The bedroom. The place where people sleep. In western culture it's an intimate room often tucked away in a private area of the house. Artists have been painting them for ages. But in my search for images I found mostly erotic and religious works that happen to take place there. It was much harder to find paintings that were all about the bedrooms themselves. Until I got to the 19th century. So what changed?

Well, prior to the 19th century western painters made a living by making art for the one percent of their day. And what did the wealthy want? Mostly portraits of themselves, and art with religious, mythological and historical themes. Along with the occasional naughty picture commissioned for their own unofficial and secret enjoyment.

But then came the industrial age, and with it the growth of the middle class. Artists found new buyers who were interested in a whole 'nother type of art. Basically their new clients wanted nice paintings to hang on their walls, and were uninterested in large formal paintings with a religious or complicated  message.

Technology brought major changes for artists too. Photography, a new invention, became a  popular source for portraits. New tools, like collapsible paint tubes and portable easels catapulted painters out of the studio and into the great outdoors. Discoveries of bright new pigments opened their eyes to the brilliant world of light and color. Freed from former constraints, artists began experimenting with their shiny new toys. And looking to their own, personal experiences and immediate surroundings for inspiration.

Why was I interested in bedroom paintings in the first place? Well, as you know there's a pandemic on right now. I was looking for inspiration without leaving the house. This couldn't be the first time artists encountered rainy days or pandemics. I wanted to see how they made the best of being stuck inside. 

Do you paint interiors? Have you got a favorite artist who did? Or a favorite painting of one? Do tell us in the comment section below.

I'd love to hear from you!
Click on the comment section below to add your questions and comments. ​

Red is quite a fiery, flashy color, isn't it? It likes to jump up and down and wave for attention. It monopolizes all eyes in the room. Too many flashy colors in your painting and it could escalate into a brawl. Although I adore them I rarely place such flaming colors so prominently in my paintings. Usually I save them for a few bright accents just to liven things up. That didn't happen this time.

It was full harvest mode at my local farmer's market. Amid all the produce was a dazzling assortment of peppers in yellows, oranges, reds and greens. All these gorgeous colors caught my eye, so I brought a box home to paint in a still life. I arranged some orange and green peppers in a bowl with a few red ones scattered about for a bright color pop. Frankly, my first attempt was not a success. (Hey, it happens. All the time, actually, and thereby lies a tale for another post.)

When I finally got around to the second try the peppers had ripened into a full blazing scarlet. Not my original intention, but what can you do. An artist has to adapt. Anyway, that red was such a rich, ravishing color that I went for it. I'm a sucker for a challenge. But how to make it work with all that heat? I thought that by surrounding the reds with some cool grays and blues it might calm the composition down a bit. And allow the reds to shine. And that it might be fun to contrast them with that one lone green pepper that refused to ripen. 

For the next painting I went back to my usual m.o. with a gentler color scheme. And some brilliant color pops. Back at the market I picked up another box of peppers. Orange ones.  This time the red accents were in the leaves of a croton plant sitting by the window. It was a dark, rainy day and I loved the way the soft, cool grays played against the vivid reds and oranges in my peppers and leaves, setting them off nicely. 

I'd love to hear from you!
Click on the comment section below to add your questions and comments. ​

​​Follow me!
Instagram   Subscribe

Look what I found! A photo of me, way back when.  I was just a kid, posing for my mother's painting class at the Hudson Guild Art School in Chelsea. It brought back memories of my first art teacher, Hungarian artist Theodore Fried (1902-1980), who taught art classes there for both children and adults. He had been in the Paris art scene of the 1920s, and later, when the Nazis came, his art was banned as "degenerate". Being Jewish he fled for his life to Toulouse where he forged passports for the French Resistance. Escaping once again, he made it safely to New York where he established his own art school. An amazing story to be sure, but I knew absolutely nothing of this when I was a child. To me Mr. Fried was a jolly man with a nearly impenetrable Hungarian accent and a twinkle in his eye. He loved kids and often entertained us by wiggling his ears. 

