorolla Beach paintings 

patchwork of color versus imagery of scarves

Beach of Valencia, Museo Sorolla

Influence of German Expressionist painting

19th Century painting

Manet moving in that direction

Japanese prints

Dramatic shapes

Great deal of consciousness, edges 

Real consciousness of color edges

Ocean, beach, little girls, BUT ALSO ABOUT light/atmosphere = here is has to do with contrast

CHURCH PAINTING in BIlbao

giving up abstraction for the primary signifier

Lace cover

Floor

If matisse painted this painting, he would be interested in other thigns, like the patterns on the floor, the color behind the priest.

CONTRAST IN PAINT = is another way of saying light. 

what if the other people were more faded out, but the girl in pink is in focus. 

In the landscapes, more attuned to

Psychological issue in the figures

Now you have to study feelings in earlier work about color, larger areas of contrast. Scale change also.

Scale change has to do with color and signifier.

In the beach painting, the red is truly purely color, not a lot, dotted across - you will see this in Whistler (a few areas of very pure color, in a painting with less color). It’s like setting jewels, where you’re going to put them. Old friends: color change and value change. 

When you want to create more light and atmosphere - you can compare those two paintings. 

Painting in bottom has a lot of signifiers, but the first painting has few signifiers -- but there is a range in the middle = peter doig. 

Early vuillard (beach) to late vuillard (painting of bilbao)

In early painting: BIG AREA, some broken up in tiny details - he is more intersted in shape than in the imagery

In late paintings = all the teacups you can see

Looking at these paintings will givec oyu an idea of what you can do with your paints. How do you organise the colors (in the way you did landscape) to create feeling,

CREATING FEELING IS THE JOB OF COLOR.

TO THINK ABOUT LIGHT + IMAGERY = PSYCHOLOGY. NOT JUST IMGERY TO CREATE PSYCHOLOGY, BUT ALSO LIGHT. 

ALL THAT HAS TO DO WITH COLOR CONTRAST. NOTHIGN MORE THAN THIS. 

Not adding something, finding waht you already have. Can it be in the whole context of color. 

USING COLOR TO ORGANISE PSYCHOLOGY

Peter Doig, organising color

She is white so she is like the stars, she is the protaganist

The yellow is a bit magical, because it contrasts with the blue

Everything else is dark. 

Like a munch painting

Mostly blue, dark

Colors of all 3 figures: Lots of drama between these 3 figures, they are aware of each other. 

One figure is ghostly 

One figure has white cap on, what does it signify

Other person has camera in his hand = it’s light, but all the rest of painting except for 3 figures and moon are half tone (mid tone) or darker. This is what creates the drama. Warmth of skin color to rest of the world (people are warm, everything around is cool). 

Smaller compositions of the same motif 

Look at very psychological dead painters

People’s use of color very free, still very narrative

Not Bob Thompson 

Spiritual possibility of this world

19th century European painters

Munch

Early Vuillard

LOOK AT COMPOSITION (not realism), Robert de Niro senior, Dana Schutz = the figures are still figures, human. There are still in grounded universe. Message of painting is more than we can see if those figures are in the room with us.  

Fragility, vulnerability, big heads are a bit like dolls but not quite. Symbolic but not departed from this world. 

Take liberties with anatomy and how figure is constructed, but not completely. 

Beckmann 

GOOD MISSION. What has been a struggle to be true to source of materials, to the photo, people, and sense of color. 

Color shift between foreground and background.

Take more chances with chroma!!!! With the bright things. 

The color white, if you are doing gouaches. Think first about chroma and shape. White comes in when you’re struggling (white used to make things have volume, where paintings would lose luminosity).   They lose narrative quality. Space between red, yellow, blue paintings. 

Color of wall Color of panes different  These are similar values  These are very dark Once you get out the window, everything is supre bright. Just use a different palette (white painting) INSIDE IS yellow brown / darker palette.  You are very vivid,  The light outside is washed out.  

Susanna’s background = CREATING PSYCHOLOGY THROUGH COLOR.

Most of the painting is brown 

Just a sliver of green

Brightness if off to the side, but everywhere else is brown. 

Creating psychology through color. 

Sometimes when you make a growth shift, you leave some things behind that was intuitive to you. But you can bring it back.

Skin = here I’m one thing under this light (not that vivid a color, grey tones). 

Red is darker, color is more vivid, when I’,m with the green. 

