Mr. Stripey

 

9/1/26 Neocolor II on UglyPads paper

Once again, my friend Alice generously shared her garden’s bounty. I think she picks out the prettiest produce just for me because she knows I will want to sketch it! Last week she gave me Mr. Stripey (the actual name of the variety), a humongous tomato that was so sweet, he almost tasted like he was sugared. I guess I’m going to have to stop eating tomatoes until next summer because anything I eat after that one would be a letdown.

Before Mr. Stripey became salad and caprese, however, he had to sit for me. It was an opportunity to try an idea I had been thinking about: using Caran d’Ache Neocolor II crayons on UglyPads colored paper. I had hoped that the Neo IIs would be opaque enough to cover the paper, and the bright teal blue would sparkle through as an “underpainting.” I had to work harder and longer than I expected to get the coverage I wanted, but the result is exactly what I had hoped for with an oil pastel-like effect. After applying many layers of Neocolor II, I used a dry-ish waterbrush to very sparingly activate some areas. I avoided activating too much because I didn’t want to obscure the underpainting. (I also know UglyPads paper can’t take too much water.)

Once to sketch and once to eat: Thank you, Alice, for the double gift!

I've long suspected that my scanner is no longer picking up some colors accurately. This image from my phone's camera captures the teal blue much better (though not exactly) than the scan at top of page. Hmm... maybe it's time to get a new scanner.

As Big as a Pumpkin

 

9/26/22 Caran d'Ache Museum Aquarelle pencils on Canson XL 140 lb. paper

Alice, our friend and neighbor, has done it again. Sometimes it’s plums, sometimes it’s tomatoes, but whatever comes from her garden is amazingly delicious as well as gorgeous. This year one of her tomatoes was the size of a pumpkin! She was about to hand it to me when I admired the equally beautiful chili peppers on her kitchen counter, especially one with both red and green streaks. She knows we don’t eat hot peppers, but she offered to lend me a few to sketch, which I happily accepted. I gave them back as soon as I finished the sketch, but you can bet we kept and enjoyed the tomatoes she gave us.

 And how about that – an ideal still life for a secondary triad! Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelle Vermillion (060) is closer to red than to orange, so I included Golden Yellow (020) to the palette to warm it up. The other two colors were Light Olive (245) (possibly my most-often used green for foliage) and Periwinkle Blue (131).

I wanted to show a photo of that tomato next to the pencils
so you can see how huge it is!

Believe it or not, I was trying to be looser and more painterly than I have been with some tomato still lives and get away from the botanical study look, but that’s always a challenge for me. At least I did not carefully draw each one of those highlights as I often have. Instead, I roughly marked where they were on each piece, applied the first layers of color, and then activated without trying to “draw” too much with the brush.

The other challenge was the purple plate. After finishing most of the sketch, I left the plate for the next day so I could think about what to do with it. Drawing it to the same degree of realism as the produce would detract, I thought, and I’ve been disappointed when I’ve done that in other still lives. This time, I tried leaving the plate “sketchy” and unfinished looking. I’m not sure about this look either, but I do like the interesting gray shadow I got by mixing the green and violet.

Review: Arrtx Colored Pencils

Bunnies!

I have been disappointed so many times that I have become skeptical and even cynical about all inexpensive and most mid-range colored pencils on the market, and even some not-so-inexpensive ones. Such was the case when a set of Arrtx Colored Pencils, apparently a relatively new product, crossed my radar. Ho-hum, yet another likely mediocre set of colored pencils, “fine and creamy artist grade pigment,” ya-da, ya-da, whatever – wait! Bunnies??! Bunnies on the box! [Add to cart.] We product reviewers all have our weaknesses.

I was not familiar with the Arrtx name before I spotted these pencils, but the Chinese company offers a range of art materials such as markers and paints and now colored pencils.

At the risk of revealing a pattern of being seduced by packaging, let’s begin with the Arrtx box. Once I got over the bunnies (really – how many colored pencils do you find with bunnies on the box??), the other feature of the package that excited me was its stand-up design. It’s so much more practical and space-saving compared to the wide, flat tins that most large sets of pencils come in. When they come in flat trays, I always transfer them to a vase for use, so I thought this bunny-enhanced box would offer a slim yet practical alternative.

Space-saving and convenient stand-up box.

When all the pencils are in place, they look like this.

