The Heirloom Tomato Challenge

6/27/17 Caran d'Ache Pablo colored pencils

When I focus on form and color as I do with the simple still lives I’ve been making, two things stand out as the most challenging aspects for me. (Frankly, all aspects are challenging, but I think most about the hardest ones so they are on my mind.)

One is differentiating between local color – the actual hues I see in the heirloom tomato on my desk – and the hues that occur where the light and shade hit the surface of the tomato. My eye sees (and my brain knows) that the dark side of the tomato has some yellow in it, but if I use too much of the actual yellow I “see” there, that bright, warm hue will bring that side of the tomato forward instead of making it recede, and it will no longer look like it’s the dark back side of the tomato. It’s easy to get confused by local color, so I must constantly repeat the mantra I’ve heard in every art class I’ve taken: To make the results “read” accurately, getting the values right is more important than getting the hues right.

6/28/17 Faber-Castell Polychromos colored pencils

The second struggle is showing the subtle reflection of ambient light on a smooth surface like the skin of a tomato. Since my desktop is matte black, I always put my produce on a sheet of white paper so that it will cast a shadow I can see. But the downside is that the white paper reflects up onto the subject. (Note to self: Get rid of the paper, fake the cast shadow, and lose the paper reflections!) Highlights can be drawn first and saved, but those diffused paper reflections are easy to lose. (The hidden talent of erasers is very helpful when I do lose them.) Actually, strong highlights aren’t that easy, either, because I have too many light sources. My desk lamp creates the intended highlights, which are easy to save because they’re most prominent. But windows on two sides of the room and the overhead lighting also contribute subtle highlights. 

Artistic challenges aside, this particular heirloom tomato was so fantastic in both shape and color that I couldn’t help sketching it twice before it became salad. What an unbelievably crazy form! What gorgeous gradations of color! As much as I love urban sketching, I never see color like that in my ‘hood.

Overworked

2/23/19 Caran d'Ache Museum, Derwent Procolour pencils in Stillman & Birn
Beta sketchbook

Shown here are two sketches of the same heirloom tomato, before and after Greg cut a wedge for his salad. In the first sketch (below), I was trying to take the painterly approach that I’ve been studying lately: using more water and fewer applications of pigment. I don’t like the results at all – the colors are muddy, and it was extremely challenging to paint around all those reflections on the tomato’s lobes when I had a juicy brush that I was trying to move quickly so that the water wouldn’t pool.

A couple of days later, I tried again (above), and the cut surfaces of the tomato presented all new challenges that I’d never encountered before (obviously I need to sketch incomplete tomatoes more often!). Getting the hue of the shaded side of the cut gave me the most difficulty. Although overworked from many cycles of dry-wet/dry-wet watercolor pencil applications to try to get the colors and textures right, I thought that taking the painterly approach worked well on these cut surfaces. Blending colors wet-in-wet looks more convincing than trying to draw the organic color changes with dry pencils or with a more methodical approach.

By the time I got to working on the smooth, uncut surface of the tomato, I had sort of forgotten about practicing more painterly techniques and fell back on the more methodical, multiple-application approach I had learned in class. It was much easier to keep the hues from muddying by using less water. I’m finding I also don’t like the look of a large area of one flat color when activated with water (the tomato’s shadow, as in the sketch below)  – the brush strokes show, no matter how carefully I work. So for the second sketch, I left the shadow unactivated. I prefer the interesting contrast between the smooth tomato and the textured shadow.

2/21/19 Caran d'Ache Museum, Derwent Procolour pencils

One experiment that is working well is using traditional (non-water-soluble) colored pencils for certain lines that I want to retain sharply, such as the ones describing the “cleavages” between the tomato’s lobes. If I draw these with watercolor pencils, I lose them all when I apply water, and then I can’t see them anymore when I need them to guide the highlights. When I draw them with non-soluble pencils, I can still see them through the transparent activated color.