Take your gouaches and sketch pads, look at people on the beach, people are very dark and their bathing costumes are opportunity for extreme color. Enjoy and restore yourself, let your eyes really focus on contrast. When you’re outside, they’re always more of a contrast outside in terms of figure ground 

[naturesblues]

10.) Winter Scene in Moonlight

Again tonight, underneath that blue moonlight I will probably fall asleep alone

Labels:

Artist: Henry Farrer

Title: Winter Scene in Moonlight

Medium: Watercolor and gouache on white wove paper

Dimensions: 11 7/8 x 15 3/16 in. (30.2 x 38.6 cm)

Date: 1869

Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art

Artist Biography:

Henry Farrer was a London-based self-taught painter and etcher. Farrer emigrated to the United States in 1863 and opened a studio in New York. He was a co-founder of the American Watercolor Society and New York Etching Club. His drawings were mostly oof street and harbor scenes in and around New York City. He is known for his watercolor works and mastery of tonality. (Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Art Critic Statement:

English-born Henry Farrer was the brother of Thomas C. Farrer, the principal founder of the Society for the Advancement of Truth in Art, which represented the Pre-Raphaelite movement in America. Unlike his brother, who studied drawing with John Ruskin in London, Henry was probably self-taught, beginning in the early 1860s to produce painstakingly wrought still lifes and landscapes in watercolor. He exhibited them regularly at the American Watercolor Society, which he helped to found. "Winter Scene in Moonlight," Farrer's earliest known watercolor landscape, probably represents a site in Brooklyn, where he lived most of his life. The picture's prosaic terrain and precise technique reveal the young artist's early adherence to Pre-Raphaelite ideals, while its faint primitivism betrays the earnest autodidact that he was. Because of that quality, as well as its chill nocturnal setting and subtle asymmetry of composition, the image anticipates the disturbing tenor of twentieth-century Surrealist landscapes. (Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Element - Perspective:

This work has a one-point perspective which highlights the vastness of the sky and the clouds which seem to be endless. The hills also seem very expansive, and the trees numerous, with this perspective. The openness of the moon's surroundings emphasize it being in the center of it all.

Principle - Proportion:

Farrer uses proportion to depict the size of the moon. The trees in the foreground and background help to achieve this, and make the moon a believable size.

Selection process:

Winter Scene in Moonlight fits the lyrics "Again tonight, underneath that blue moonlight / I will probably fall asleep alone." The moon in Farrer's piece is placed in the center of a rich blue sky that one can imagine that the moonlight is blue. The barren tries make the landscape feel lonely and desolate. This scene demonstrates that nature too can feel empty and isolated under the moon.

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: On the Road with Wayne Thiebaud

Wayne Thiebaud, “Big Cloud” (1992), mixed media on board, 32 x 24 inches

Wayne Thiebaud is best known for paintings of food: rows of cakes, pies, and lollipops. He seems to have understood our unsavory cravings for sweets long before it became a public health problem. He loves to equate creamy paint with thick frosting, and let’s face it, no one does it better. He is a modern master. However, as well known as Thiebaud is for his paintings of food and lunch counters, what gets overlooked is his ability to merge the fanciful with the formal. For years he has invented landscapes that speak to everyday turbulence as well as idyllic calm. His views of dizzying heights and steep inclines get at something basic in our nature, a sense that whatever we are standing on — no matter how solid — can slide without notice into the ocean, collapse, or crumble. After all, it is northern California that he has painted for many years.

Wayne Thiebaud, “Up Street” (1993), oil on canvas, 24 x 18 inches

For those who want a close-up look at Thiebaud’s whimsical side, the exhibition Wayne Thiebaud: Land Survey at Allan Stone Projects (October 26 – December 23, 2017) is a good place to start. The exhibition includes more than two-dozen modestly scaled drawings, paintings, pastels and mixed media works, dated between 1966 and 2000, depicting cityscapes, mountains, and farmland. Thiebaud has absorbed a lot from a diverse group of artists, including Grant Wood, Giorgio de Chirico, and Richard Diebenkorn. In the highway-scape (what else to call it?) “Up Street” (1993), he depicts a multilane highway slightly off center and parallel to the picture plane. In the foreground, along the bottom edge, we see the crest of another multilane highway, a car disappearing over the edge. That curled plane along the bottom, like a perfect California wave, opens a vast space between it and the vertical highway.