Unfortunately, the foam insert that keeps the pencils upright has a major design flaw: Instead of an individual slot for each pencil (see my review of the Karst Woodless Colored Pencil for an excellent example of this), the insert simply keeps the four rows of pencils from running into each other – while they are all sitting quietly in the box. As soon as one is removed, the other pencils collapse around it. Replacing the pencil requires rooting around for space. It’s hardly better than a vase. So much potential poorly executed.

The foam insert doesn't support individual pencils.

After pulling out several pencils, this is what happens.

Nonetheless, the pencils themselves are nicely lacquered the full length of the round barrel. Along with decorative stars, both the color number and name are printed in tiny, reflective metallic silver letters (which is sparkly but difficult to read for these aging eyes). All cores are well-centered, and the wood sharpens beautifully. Bonus: When I opened the box, I instantly got a faint whiff of the delicious licorice scent I usually get from Prismacolors! Perhaps one of the binding ingredients is the same.)

If a smaller set had been available, I would have bought it, but 72 colors was the only set I could find. For such a large set, the palette is unusual and somewhat redundant. It has a disproportionately large number of yellow-oranges, several of which are close in hue, and not as many greens as I would like to see in a set of 72. I could take out half the pencils and be left with a solid set of 36 good colors. No claims are made about their lightfastness, and I would not expect them to be artist grade for the price.

My initial swatches indicated that Arrtx pencils are neither super-soft nor hard, so they occupy that vast middle of the road which is already over-crowded with many, many colored pencils. I have clear uses for both soft and hard pencils, but pencils that are neither here nor there leave me little to get excited about. Arrtx pencils, however, produce almost no dusty particles – that’s a pleasant surprise.

Typically, I make a simple still life as my initial test sketch, but composition and color temperature studies have been on my mind lately, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one pencil. Picking out a secondary triad from the Arrtx palette, I found that these pencils have a higher pigment content than I would have expected. On the soft/hard scale, they remind me of Caran d’Ache Pablo, which are also in that mushy middle of the road – yet Pablos produce more dust. Although my sketch of houses has only a few small areas of intense color, the layering ability felt promising. My cynicism was turning to optimism.

5/11/22 Arrtx colored pencils in Stillman & Birn Zeta sketchbook

Happy with that sketch through the window, I grabbed the last uncooked or uneaten piece of produce in the house (a danger of sketching right before shopping) – a firm, truck-ripened tomato (farmers market season can’t come soon enough). For this sketch, I chose three hues that come closest to my model Prismacolor CMYK triad (True Blue, Process Red and Canary Yellow). Despite the number of off-yellows and yellow-oranges in the set, only Light Yellow (1012) is a true yellow, which is a definite weakness in the palette.

5/12/22 Arrtx colored pencils in Stillman & Birn Zeta sketchbook

To my huge surprise, Arrtx pencils are a delight to use! Layered smoothly and effortlessly, that’s a lot of pigment I piled onto the tomato. Arrtx is easily better than many others in its price range (and some that are nearly triple the price). The set is an excellent value, even considering some redundant colors. The stand-up box is a disappointment, but with bunnies, it’s a wash. More important, the set has restored my faith that high-quality colored pencils can be found at a reasonable price.

(Incidentally, my recent interest in and study of color temperature made me approach this tomato sketch in a different way compared to all the other simple still lives I’ve made as pencil test sketches. I don’t know if it shows in the result, but I feel the difference in how I see and use color temperature now.)

Making Botanical Drawings Like Urban Sketches

11/3/21 Derwent Lightfast pencils on Stonehenge
hot press paper

Here’s the finished drawing of the Japanese ornamental cherry leaf that I began in Crystal Shin’s workshop. During the six-and-a-half hours that I worked on it, I had a lot of time to think about the process for making this type of botanical drawing. Although most traditional botanical artists begin by drawing their specimens from direct observation, they necessarily finish the drawings from photos because their painstakingly detailed and intricate work can take many (50, 100 or more) hours to complete.

As Crystal had recommended, I took plenty of reference photos while my leaf was still fresh from the wet pavement last Friday on our first respite after days of deluge. Even by the workshop’s second day, I could see that my leaf’s edges were starting to curl, and its colors didn’t look quite as vibrant. I had to make a choice: Finish the drawing using the reference photos, or continue drawing from the actual leaf – even as it continued withering.