Both sketches were done in a Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook, and I gotta hand it to this paper: It takes everything like a champ. My overworking demanded many sequences of wet/dry, lifting color with a paper towel, and finally erasing back in a few secondary highlights that I lost during the overworking – with an electric eraser! The paper’s surface shows no signs of pilling or other damage.

Ripe (Plus Derwent Inktense Comments)

7/4/17 Caran d'Ache Museum Aquarelles

I hope you’re not tired of seeing my tomato sketches because I’m still not tired of making them. Heirlooms have such beautiful colors and crazy shapes that I am (ahem) drawn to them every time I see them at the grocery store. This one was mostly green when I sketched it last Tuesday, but by the time I sketched it again from roughly the same angle two days later, the orange had deepened and spread to the other side.

My previous tomato sketches were done with traditional colored pencils. For a change, I made these two sketches with water-soluble colored pencils. The top one was done with Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles, which are my favorite for urban sketching and make up the bulk of my daily-carry. Since I’ve been using them consistently for a few years, I’m used to the way they dissolve and how the hues intensify when activated with water, so I had no surprises. They behave predictably and reliably.

7/6/17 Derwent Inktense

The second tomato sketch was done with Derwent Inktense water-soluble pencils. Whenever I talk to people about watercolor pencils, the Inktense line inevitably comes up. I know they are very popular among sketchers, mixed media artists and even fiber artists because they are, as their name would imply, very intense in color. I’ve always felt that I should like them – who doesn’t love intense color? – yet I’ve had difficulty using them in the past. I sometimes reach for them when I need brilliant spots of color on a card I’m making or some such, but for urban sketching or even still lives, they don’t seem to work as well for me.

I hadn’t used them to sketch with in a long time, so I thought this glowing, intensely hued tomato would be a good opportunity to give Inktense another try. Since I’ve been using colored pencils of all kinds more intensively this year, I thought maybe my experience might help me appreciate their qualities more. But the aspects that I’ve had difficulty with in the past still seem to be holding true.

Inktense pencils: What you see on the end cap is not
always what you get.

For one thing, some hues are so intense and bright that they are downright garish, so if I’m going for realism, I have to work hard to tone them down, even with this bright tomato. But even more challenging is that many of the pigments change hues radically once water is applied. I made wet and dry sample swatches of all the pencils I chose, and many times I had to reject pencils that looked good when dry, but as soon as I applied water, they bloomed into unexpected – usually much more unnatural – hues. These issues are exacerbated by the annoying fact that the color on the pencil’s end cap often bears no resemblance to the color of the pencil’s pigment – either wet or dry.

As is true for any art material, if I used Derwent Inktense pencils consistently for a while, I would get to know the hues and remember how they change when wet, so I would no longer be surprised. But with all the other pencils I own, I don’t feel like working that hard to use Inktense. 

Of course, if I make a sketch in which realism is not the goal, then these pencils might be ideal. There’s a place for garish in everyone’s life, so I’m not tossing ‘em yet. 

Cheap Colored Pencil Throwdown: U Brands and Sivo

6/1/17 colored pencils, Stillman & Birn Alpha sketchbook (U Brands on left
tomato, Sivo on right)

A few months ago when I was taking a colored pencil class and trying to sort out my preferences, I wrote an eight-part series of reviews of traditional colored pencils (including an introduction and conclusion). Of the six brands I reviewed, all were either high-end professional artist grade or middle-range of uncertain grade (meaning I couldn’t find information about whether the pigments were archival or otherwise “professional,” though they seem of high quality). Given my penchant for relatively expensive pencils (including my long-time favorite water-soluble colored pencil, the pricey Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles), you might have the impression that I only go for high-end price and quality.

You’d be wrong. While I prefer using colored pencils of high quality, I am not above buying inexpensive, presumed low-quality sets, especially if they come in a cute box or have some other novelty factor that I can’t resist, quality be damned. I always make test swatches to see the colors and feel how the cores apply, and if that testing confirms my suspicions that they are not worth using, I wait until the novelty wears off, and then I give them to some children I know.

