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A New World of Possibilities

My illustration assignments lead me toward portrait painting.



  My illustration work, such as these
paintings for the Reader's Digest
Condensed Books, led me directly into
portrait painting. I used the model
who posed for the illustration above as
the subject of my first sample portrait,
below.



  Anne-Marie Barr
Oil on canvas, 36 x 24 inches.

This painting was one of the two samples I took with me on my first visit to Portraits, Incorporated in New York. The subject was a professional model who had posed for the illustration at the top of this page. In fact, I used one of the reference photos I had made for the illustration as the basis for this painting.


  Afternoon Coffee
Oil on canvas, 30 x 21 inches.

I did seven paintings to illustrate A Timeless Place, by Ellen Bromfield Geld, for Reader's Digest Condensed Books. Now that I was studying painting at the Art Students League with Samuel Oppenheim, I tried to put what I was learning into practice in my illustration assignments. Where previously I would have conceived of these pictures as story-telling images, I now tried to create compositions that captured the mood and essence of the book. These paintings are basically portraits.


  Leah and Ben
Oil on canvas, 30 x 21 inches.

My models for this painting were two students at The King's College, located in Briarcliff Manor, New York. I was excited by what I was learning about "lost and found" edges, and the play of light over forms. I remember being particularly excited by the effect of the brilliant "down" lighting falling on these two handsome figures.


  Steve in Uniform
Oil on canvas, 30 x 21 inches.

Another student from The King's College. I didn't try to tell, in my picture, the story of young Steve going away to war. I just tried to capture a sense of the handsome young man, proud in his crisp new uniform, sitting jauntily on a stool in my studio. I lighted the model just as would a portrait subject. I was tremendously excited by the new possibilities that I was discovering in painting.


  Jap and the Governor
Oil on canvas, 30 x 21 inches.

These two figures were painted from professional models. The figure of the "governor" on the left was posed deliberately to emulate a portrait pose I had seen in a book. Can you imagine my excitement when I discovered later this year that I could make five times as much painting portraits as I did painting these illustration jobs?

 


was now painting on Tuesday evenings in Mr. Oppenheim's studio, and on Friday evenings in his class at the Art Students League. I was tremendously excited by what I was learning about painting, and I began to apply the principles to my illustration assignments. My art directors seemed to be pleased, and encouraged me. My illustrations were now being conceived as paintings - as portraits, really - and I applied to them the principles I was learning about edges, lighting, tone and color.

I had three main clients: Reader's Digest, Brown & Bigelow (the big calendar publishers in Saint Paul, Minnesota) and Billy Graham (who was still giving me illustration assignments in his magazine and advertising work for his films). I tried to use these illustration jobs as the opportunity to create fine art paintings. My first big opportunity was when Reader's Digest assigned to me a book in its series of Reader's Digest Condensed Books.

The book was A Timeless Place by Ellen Bromfield Geld. I was to create seven paintings, and I conceived each one as if it were a portrait assignment. I lighted and posed my models as if I were painting their portraits, and tried to stress in each picture the principles I was learning about "lost and found" edges and flowing brushwork.

Before I met Mr. Oppenheim, all of my work had been based on careful technique in which all the edges (the point at which two forms meet) were rendered with clarity and precision. Now I was eager to use a variety of edge treatments to create focus, movement and depth in the composition.

In the large illustration at the beginning of this chapter a number of the exotic characters from the story are brought together in a drawing room setting. Of course you can see immediately that my composition is reminiscent of Sargent's Boit Children. I later used one of these figures, the young woman at the extreme left, as the subject of my first portrait sample, which I would show to Portraits, Incorporated (read the full story of this in the chapter "My First Commissioned Portrait.")

The picture of the backwoods family ("Linus and His Children") gave me a chance to put into use what I was learning effects of light falling on the human face and form. I used neighbor children, wearing their most decrepit clothes, as my models. As I look at this painting now, some three decades later, I recognize in it perhaps some of the very best brushwork I've ever achieved. There is a freedom and directness in this painting that I have found difficult to sustain in my commissioned portraits.

One of Mr. Oppenheim's most emphasized principles was that the color should flow throughout the painting, moving from one surface to another. The coloration of one form should feed into the adjacent forms, with wet, flowing brushstrokes serving as the bridge between forms. Perhaps the painting reproduced here of the two boys in the attic (below) best illustrates my attempt to utilize this principle. Previously in my work, the significance of edges had never been important to me. Now I saw it as paramount. Look again at the two boys in the attic. The boy on the left is holding a blanket which falls to the floor in the left portion of the picture. The light from the attic window falls onto the folds of the blanket, and then flows off onto the boards of the floor. The light thrusting upward from the attic entrance drenches the figures of the boys — and everything else in the attic — with warm yellow light. Here was the Oppenheim "flow principle" realized as fully as I could manage.

