cordial reception

scallywag

waiting for an outcome

rest for the wicked

A small painting made from life with pencil and acrylics.

never on time

I drew and painted this many years ago now, on a spare piece of cardboard. It was done quickly, because my model had places to be.

Reading The Count of Montecristo in the bathtub.

It's not easy - it's a big book.




I've mentioned before that years ago, when I was too poor for canvas, I made small paintings on cast-offs of cardboard. I made this in the bathroom of a student co-op in Toronto, Ontario, using pencil and acrylic paints.

In my bed, after the war

Drawn from life with a pencil on a piece of primed cardboard. I have no idea how long it took, but she was able to hold up the glass of wine for the whole thing.

autoritratto

A quick sketch with acrylics and pencil on a piece of primed cardboard.

Danilo

It's been a while since we've seen one of my small sketches on cardboard. They're old works, and date from when I was too poor to mess around much with canvas.

Here we see Dan, a painter with whom I shared a studio in Italy, much longer ago than I care to remember.

It was done with pencil. acrylics, and some watercolour.

A old painting

Years ago, when I was a poor student, I used to cover strips of cardboard with acrylic housepaint, in order to have something to paint on. Canvas was expensive.

I'd leave the cardboard lying around the room I lived in, and when opportunity struck, I was ready to make a painting.

Here's one of them, done from life with a pencil and acrylics:

Pretty Good Year

But now it's over. Sic transit omnia, I suppose.

Here's a picture, done near the beginning of another year. It was painted from life with acrylics on a layer of primed cardboard.

Autoritratto

An oldish self-portrait, done with acrylics on cardboard. I did it from life, using the narrow vanity mirror built into a dressing cabinet.

I'm wearing in the picture what was my favourite sweater at the time, but I lost it to a thief on the train between Milan and Bologna.

Impromtu in red, white and blue

I did this small character piece twelve years ago, back when I could barely afford canvas. The method was simple: I did a moderately detailed drawing in pencil from the model, and then worked very rapidly with acrylic on top.

Although frangible and awkwardly textured, the disposable nature of cardboard does encourage experimentation. Nor is it necessary to dispose of it. I still have this picture, over a decade later.

A glass too few

The model plans her next move, with the aid of a glass of dessert wine. It's a very old (January of Y2K!) drawing on cardboard.

Turning to spring

A painting from the bad old poverty-stricken days of painting on cardboard. When I saw how much colour she was wearing, I couldn't resist whipping out the paints.

I left out the hand to suggest movement; she's turning away from the viewer and her hand, due to its position on the circumference of the turn's arc, is moving the fastest.

The model comes home.

A painting on cardboard from some years ago. My model had just returned from the Amazon - she is usually a very pale woman. She's wearing a blouse she found in the market in Quito.

The difficulties cardboard presents for photography are obvious, I think. It would take a lot of work to smooth out the various bends and wrinkles.

From Naked Ape to Superspecies

is the name of the book she's reading.

An acrylic sketch on cardboard. Despite the fact that she's reading, she didn't hold the pose for very long. Even the best plans fail sometimes.

Manual labour at home.

An older sketch, on cardboard. Apparently, it was a day of painting.

Danielle in blue

An acrylic on cardboard, painted in something like an hour. As usual, I started with a fairly detailed pencil drawing on the primed board, and added the acrylic subsequently. The creases in the clothing and detail in the hair were made by scraping into the wet paint - since acrylic dries almost instantly, I had to work fast.

When I originally made this, I was irritated at how pointy the chin appeared, hence the inscription. It doesn't look so bad now.

An early painting

An acrylic sketch of Danielle, from years ago when I was too poor to use canvas when cardboard was available, and she still had short hair. I did a whole series of these: they started with a pencil underdrawing followed by some very swift work in acrylic. They took under an hour, although she could probably have held this pose for quite a bit longer.