Two purchases, however, felt good enough in application that I had to stop and look at them again. The set of U Brands pencils came from Costco – 48 pencils plus sharpener and canvas pouch for $8.79 (I couldn’t find it on Costco’s website, but the link goes to Amazon at a higher price). Hindustan’s Sivo Vivid colored pencils were from Amazon – a set of 36 for about $8. On a recent rainy morning, I thought it would be fun to put these two extremely inexpensive colored pencils head to head.

U Brands have a sense of humor!

What caught my eye about the Philippines-made U Brands pencils is that they have a sense of humor! Who can resist color names such as I Lava You, Not Too Jaded and Water You Up To? (If nothing else, they would be fun to keep by the phone in the kitchen.) They also have a nicely lacquered natural finish with dipped ends where the color names are stamped in silver.

OK, so they’re good for a chuckle, but how do they apply? Relatively soft – which is what made me give them a second look. Somewhat waxy and crayon-like, they don’t produce much dust or crumbs (a pet peeve of mine about soft colored pencils). The colors are surprisingly vivid – more so than some high-priced pencils I’ve tried. Interestingly, the set contains no less than 11 pinks and purples (hmm, I wonder what that says about the intended demographic . . . obviously one that includes me). The cores are disappointingly slender (which is typical of colored pencils intended for kids).

In my tomato sketch, the front (left) tomato was done with U Brands colors R U Red E, Dill With It, Olive You Lots and Atomic Orange (so much more fun than scarlet or dark cadmium orange). They cover the tooth of the Stillman & Birn Alpha paper with only a few layers and are easy to blend.

The factory sharpening on the U Brands pencils was strangely blunt, so I sharpened the ones I was using shortly after I started the sketch – and sadly, that’s where they ran into trouble. The wood would not sharpen cleanly with any of the portable hand sharpeners I usually use with colored pencils, and the core broke on two of them before I could get them sharp. I had the same mess in my electric Westcott iPoint Orbit. I got much better results with the sharpener that came with the set, but one core broke even with that. One sharpened to a nice point, but when I started to use it, the core snapped off inside the wood, as if it were already broken. Since most colored pencils I’ve used at any price point sharpen acceptably, it’s a deal breaker that these don’t. A pity – they have such nice soft cores (not to mention a sense of humor).

Plenty of pink in the Sivo Vivid set

India-made Sivo Vivid pencils are not as soft as U Brands, but they still have enough softness (with no dust at all) that I wanted to give them a try. The cores are more than 3mm in thickness, which is as thick as most of my “artist grade” pencils. In the sketch, I used the Sivo Vivid pencils on the right-side tomato. I used mainly three colors (no names or numbers on the pencils at all) – red, orange and dark green – but I wish there was something closer to olive (I added touches of yellow instead). With a wide range of pinks and lavenders for a set of 36 (hmmm, I’m seeing a trend), the set has a comparatively narrow range of greens, and the hues aren’t quite as vivid as the U Brands.

Since they are slightly harder than the U Brands, coverage of the Alpha tooth took a little more work. More significantly, they sharpen beautifully, both wood and core, with handheld sharpeners as well as the electric. (I’ve used several very inexpensive India-made graphite pencils of excellent writing quality and that sharpen beautifully, so I was hoping that these Sivo pencils would also sharpen well.)

I wouldn’t count on the pigments in either of these brands to be lightfast or “archival” (but let’s be honest – I’m not hanging any of my tomato still lifes in the Louvre, so archival quality is not a priority). While I probably wouldn’t choose either as my go-to colored pencil, I’d definitely pick the Sivo Vivid set over the U Brands for casual sketching (though the color range is limited).

As for the humorous U Brands, they are going in the kitchen for when I need a giggle.

Edited 12/23/24: I have a new favorite in the ultra-inexpensive category: iBayam colored pencils.

Left: U Brands; right: Sivo Vivid

Painterly Lessons

2/13/19 Caran d'Ache Supracolor pencils (all sketches in Stillman & Birn Beta)

In my efforts to practice a more painterly approach to using watercolor pencils, I’ve learned a few things that weren’t as apparent to me when I took a more pencil-ly approach (for lack of a better term).