When I first showed up in his class at the age of ten, Mr. Fried handed me a brush and a muffin tin filled with poster paints. He encouraged me to paint anything my little heart desired. Months later he gave me a pencil and started me down the road to drawing from life. This was much more challenging, especially when he forbade me to use the eraser – ​an exercise designed to make me think carefully before drawing. When I became proficient enough at this he allowed me to join the older kids in the oil painting class. I was thrilled.

I'd love to hear from you!
Click on the comment section below to add your questions and comments. ​

Okay, so now I was sure of my composition and was ready to commit. The next step was to paint a light, watery layer of color over it as a further aid in envisioning the entire piece. Then, with my plan in place, I began to develop the painting, going over everything with stronger colors and more details. 
​
​After I'd taken the painting as far as I could, I took a deep breath and a giant step back. It was time to ponder, push and pull. And to administer a few finishing touches. Were there any weak lines that needed fortifying? Any sharp edges that should have been softer? Could the painting use a bit more oomph by adding some dark accents? I made all the necessary adjustments.

Suddenly loud warning bells started going off. Uh oh, the signal of approaching danger! I was standing a little too close to the edge, that fine line between overdoing it and leaving well enough alone. It was time to step away from the painting and put the brushes down.

And there it was, the painting was finished. All in a day's work. The only thing left to do was to roast the eggplants. And boy were they delicious. 

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to contact me about this painting. Thanks for visiting!

In our last episode I featured a painting of flowers with not just one but several glass vases. Colored glass is one of my favorite subjects to paint. I love the beautiful tinted shadows that are produced when light passes through it. And the way that glass sparkles with little highlights of reflected light. Fun, right? 

In fact, the vases were so much fun to paint that I looked around for more shiny objects. On one of my forages through the kitchen I spotted some fine-looking peaches sitting on the counter in a stainless steel bowl. I thought maybe a bit of striped fabric would make for some interesting reflections. I wasn't keen on all those energetic stripes overwhelming the whole composition though. That's why the stripes nearest to the bowl were painted with more intense color and contrast, while the surrounding ones were left a bit hazy. The lemons were placed in a sort-of semicircle leading the viewer's eyes on a little walk around the bowl and stripes before heading back to the juicy peaches. 

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to contact me about this painting. Thanks for visiting! 

I'd love to hear from you!
Click on the comment section below to add your questions and comments. ​

I have a confession to make: I'm not a very fast painter. (Yet! I'm working on that.) So whenever I set up a still life of perishable objects I estimate how long it will take to paint. This is important why? Because flowers wilt and food left out of the fridge goes bad! And when they go bad they're not particularly pleasant, if you know what I mean. So, if my set up is threatening to turn, the bad news is that I've got to work fast. But that's good news too, because it doesn't leave much time to overwork the painting. And if you've read my previous post, you'll know I prefer to keep my paintings looking fresh.

Okay, so here's my strategy. First I do a quick pencil drawing and lay a light wash or two of color over the whole composition. This establishes where all the objects will go, what their general color is, and the direction of the light. It gives me an overall impression of where the painting is headed. Then I get right to work on any fragile vegetable matter, finishing it as quickly as I can. When that's done I breathe a sigh of relief, because then I can take my time completing the rest of the painting. Phew.

That was my plan for the painting below. My bouquet had been around for a few days and was just beginning to fade around the edges. After tossing out a few lifeless flowers I needed to put the remaining ones into a smaller vase. When I took a bunch of vases down from the shelf to make a choice they looked so pretty together with all their different shapes, sizes and colors. So I decided to put them all into the painting. Hey, Giorgio Morandi did it, so why not me.