I recalled the peony I had drawn last summer in Kathleen Moore’s class. In my warm, sunny studio, my poor peony had visibly drooped and wilted even as I was drawing it, and by the second day, it fell apart completely. That time, too, I had the choice of continuing to work from a photograph, but if I had, I think I might have beaten the life out of it. It was done enough that it looked finished without losing its freshness. The collapsed blossom had saved me from overworking the drawing.

I also thought about the last tomatoes we received from Alice. During the four days that I took to draw them, the tomatoes had continued to ripen, and by the end, their colors were completely different from when I began. I drew one tomato each day based on whatever color it was that day. By the time I finished, the completed drawing resembled neither the actual tomatoes nor a photograph taken on any given day.

Although I understand why traditional botanical artists must depend on photo references for the type of work they do, the problem with using photos is that one could then continue working on a drawing forever (literally). As I noticed my leaf changing, I started looking at it the way I approach urban sketching: Cars and people come and go; the light shifts; clouds pass over the sun. Everything changes constantly. The pressure but also the sheer fun of urban sketching is keeping up with the pace of the scene I’m trying to capture.

You’ve probably guessed by now that I decided to make my leaf drawing entirely from life. I did feel a pressure to finish in fewer days than I may have otherwise, but I enjoyed that pressure and its inherent challenge. I enjoyed keeping up with whatever changes the leaf would continue to show. And I was happy and relieved that I had reached an acceptable state of “doneness” in six-and-a-half hours. Certainly, I could have continued – but not without the risk of overworking it and not necessarily improving it.

This peony saved me from overworking my drawing.

There are many reasons why I wouldn’t want to spend 50 or a hundred hours on a single drawing of a leaf, not the least of which is that I’d be afraid of beating the life out of it. As I completed this class exercise, I felt a renewed joy in botanical drawing. It doesn’t have to be something I labor over for weeks. I felt liberated knowing that I can approach an ornamental cherry leaf plucked from the pavement in the same way that I approach any neighborhood scene or the houses across the street. My hope is that my drawings are more likely to be a fresh response to what I’m seeing, just as urban sketching is.

Technical notes: Now that you can see the finished drawing, I’ll mention the high points and challenges I had. In general, I’m happy with the result, especially the curling edge at lower right and the overall palette. The upper part of the leaf, however, was not what I intended. The tip was curling forward, casting a soft shadow on the leaf’s top half. Working hard to convey that curving form, I think my result looks more like the top half of the leaf’s local color was brown.

At this point, I don’t know if it can be corrected because not much more pigment can be applied in that area; I’ve already worked the paper pretty hard with lots of layers. But since Crystal offered to provide feedback after we had finished our drawings, I have submitted mine with that question. If she makes a suggestion that is still workable at this point, I might try to fix it. Or maybe, like so many urban sketches that don’t go as planned, I’ll leave it alone and use her advice on the next one.

I used some techniques from the workshop that were new to me or that I typically don’t employ:

For the central vein, I incised the paper with an embossing stylus, then colored the incised line afterwards. Incising the paper prevents the pencil pigment from being applied to the line, which remains paper white until it is colored later. I’ve used this technique in other classes, but I usually don’t remember to otherwise. I also didn’t have proper embossing tools until this workshop, as Crystal highly recommends them. I got five for six bucks on Amazon.

One hidden benefit of this technique is that the incised line stops the pencil tip from crossing over and blurring a drawn line. For all other veins, I simply drew them, and they became a bit blurry as my pencil tip coloring around them bumped into them. The incised line remains crisp and sharp. (Note: It’s difficult to draw a fine line over an area where many layers of pigment have already been applied. If a vein line is not being incised, Crystal recommends drawing it early and continuing to darken it as needed.)

As I’ve heard many drawing instructors and authors say, Crystal reminded us that nothing in reality has an outline around it. To avoid a hard outline around the leaf, I gently “pulled” color away from the edge with tiny, curved pencil strokes as she had demonstrated. The result is softer than a drawn outline.

One aspect of color that I have become fascinated with since I started studying CMYK-based primary triads is optical mixing: Instead of blending like liquid paints, dry colored pencils depend on multiple transparent layers to appear mixed (similar to glazed watercolors). Crystal showed us examples from other artists who take advantage of optical mixing principles in their work by leaving more space between pencil strokes rather than blending thoroughly. I tried to emulate them, but it’s not really apparent in my leaf. I’m going to keep working on that.