For one thing, to take a painterly approach, it’s vital that the pencils contain a generous amount of pigment. When using them dry or in a series of dry-wet/dry-wet applications (the method I learned in Suzanne’s class), pencils can contain a mediocre level of pigment and still produce acceptable results because more layers can be applied. But after applying a wetter brush load of water, it’s more difficult to continue applying many more layers of dry pigment, so the initial application had better be fairly heavy. This approach suits me fine, as it’s what I’m used to when out in the field: I like to apply as much pigment as possible in one shot and activate only once.

 

2/11/19 Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer

(Irony: In an effort to make my still lives more like urban sketching, I’m applying techniques that I already know from urban sketching to my still lives. Maybe I’m not really teaching myself anything new – maybe I’m just tricking myself into believing apples and bananas are buildings and trees!)

Another thing I’m learning is to blend and mix colors in a more painterly way. In the sketch below of a tomato and garlic, I had chosen complementary blue for the shadow cast by the garlic on the tomato, which seemed mostly orange when I colored it. When I activated the blue, though, I saw that the shadow had turned out too green because the tomato contained more yellow than I realized. It also wasn’t dark enough. I made a few test swatches, and I saw that applying more blue over that yellow/orange/blue combo would not improve the shadow color.

Trying to think like a painter in this situation, I considered adding red to the mix – the complement of green. Red pencil applied dry looked strange, but when activated, the resulting brown, though muddier than I prefer, was an acceptable shadow in that it was the right value. I don’t know how painterly the result looks, but since I had to think like a painter to achieve it, I still consider it a painterly approach.

In progress -- I didn't like the green shadow cast by the garlic onto the tomato.

2/16/19 Caran d'Ache Museum Aquarelle

Product Review: Blackwing Colors

Box of 12 Blackwing Colors colored pencils

About a year ago when Blackwing released Colors, I had mixed feelings. Part of me was thrilled that the well-known graphite pencil manufacturer had finally come out with a set of colored pencils. I’d been a fan of the original, soft-core graphite Blackwing for several years, and I knew it was a very high-quality pencil, so any colored pencil bearing the Blackwing logo was likely to be good.

Another part of me, though, was skeptical. Whenever I see a boxed set of 12 colored pencils and no larger sets or open stock, I smell “novelty colored pencils,” which are not known to be of high quality (and I know this because I have purchased more than my share of such sets! I’m a sucker for a clever gimmick or cute packaging!). Blackwing has a very loyal (some would say cultish) following; would the company put out colored pencils just to jump on the burgeoning adult coloring book bandwagon? I brooded for all of two seconds before buying a box of Blackwing Colors.

Speaking of the box, I don’t usually talk about the packaging of colored pencils I review because most of them come in standard flat tins. The Blackwing Colors box, however, bears mentioning. It’s a matte black cardboard box, and the front has a window. When you open the windowed “door,” the pencils are protected by a transparent plastic cover. Unfortunately, the plastic cover has to be discarded, or the pencils are cumbersome to use, but otherwise it all looks very cool when you first open the set (they are Blackwing, after all). And the “door” snaps shut with a magnetic closure!

The windowed door closes magnetically.

Swatching the 12 colors, I was pleased by how soft the wax-based cores are. (A hallmark of novelty pencils is dry, hard cores.) As soft as Caran d’Ache Pablo (but not as soft as Luminance), they glide on pleasantly without producing crumbs. I’ve been sharpening them in my electric Bostitch with no problem at all.

Because of their softness, it took me longer than usual to build up color in my sketch of the heirloom tomato. (Yes, that’s the same tomato you saw twice earlier this week! I deferred my salad one more day because I just couldn’t resist drawing it yet again. The green side that I had sketched initially was now almost yellow-orange because it had ripened on my desk. Yes, it was delicious, too!) I used the same Stillman & Birn Alpha sketchbook that I used on the first two sketches, but with the Blackwing Colors it took almost twice as long to fill all the nooks and crannies in the paper’s tooth. Still, once I was done, I liked the richness of the colors and how well they blended.

