I’m adding this image to my collection of snail images from the Middle Ages:
I’m adding this image to my collection of snail images from the Middle Ages:
An owl shows itself. With one of those flaming S Cal sunsets that I forgot about, I’m already in awe; then this quite large bird, powerful, full-feathered wings not a seagull, but whitish, comes swooping down and lands in a tree long enough for us (that is Nikki & me) to see the large dark eyes in the moon face. No mistaking it, an owl, not even a small one, either!
It very much resembled this owl, apparently in decline. Well, thanks for showing yourself, lovely owlie!
Kelly Williams is offering the 3-week course The Medieval Comic Book: Illustrated Stories in Illuminated Manuscripts. You’ll get first-rate art instruction that begins with a lecture and hands-on demo, then is held on site
for two meetings at the Getty, then finally in a studio class held work with the materials and techniques in a studio class held at 1010 Westwood where students work with the materials and techniques. One unit of arts credit can be earned. The class costs $195.
I took a similar version of this course last summer. Kelly Williams is an excellent instructor, with expertise on a subject rarely taught in this format. A huge bonus is getting to use (and bring home the leftover) authentic pigments like lapiz and real gold leaf.
(Estimated supplies cost is $25.) Before manga and movies, decorated books inspired and awed the public by illustrating famous religious and secular tales. This three-part course explores stories in illuminated manuscripts through lecture, discussion, a museum visit, and a studio session. The first class investigates how and why these books were made and includes a hands-on exploration of medieval materials used in their creation. Class two visits the Getty Museum for an extended tour and sketching exercise of the exhibition “Stories to Watch: Narrative in Medieval Manuscripts.” The third session is a studio class, where students use manuscript templates to create their own illuminated page. Internet access required to retrieve course materials.
Westwood: 415 1010 Westwood Center
Los Angeles: Getty Center
Westwood: 321 1010 Westwood Center
3 meetings total
Another post about medieval art you might enjoy:
By Kurt Ulrich
Thirst does not believe in what
might cure and thus
destroy it. Thirst
concocts a dream of the ocean
dry as a bone, but
full as ever; and my bridges
never completely burn—thirst
prevents them from this,
gathers force with its elongated
figures of an evening
such as the talk with
El Greco inspired. Imagine
you had managed a meeting
with the utmost more
grace than you had expected:
the guests would never leave or they’d
seem to be hiding,
to have gone so quickly they would
seem either never to have gone,
never to have really arrived,
or to always have been, or
be yet to come.
Rafters of a type we’re less
than only a little
accustomed to, and devised
under the ice-blue
lights of an ordinarily
for rote good humor, seem,
scaled, sturdier by
far than when, straining our
backs in order to
see them in relation to the
drapes and decorations
our usual homes entail, they
did little more than trace
the arc of the heavens; did
little more than the grass
might flow, that is; and
held no home away from
what is perhaps richer, graver,
more deliberate and thrilling
an environ, but which should
be sampled by and by, as befits
an entire neighborhood, and not
in such a manner as would
keep us from sleep, too immune
to a kingdom divided
from our fondest dream.
Today it’s that there’s not
really enough for us to merit
that splendid regard
of the luminous—were
there enough we’d be
probably much worse off than where
the whole thing stews today: under
something dark and crisp and
electric, cold, and heedless. I
have sanctioned these poems
exude charm, but nothing distracting,
nothing visual, expected or
cooperatively italicized. Clouds
are suggestive and familiar, and
find us at least most of the time
on our way to the building
in the rare clear city, tears
in our eyes as we continue to
expend our sway inappropriately,
toward the darling little flowers
who travel in schools, and toward
the women happily married, or so
they thought. Blush of clarity, tolerant
impossible private hue, our passions are
only and all for you, but then
you’re gone and the day turns
sunny, damn it, everything’s
easy to understand, everything
tags along after us, asking us
what to do, and paying us
a compliment full of deadlines
as good as a threat, while our children
turn pale as clouds, as you.
Last week I took a 3-hour workshop with Zhenya Gershman at the Getty Center. I signed up for the class because I wanted to develop more facility with the drawing of drapery. My miniature illustrations, such as Media and Melancholy and Bipolar Depression and Family Support, contain figures wearing heavy robes. I plan to continue using historical costume in my paintings, so mastering the “ins and outs” of drapery is important to me.
I expected the class to be useful but not necessarily fabulous. I didn’t bother to review the instructor’s credentials, so I was delighted to find out that ZG is not only a master teacher, but a child prodigy, having received artistic acclaim in her native Russia from the age of 10!
Zhenya introduced herself individually to each student before the class started. More teachers should do this; it establishes trust early and builds student confidence. Z projects tremendous energy and enthusiasm. Her lecture with images was deceptively breezy; to present so much content so clearly requires much research and preparation. The handouts were first-rate, concise yet suitable for beginner or advanced student. A lot to take away for a 3-hour workshop!
I’m taking the “warts and all” approach and revealing my class drawings here. The first was from Z’s visual description and not from looking at the drapery:
I’m comfortable looking at things and sketching them, but not necessarily with drawing something from memory. So the result looks a little stereotypical, but I applied the idea of tension points that Z presented. Note the point where the folds start to cascade.
Being more comfortable with looking and drawing at the same time, I came up with Sketch 2, based on fabric pinned to a form:
While we were sketching, Zhenya presented the idea of the “eye” of the fold, which was new to me. This is where “the fold is formed when pressure pushes material out in the center to form a more prominent point. The ‘eye’ is the starting point of all the planes.”*
This sounds technical but it’s easy to see, especially in classical drawings and paintings. You just have to look for it.
Enough with my drawing lesson. Here is the final sketch from a Flemish painting in [the location and artist into to be added later]. We had 45 minutes to work, so I got absorbed and forgot to write down the source.
For upcoming Getty Center short courses for adult learners, go to http://www.getty.edu/visit/calendar/events/Courses.html
*from Zhenya Gershman’s August/October 2010 handout
I like to mix historical and contemporary themes in my own work, and admire Paneva’s designs for taking this approach. Her artful mix of 16th-century imagery and vintage graphics is clever and sophisticated.
Here’s the link to shops across the US and Canada that carry the RosyRenaissance line.
The name hooked me, because I was thinking of creating a character and then making her medieval. “Elizabeth Gearey Gets Medieval” or some such thing. If that ever comes together, well then it may appear in this blog. Or it might not.
Anyway, the fifth Google entry to come up was Got Medieval’s July 20, 2009 post,
The site is full of witty and insightful comments relating medieval European history to contemporary themes. I’m thrilled to finally meet up with some medievalists who share my enthusiasm for 15th-century books!
*The six-week class is offered through UCLA Extension (uclaextension.edu) and begins again in October 2010. If you’re interested, look for course number X440.68, “Illuminated Manuscripts: Patronage and Process” taught by Kelly S. Williams, MA.