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to contact me about this painting. Thanks for visiting! ​

I'd love to hear from you!
Click on the comment section below to add your questions and comments. ​

​Follow me!
Instagram   Subscribe

 Why do people love realistic looking paintings? The more a painting resembles a photograph, the more most people seem to admire it.  Maybe that's because it takes real virtuosity to pull off a photorealist painting. And, like watching Olympic athletes, we love to see people excel at things we have little chance of accomplishing ourselves. Sure, I get that. I even admire some photorealist watercolorists myself. But it's not a style I try to emulate. 

Why not, you ask? Well, perhaps it's just a matter of personal taste, who knows. But I'm attracted to a more spontaneous, understated and fresh approach. One that watercolor is particularly suited to with its playful, watery ways. It's one of the reasons I decided to study the medium in the first place. And, by the way, to do it well takes incredible virtuosity! That's why I keep on learning and practicing, just like an athlete does. 

Which brings us to the next question: When is a painting finished? And when is it overdone? As in cooking pasta, I believe it's best to take it off the fire before it gets mushy. While it's still al dente, if you will. Maintaining that delicate balance between describing too much and just enough. To create an illusion you can understand without being shown everything. To say it's not easy for the artist to stop before crossing that line is a complete understatement. A painter is always, always tempted to add just one more little thing. And then another. And so on. Oy!

Okay, so I was going for that magic balancing point when I painted these veggies from the farmer's market. Fortunately there was an automatic time limit because we were having corn for dinner. With no other choice, I had to finish it before dinner time. So I refrained from painting each and every leaf,  every single corn kernel, and every little silken hair. Instead my best effort went toward suggesting them, and leaving room in the viewer's imagination to fill in the blanks. Something that the human brain is designed to do.

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to contact me about this painting. Thanks for visiting! ​

I'd love to hear from you!
Click on the comment section below to add your questions and comments. ​

What do I do when I can't get outside to paint? I paint indoors, of course! Every weekend I'm drawn to the rich bounty of fruits, veggies and flowers at my neighborhood farmer's market. They're so fresh and juicy, and come in gorgeous shapes and colors.  A painter's dream. 

After hauling it home it's a challenge to arrange the harvest into pleasing compositions. It's an even bigger challenge to paint in watercolor. Well, for me, anyway. Fortunately I have the kind of personality that relishes a good challenge. Keeps me amused and out of trouble. 

You can click on an image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! ​

Like many of you who live car-free in urban areas, I don't get out that much these days. Summer is my favorite season of the year, but this year I feel it passing me by. Well, not just me of course. There are so many suffering far worse. After all, there's a little thing called a pandemic that's pretty much changed the entire world as we know it.

Personally, I got smacked the hardest when the warm weather showed up. I wait all year long to pack up my easel and brushes and take them to wonderful parks and places all around my city. This year safety precautions and family responsibilities put a cramp in that. However, I'm supposed to be a grownup so I try not to sulk. Not 24/7, anyway. Besides, painting indoors is fun. Even in summer. There are luscious, dreamy fruits and vegetables at my local farmer's market just calling out to be painted. So I try my best to memorialize their deliciousness before feasting on them. 

You can click on an image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! ​

Gary Tucker is a very fine and experienced watercolor artist. A few years ago he gave a workshop in New York City that I was fortunate enough to attend. What a fun and wonderful learning experience that was! Ever since then I wished that I could take an ongoing class with him. But alas, he lives in far away Boston, while I live in New York City. Well, one silver lining in an otherwise horrific pandemic is that Gary now gives weekly online watercolor lessons. I've signed up for every single one of them, and I'm so glad I did. Recently my understanding of this beautiful but tricky medium has gone way up, and all because of this opportunity to study with him. 

Below are two still life paintings that I set up in front of my window. They were done as homework for a lesson about using transparent glazes over washes of warm color. The first composition is a variation on the one that Gary painted during his demo. The second painting is my own original composition and  shows a pot of azaleas in front of the New York City skyline. You can click on an image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! 

For more information about his online watercolor workshops please visit Gary Tucker's website. Highly recommended.