 

6/29/17 Blackwing Colors, Stillman & Birn Alpha sketchbook

8/17/16 Blackwing Colors, Field Notes notebook

On the less toothy 60-pound Finch Opaque Smooth Field Notes paper, it was a bit easier to build pigment for the Bing cherries, but the colors also don’t look as rich because I used fewer layers. Even though it takes more work and time, I still prefer using paper with a bit (but not too much) of tooth. It seems contradictory: I work hard to cover up all the nooks and crannies in the paper’s tooth with multiple layers of pigment, but when just a little of the paper shows through, it results in a sparkle.

Although I don’t know if they are artist quality in terms of being lightfast and archival (with hues like pink and metallic silver in the assortment, I suspect they are not), Blackwing Colors appear and feel as high quality as most mid- to upper-range pencils I’ve used. (At $19.95 for 12, they’re in the same price range, too.)

The big drawback, though, is the very limited color range. It’s a typical set of colors I see often in sets of 12 (well, except that silver, which is an interesting oddball, but I don’t have much use for silver. I bet Blackwing put it in there just because they knew it would look great with the pencils’ silver end caps and lettering!). The five pencils I used on the tomato worked for that subject, but I had a harder time coming up with the right mix for the red-black Bings.

Pretty silver end caps and lettering on the pencils.

An equally significant problem is that the pencils are not available open stock. You might be able to see from the photo of the boxed pencils that my orange is down by half an inch – and that was just from the one tomato drawing. The soft cores need sharpening often, and once that orange is gone, I can’t replace it without buying a new box. (Of course, I have a gazillion other orange pencils from other brands, but that’s beside the point.)

With those two issues, I can’t in good conscience recommend these pencils in any serious, art-material-review kind of way. But what the heck – they’re colored pencils from Blackwing! They’ll probably stay in their windowed box most of the time, just looking cool, and I’m OK with that. 

(The limited color range in this Blackwing set really got me thinking about how many pencil colors one really needs – and which colors I would choose if I were designing my own box of 12. I’m still noodling . . . stay tuned!)

Updated 9/12/17: I just learned about a site that sells Blackwing Colors colored pencils individually! If you want some, order fast – I’ve heard that selling these pencils open stock is against the manufacturer’s policy, so they may be gone soon.

Colored Pencil Conclusion: One is Not Enough

4/4/17 Faber-Castell Polychromos, Caran d'Ache Pablo, Stillman & Birn Alpha

Orange you happy to see something other than an apple?

As you might have gathered from yesterday’s post, my research didn’t result in a single favorite brand that rose to the top as my ideal colored pencil. I didn’t expect it to, and it wasn’t really my goal. My objective was to clarify the pros and cons of the brands I’d been using most recently, and working on these reviews definitely achieved that. More significant for my larger purposes is that I became more critical about how qualities of colored pencils affect a drawing.

The creamy softness of a colored pencil has always been one of the most important qualities to me – tactically, it feels better when applied, and I perceive that it spreads more easily (soft butter on toast spreads more easily than cold butter). What I didn’t realize until I started working with colored pencils intensively, though, is that a soft core flattens immediately, so the pigment is skimming the surface of the paper rather than getting into the valleys of the tooth. More of the paper shows through for quite a while until many layers are applied. (This is a useful quality when I want the paper’s surface to show, but I don’t often want that with colored pencil work.) A harder core can work into those valleys more easily and quickly on the first couple of passes with less paper showing through.

A high-quality soft pencil usually has richer, more intense hues (or maybe it just appears that way because more of the soft pigment is being applied at one time), and softer cores blend more evenly. A-ha – hard and soft pencils both have good qualities – using them together might be a strategic approach!

I did some experiments with this approach in mind, and the heirloom tomato shows the strategy that seems to be working best for me. Using the harder Faber-Castell Polychromos pencil, I made the contour drawing and took the first couple of passes of color, which covered quite a bit of the Stillman & Birn Alpha paper’s texture. Then using the same hues but slightly different shades of softer Caran d’Ache Pablo pencils, I gave the tomato a few more layers. Since the colors are just slightly different, the result is just a bit richer and more complex. The softer pencils also helped blend the tomato’s variegated tones and hues. As a final touch, I sharpened up the harder Polychromos and drew the details like the leafy parts at the top.  