This is something Thiebaud does with incredible pictorial economy. He gets you to think about the way we have shaped the landscape to suit our needs, while recognizing the folly and hubris that goes into it. This does not suggest apocalyptic thinking. Rather, it means that he knows something about mankind’s foolishness while at the same delighting in the possibilities of paint.

Wayne Thiebaud, “Freeway Curve” (1995), oil on canvas, 24 x 36 inches

In “Freeway Curve” (1995), a wide black curve (highway) full of speeding cars starts at the upper left quadrant and swings down sharply to the bottom edge, slightly off center. It makes sense even if such an angle is impossible. In fact, if anything, it might remind you that driving is a matter of skill, trust, and faith. The abstract blurs of paint at the top of the curve are signs of how quickly everything can go wrong. I think one reason Thiebaud paints these impossible views is because he simply wants to see if he can pull it off, make it believable enough while also celebrating the painting’s flat, insistent surface. You can buckle under or you can have fun. Lucky for us, Thiebaud decided on the latter.

In the gouache on paper, “Valley Farm” (1974), Thiebaud depicts the side of a slope in profile: the ridge starts on the upper left edge and plunges down to the bottom right. A house rises from the crest. In the middle-ground, a perfectly elliptical pond is visible. In front of it is a cow. The house is too big and the cow is too small and the ridge is too sharp. Everything in the painting is wrong, but it makes perfect pictorial and, equally important, emotional sense. The deep loneliness of rural America flows through every inch of the mostly blue surface of this gouache.

Wayne Thiebaud, “Valley Farm” (1974), gouache on paper, 11 x 8 1/2 inches

Edward Hopper did this in “Early Sunday Morning” (1930), with the impossibly long shadows spanning the full length of the sidewalk. Like Hopper, Thiebaud knows how to expand one part of a painting while condensing another. Moreover, their work is touched with a degree of melancholy. The difference is that Hopper’s melancholy borders on despair, while Thiebaud’s seems to border on something approaching joy.

In Thiebaud’s gouache, you get the feeling that the cow is a stand-in for the artist: he is drinking from this amazing pool, but there is no one else to join him. The world is empty is every direction and yet, as the pond suggests, nourishing. This is Thiebaud’s strength: he stirs up contradictory and complex feelings without ever relying on extraneous details. He pushes toward abstraction but never crosses over: everything we see in his work has a counterpart in reality: car, freeway, cloud, mountain, river, pond, desert plane. He loves to push a thick, creamy coat of paint across the canvas, like a baker covering a cake with frosting, but doesn’t allow it to fall into a mannerism.

Wayne Thiebaud, “Sunset River Study” (1996), oil on board, 5 3/8 x 7 7/8 inches

He can be a tonalist when it is called for, or he bring together unlikely and zany colors to depict a pink river. He can make a cloud look like a ball of cotton candy. There is a hedonism to the way Thiebaud applies the paint and chooses his palette, but it never gets out of hand: that is what is breathtaking about the work. He knows how to dance out on a limb and even, by some sleight-of-hand, extend it further than you might have thought possible — but he also seems to know just when to stop. The lone cow should not be standing by a perfectly elliptical pond, but it is. It is there in the distance, a place you know that you will never reach, no matter far you walk.

Wayne Thiebaud: Land Survey continues at Allan Stone Projects (535 West 22nd Street, Chelsea, Manhattan) through December 23.

The post On the Road with Wayne Thiebaud appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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[artist-mondrian]

Drydock at Durgerdam, Piet Mondrian, c. 1898-99, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Prints and Drawings

**Conservation of this watercolor was made possible by a generous contribution from Dena and Al Naylor.** Before the Dutch painter Piet Mondrian committed himself to avant-garde abstraction in the late 1910s, and became a leading proponent of nonobjective Neo-plasticism, he was an accomplished landscape painter. This watercolor, executed in his mid-20s, represents a shipyard at Durgerdam, a coastal village seven kilometers east of Amsterdam, and shows boats of various shapes and sizes, including, in the foreground, a sailboat dry-docked for repair. It is a colorful scene, and Mondrian’s interest in geometry seems apparent in his emphasis on line, mostly diagonal and highlighted throughout in white, of the buildings, fences, and boat masts. He depicted this dry-docked sailboat at Durgerdam in at least two other works on paper; the Minneapolis version is the largest and most finished of the three. Size: 24 3/4 x 35 5/8 in. (62.87 x 90.49 cm) Medium: Watercolor and gouache