Tomato Ponderings

 

10/28/21 Sketched with vintage Derwent colored pencils in Stillman & Birn
Zeta sketchbook

Our seemingly endless “atmospheric river” and “moisture firehose” last week invited introspection and existential questions. If you’re a geek like I am, the questions to contemplate included the following: What happened to Derwent’s colored pencil quality?

Although I very much enjoy using high-quality Derwent Lightfast pencils, my love is by no means across the board. In addition to the disappointing Chromaflow line, the company’s Procolour, Coloursoft and Inktense collections are passable but nothing to write home about. The older Artist and Studio lines are not even worth mentioning.

Due to the generosity of a couple of women who know I collect and appreciate vintage pencils, I am enjoying some old Derwent colored pencils that are far superior to most of its current products. A few years ago I showed you my lovely set of Rexel Cumberland Derwent colored pencils that Ana gave me, which I think are from the ‘80s or ‘90s. Then in 2019 during the Amsterdam Urban Sketchers Symposium, Jane Blundell gave me a handful of pencils that a family member had used in the ‘50s. Even considering their age, the pigment content is higher and the cores are of better quality than most of Derwent’s current offerings.

The oldest Rexel Cumberland Derwent pencils in my collection (gift of Jane Blundell)

Other Rexel Cumberland Derwent pencils, probably from the '80s or '90s (gift of Ana Reinert)

In my experience, although vintage pencils are often more esthetically pleasing than contemporary ones, the quality of almost all colored pencils produced by a given company have improved over time (at least when they keep manufacturing in-house). I attribute this to better materials and maybe improved equipment and processes, too.

Derwent has a long, proud heritage of pencil production dating back to 1832. According to the British company, most of their pencils are still made in the UK. Why, then, hasn’t it taken better care of quality?

And so I pondered as I sketched this tomato on yet another rainy day.

The magenta and warmer yellow are from the newer set; the cooler yellow and blue are from the older Derwents. They blend beautifully with a high pigment content.

Tomatoes on the Vine (and My Polychromos Renaissance)

 

9/30/21 heirloom tomatoes (Polychromos pencils on Stonehenge hot press paper)

Our friend Alice spoiled us again: Hearing about the heavy rain forecast, she quickly harvested her remaining tomatoes, and we were lucky recipients of a generous bagful. I was especially thrilled to get several still on the vine – instant still life! The rain arrived as steadily as predicted, giving me an ideal opportunity to draw them.

Day 3: A tomato a day keeps the rainy-day blahs away.

Process notes: I don’t usually enjoy spending more than one sitting on a single drawing, but this time the conditions were ideal. I worked on this for four consecutive days, an hour or two per day. What surprised me about this longer process was nothing more than natural: The tomatoes ripened, and their colors changed continually! The green one on the right changed the most (see photo series below). Fortunately, I work from right to left, so I finished the green one first before it turned. Each day I colored a tomato based on whatever it looked like that day.

In addition, somewhere along the way, I inadvertently jostled the arrangement. Since the tomatoes were all connected by the same vine, I thought they would be easy to put back into place, but somehow I couldn’t get them back into their original positions.

The result is that my drawing “ripened” along with the tomatoes, and the final drawing resembles neither the actual fruits nor a photograph taken on any given day. Something about this process tickled me: It felt like urban sketching, when I have to adjust to and accommodate rapidly changing conditions like sunlight or wind or rain (though I admit I have never made an urban sketch over the course of four days).

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Technical notes: Ever since early summer, I have been using Prismacolors more than ever, influenced by instructor Kathleen Moore. It was my first solid use of Prismacolors, and the more I used them, the more I appreciated the rich hues possible with them. For this drawing of the tomatoes, however, I made a switch – back to my beloved Faber-Castell Polychromos. This was partly a whim but also influenced by my paper choice, Legion Stonehenge hot press. Although I’ve made a couple of location sketches with watercolor pencils on this paper, which is the smoothest of the Stonehenge papers I’ve tried, I wanted to give it a shot with traditional colored pencils in the studio to see how it takes multiple layered applications. Compared to Strathmore Bristol Smooth and other drawing papers, Stonehenge hot press has a noticeable but fine tooth. It seemed ideal for Polychromos, which is much harder than Prismacolor.