I think this process would work just as well with any hard/soft pencil combo, not just Polychromos and Pablo. But going the other way – starting with softer pencils and finishing with harder – doesn’t work as well. The harder pencil core feels like it is sliding off the waxy, creamier surface, and it’s much more difficult to get through those waxy layers to the paper’s valleys without smashing down the tooth.

Now, if I were planning a trip to Gilligan’s Island (yes, I like to visit Gilligan whenever I need to pare down my sketch kit or simplify my options) and could take only one set of colored pencils, I’d probably choose Polychromos. Nicely balanced between soft and hard, it’s probably the most versatile of all the pencils I’ve tried – it has a full range of colors readily available open stock; and it’s good for both details and coverage. But pairing Polychromos with Pablo or another soft pencil seems to make the final colors more vibrant – and tactically, it just feels nicer. (Ultimately, I’m a hedonistic sketcher: If it doesn’t feel good doing it, why do it?)

Since this was an idiosyncratic review series based on my personal needs and responses to materials, it’s not necessarily intended to serve the public good. Ultimately, each sketcher has to do his or her own research to find the best materials for individual needs. But if what I learned was useful to you in any way, then that’s a bonus. In any case, thanks for coming along for the ride (and enduring daily apples)!

Pablo (left) combined with Polychromos: A good recipe.

Hard and Soft

2/2/18 Omega and Pablo colored pencils in Stillman & Birn Alpha sketchbook

In my review of vintage Try-Rex Omega colored pencils, I left the sample sketch unfinished to show how far I got with those very hard cores. Halfway through, I realized that the cores didn’t contain as much pigment as I like for building up rich, complex hues. I could have kept on adding more layers, but I was getting frustrated.

Lately when I make small still lives, I’ve been choosing one brand of pencil and using only that one brand to finish the sketch. My frustration with the Omegas reminded me, though, of a strategy I had experimented with last year when I was writing my series of reviews of contemporary colored pencils. What I had learned then was that both hard and soft pencils have their virtues, and if I use both types in the same sketch, I can take advantage of the best attributes of each.

The hard Omega pencils were excellent for covering the Stillman & Birn Alpha paper’s tooth relatively quickly in just a couple of layers. The crisp, thin cores were also good for drawing fine details like the tomato leaves.

2/2/18 Omega colored pencils

When I saw that they weren’t pigmented enough to build strong hues, I switched to Caran d’Ache Pablo, which is one of my favorite soft-core pencils. With just a couple more layers of similar hues, I was able to deepen the colors of the tomato and pear without much effort or time. Since the harder Omega pencils had done the work of covering most of the tooth, I didn’t have to work the Pablos much, yet their higher pigment content made a difference. (Finished sketch at top of page; sketch at right shows the sketch before I added the Pablo layers.) 

For comparison, shown below is the sketch I made for my erasing demo. This tomato sketch was done entirely with Caran d’Ache Pablo pencils in the same Stillman & Birn Alpha sketchbook. As you can see, the paper’s texture is much harder to cover completely with the Pablo’s softer core, even after multiple layers. Sometimes I like the sparkle of the white paper showing, so it’s not necessarily a bad thing. But when I want to cover more of the paper, it’s faster and easier to start with a harder pencil and then finish with a softer one.

1/24/18 Pablo colored pencils in Stillman & Birn Alpha sketchbook

Review: Mitsubishi Uni Colored Pencils

 

The fantastic Uni Colored Pencil box!