I felt that I was now painting, in the full sense of the word. I was excited by the possibilities, and eagerly anticipated each assignment. One job that had followed me from Minneapolis was an annual calendar I painted for the Boy Scouts of America, illustrating each year some activity of the youthful Cub Scouts division of the Scouting program. In Minneapolis, I had painted these Cub Scout subjects in a careful, realistic style reminiscent (I hoped) of the great Norman Rockwell, whom I admired. Now I tried to create images in which the play of light and shade was as important as the narrative story. The picture shown on the opposite page of two Cubs discovering a bird's nest is an example of the new emphasis. I also tried to add drama to my Christmas painting by vigorous brushwork and controlled detail.

These pictures in this chapter may not seem all that exciting to the reader of this book, but I can tell you that I was tremendously exciting when I was painting them. In fact, looking back in retrospect, this period in my development as an artist was perhaps the most important period in my entire career. The lessons of painting were crashing in on me — where in the world had I been all those years? I couldn't wait to get to the studio each morning and get started! Each painting was a source of genuine excitement and challenge.

I confess that the appeal of the financial side was exciting, too. I was working for peanuts — my average illustration job netted about $400, and my expenses, since coming to New York, had risen significantly. I need a bigger income, particularly when we found out that we had a baby on the way! I already had heard of the huge fees that the portrait artists were getting. So I worked as hard as I could, and made my plans for my foray into the big leagues of portrait painting.

Linus and His Children
Oil on canvas, 30 x 21 inches.

In retrospect, I believe that this is one of the very best paintings I've ever done. The models for the children were neighbor kids around my studio in Pleasantville, New York. The figure of Linus was modeled by a young man who lived in the neighborhood who came for the sitting wearing, at my request, his most disreputable clothing. He had the battered old hat, but I had to invent the beard.

  In the Attic
Oil on canvas, 30 x 21 inches.

I went to a historic museum in Ossining, New York and asked permission to use the attic in the museum's old Victorian house as the setting for this picture. The boys were two neighborhood friends. Looking at this painting after thirty years, I can't remember what the boys were supposed to be looking down at. But I certainly can recall my excitement at getting the effect of that warm yellow glow flowing up out of the hatch onto all the forms in the attic.



Journey to Bethlehem
Oil on canvas, 36 x 32 inches.
Decision Magazine


This painting was commissioned by Decision Magazine for their Christmas issue in 1971. I was living in New York, where you can find literally anything. I located this donkey at a rental agency for theatrical animals on West 47th Street. The donkey was a veteran actor, I was assured, and had appeared many times on Broadway and at the Metropolitan Opera. I arranged for a one-hour rental, but it didn't take that long. They walked the donkey out into the sunshine, and I photographed there right in the street, dodging taxis and trucks while we worked.

The Nest
Oil on canvas, 30 x 20 inches.




Boy Scouts of America Each year I was asked to create a painting for the Boy Scouts of America, illustrating some activity of their Cub Scouts division. This year I elected to show two young Cubs on a birdwatching expedition. Where I had previously painted these Cub Scout pictures in a pseudo- Norman Rockwell style, I now tried to make genuine paintings of them, with an emphasis on the effects of light and shade.

  "Go to Church" Calendar Painting
Oil on canvas, 42 x 32 inches.
Brown & Bigelow Company


I used students from the King's College as my models, and the setting is Grace Church in lower Manhattan. My backgrounds are becoming almost abstract as I attempt to capture the essence of a scene, rather than to render every detail with precision. These pictures may not convey the feeling, but I can tell you that this was a very exciting time for me as I "discovered" painting.

"Go to Church" Calendar Painting
Oil on canvas, 36 x 28 inches.
Brown & Bigelow Company


Each year for a number of years I was asked to create a painting for Brown & Bigelow's "Go to Church" calendar. I really enjoyed this assignment. I am amazed that the art director allowed me the great freedom to introduce my new painting style into this series. Originally I had painted these pictures in a tight style I hoped would remind people of Norman Rockwell. Now I was painting freely, trying to impart the "atmosphere" of the scene, such as this family group worshipping in church. The models were New York professionals.

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