Legion Stonehenge Aqua Hotpress

I’m having a Polychromos renaissance! Day after day as I worked on the tomatoes, I marveled at how much pigment I could keep applying, layer after layer. It felt like I could have kept going forever. (The single worst characteristic of low-quality colored pencils is that it becomes increasingly difficult to apply more pigment. Yech.) Not that Prismacolors can’t do this – they can – but Polychromos’ harder core sharpens up so beautifully and stays sharp for much longer. I find it easier to apply consistent layers with Polychromos. And being able to keep a fine, sharp point makes tiny details a snap. I fell in love all over again with these fabulous pencils.

To my delight, Polychromos and Stonehenge hot press turned out to be a perfect partnership. Polychromos’ hard core got into the paper’s fine tooth, yet the result still has enough texture to look natural.

It doesn’t happen often, but in this case, it did: The subject, the weather, the prolonged process and the materials all conspired in my favor.

I heart Polychromos

Review: Marco Tribute Masters Collection

 

The Marco Tribute Masters Collection

I hope your blood sugar level is stable . . . get ready for some eye candy!

Unless a box is really special, you know that my reviews don’t spend much time on colored pencil packaging; I like to focus on the product. Fair warning: The product I’m reviewing is almost all about the packaging – the Marco Tribute Masters Collection. And it is one of the most beautiful presentations of colored pencils I have ever seen!

The collection includes eight slipcased boxes, each color-themed selection devoted to a modern art master. According to the card inside each box, “Marco selects eight legendary artists in modern art and leverages their masterpieces as inspirations to create ‘Tribute Master Collection.’ May your ideas fly together with inspiration from the masters.”

Ribbon tabs make it easy to pull the boxes out from their slipcase.

The book-like boxes remind me of Tombow’s Irojiten set, which I also love for its elegant beauty. I must say, however, that Marco does Tombow one better: Instead of an elastic band to hold the box closed, each Marco box has a magnetic closure that snaps securely shut with a satisfying click.

Inside the box lid is a brief statement about the artist’s life. On the back is a quotation by the artist.

Each box of 10 pencils holds tints, shades and saturations of one or two hues. For example, Monet’s box includes pinks and violets, while Cezanne’s has shades of blue and blue-green. Here’s where I think the designers could have tried harder (and would certainly have had more fun) to make each box evoke a particular master’s palette, not just shades of one hue. Surely Van Gogh’s box would have included yellows as well as blues? Still, it’s immensely visually pleasing to see harmonious tones arranged together. 

Monet box

Monet pencils

Several years ago when I first got a set of Marco Renoir Fine Art colored pencils (I can’t find the set of 72 I got on Amazon, but this link goes to the 100-color set), I did some research to learn more about these pencils. Apparently Chinese manufacturer Marco also produces pencils for other brands, and the Marco Renoir set is identical to a set sold by Dutch art supply company Royal Talens/Bruynzeel (which is owned by the Japanese company Sakura).

Comparing the pencils in the Tribute Masters Collection to those in my Marco Renoir set, I saw that the pencils are identical in every way except the barrel appearance. When I compared swatches, the cores that were duplicated were identical. It’s also worth noting the price difference: I paid about $40 for my Marco Renoir set of 72 several years ago; the Tribute Masters set is about $90 for 80 pencils.

Top: Marco Renoir; below: Marco Tribute Masters Collection

Barrel size is the same for both (it's an optical
illusion that the Tribute Masters pencil on top
looks larger)

Marco Renoir and Tribute Masters cores 
are identical.

I redid the swatch for 25 because the tip had traces of another color when I made the first one.

Lest you think that all I am doing is drooling over the packaging, I did, in fact, make a sketch (of an unusual San Marzano Radosta variety of heirloom tomato that looks just like a pepper). Like the Marco Renoir set, the Tribute Masters pencils are neither stellar nor terrible; instead, they fall into that vast middle area of pretty-good/not-bad colored pencils that are neither soft nor hard. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but who cares when the packaging is this unique and distinctive?

7/20/21 Marco Tribute Masters colored pencils in Stillman & Birn Epsilon sketchbook

Here’s the rest of the candy!

Matisse box

Matisse pencils

Degas box

Degas pencils

Klimt box

Klimt pencils

The back of each box includes a quotation by the artist. This one by Klimt is my favorite in the collection: "There is always hope as long as the canvases are empty."

Renoir box

Renoir pencils

Cezanne box

Cezanne pencils

Van Gogh box

Van Gogh pencils

Escher box

Escher pencils

A gift bag was included with the set! If you have a loved one who is a colored pencil geek, I recommend this gift!