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/4192/

[artist-mondrian]

Drydock at Durgerdam, Piet Mondrian, c. 1898-99, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Prints and Drawings

**Conservation of this watercolor was made possible by a generous contribution from Dena and Al Naylor.** Before the Dutch painter Piet Mondrian committed himself to avant-garde abstraction in the late 1910s, and became a leading proponent of nonobjective Neo-plasticism, he was an accomplished landscape painter. This watercolor, executed in his mid-20s, represents a shipyard at Durgerdam, a coastal village seven kilometers east of Amsterdam, and shows boats of various shapes and sizes, including, in the foreground, a sailboat dry-docked for repair. It is a colorful scene, and Mondrian’s interest in geometry seems apparent in his emphasis on line, mostly diagonal and highlighted throughout in white, of the buildings, fences, and boat masts. He depicted this dry-docked sailboat at Durgerdam in at least two other works on paper; the Minneapolis version is the largest and most finished of the three. Size: 24 3/4 x 35 5/8 in. (62.87 x 90.49 cm) Medium: Watercolor and gouache

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/4192/

[artist-mondrian]

Drydock at Durgerdam, Piet Mondrian, c. 1898-99, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Prints and Drawings

**Conservation of this watercolor was made possible by a generous contribution from Dena and Al Naylor.** Before the Dutch painter Piet Mondrian committed himself to avant-garde abstraction in the late 1910s, and became a leading proponent of nonobjective Neo-plasticism, he was an accomplished landscape painter. This watercolor, executed in his mid-20s, represents a shipyard at Durgerdam, a coastal village seven kilometers east of Amsterdam, and shows boats of various shapes and sizes, including, in the foreground, a sailboat dry-docked for repair. It is a colorful scene, and Mondrian’s interest in geometry seems apparent in his emphasis on line, mostly diagonal and highlighted throughout in white, of the buildings, fences, and boat masts. He depicted this dry-docked sailboat at Durgerdam in at least two other works on paper; the Minneapolis version is the largest and most finished of the three. Size: 24 3/4 x 35 5/8 in. (62.87 x 90.49 cm) Medium: Watercolor and gouache

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/4192/

[artist-mondrian]

Drydock at Durgerdam, Piet Mondrian, c. 1898-99, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Prints and Drawings

**Conservation of this watercolor was made possible by a generous contribution from Dena and Al Naylor.** Before the Dutch painter Piet Mondrian committed himself to avant-garde abstraction in the late 1910s, and became a leading proponent of nonobjective Neo-plasticism, he was an accomplished landscape painter. This watercolor, executed in his mid-20s, represents a shipyard at Durgerdam, a coastal village seven kilometers east of Amsterdam, and shows boats of various shapes and sizes, including, in the foreground, a sailboat dry-docked for repair. It is a colorful scene, and Mondrian’s interest in geometry seems apparent in his emphasis on line, mostly diagonal and highlighted throughout in white, of the buildings, fences, and boat masts. He depicted this dry-docked sailboat at Durgerdam in at least two other works on paper; the Minneapolis version is the largest and most finished of the three. Size: 24 3/4 x 35 5/8 in. (62.87 x 90.49 cm) Medium: Watercolor and gouache

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/4192/

[artist-mondrian]

Drydock at Durgerdam, Piet Mondrian, c. 1898-99, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Prints and Drawings

**Conservation of this watercolor was made possible by a generous contribution from Dena and Al Naylor.** Before the Dutch painter Piet Mondrian committed himself to avant-garde abstraction in the late 1910s, and became a leading proponent of nonobjective Neo-plasticism, he was an accomplished landscape painter. This watercolor, executed in his mid-20s, represents a shipyard at Durgerdam, a coastal village seven kilometers east of Amsterdam, and shows boats of various shapes and sizes, including, in the foreground, a sailboat dry-docked for repair. It is a colorful scene, and Mondrian’s interest in geometry seems apparent in his emphasis on line, mostly diagonal and highlighted throughout in white, of the buildings, fences, and boat masts. He depicted this dry-docked sailboat at Durgerdam in at least two other works on paper; the Minneapolis version is the largest and most finished of the three. Size: 24 3/4 x 35 5/8 in. (62.87 x 90.49 cm) Medium: Watercolor and gouache

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/4192/