Like the Mitsubishi Uni Water Color Pencils I reviewed recently, I’ve had a set of Uni non-water-soluble colored pencils for years, yet I never got around to reviewing them until now. My initial impression of them was lukewarm at best, and I couldn’t quite muster up enough enthusiasm (if I loved them) or outrage (if I hated them) to review them immediately. I was recently asked my opinion of them, however, which made me realize I had never reviewed them. I also reminded myself that when I finally did get around to reviewing the Uni Water Color Pencils, I was surprised that they were better than my first impression. I further reminded myself that the more experience I have with colored pencils, the more tolerant I seem to become, and the better my results are with pencils of any kind, even ones that had disappointed me in the past. With or without enthusiasm or outrage, it was high time to review Uni Colored Pencils.

A clamshell box that opens to ...

I don’t usually spend much time commenting on pencil packaging, but this set deserves attention. When the vinyl-covered clamshell lid is opened, the two trays of pencils in this 72-color set lift slightly away from the box, making it easy to withdraw individual pencils. The set of 100 has an even more mechanically elaborate box: four pencils share a tray that swings out from the rest. (I admit, I came close to buying the 100 just for the unique box, but somehow I managed to resist.)

...two trays of easy-to-withdraw pencils.

In addition, each pencil has its own slot labeled with its color number and name (in both Japanese and English)! If you are the kind of person who likes all your pencils neatly stored and arranged, this box will be very satisfying – I don’t recall seeing any other set of colored pencils arranged and labeled in this way.

A labeled slot for each pencil... very satisfying.

If you know me, of course, you will know that I am not that kind of person – I don’t do well with keeping colors stored in the order determined by a pencil manufacturer – but I appreciate the esthetic and organizational appeal. Also, having experienced many tins and boxes of both vintage and contemporary pencil sets that look nice but are nearly impossible to remove individual pencils from, I genuinely appreciate Mitsubishi’s box design. (If there’s one thing the Japanese do well, it is design user-friendly products.)

As for the design and appearance of the pencil itself, there were no surprises: They are as beautiful as anything you’d expect bearing the Uni name. The glossy barrel, the rounded end cap, the elegant double band, the gold imprint (all of which match the Uni Water Color Pencil’s design except that the barrel is round while the watercolor pencils are hexagonal) – all reinforce the esthetic and quality that I have come to know and love about Uni.

Ahhh...how I love Uni end caps!

Each pencil is identified with its color number and name (which are essential for accurate refiling in the labeled box).

Color name (in English) and number on the barrel (no lightfast rating; I found no information, but I doubt these could be artist quality.)

Appreciation for esthetics finally done, it was time to open a sketchbook and go get one of the gorgeous heirloom tomatoes I had just purchased at the farmers market. With the primary triad I learned in Kathleen Moore’s class firmly planted in my color mind lately, naturally I picked out three hues accordingly: Carmine (512), Lemon Yellow (504) and Blue (533). Carmine is warmer than Prismacolor’s Process Red, but it was as close as I could find.

Using a smooth Stillman & Birn Zeta sketchbook, the first layers of color went down well enough. Uni pencils are among the hardest I’ve used; they are similar to Faber-Castell Polychromos in that regard. Although many prefer a soft, creamy texture in colored pencils, I don’t necessarily deem hardness a flaw; a strongly pigmented pencil like Polychromos is useful for both fine details as well as multi-layered applications. So I didn’t hold the hard core against the Uni.

6/27/21 Uni Colored Pencils in Stillman & Birn Zeta sketchbook

It didn’t take long using the Unis to be reminded of my initial impressions: Although it seems contradictory, Unis are hard, but they don’t seem to retain a point the way Polychromos can. I found myself sharpening them as often as I do soft Prismacolors. (Incidentally, every time I sharpen a pencil, my Fitbit registers the activity as 11 steps! Tina has discovered the pencil-sharpening workout! This was especially useful during our record-breaking heatwave, when sharpening pencils was my only physical activity.)

The more frustrating trait, however, is that it takes significant effort to build up color layers with the Unis, which indicates low pigment content. I spent 90 minutes on this small tomato sketch, but I still didn’t achieve the color depth that I had wanted. I had planned to draw the lime green plate under the tomato, but after that much work on the tomato, I didn’t have it in me to continue.

The exercise wasn’t a total frustration, however: I did enjoy using and mixing the primary triad. Even with Carmine being warmer than I was looking for, it mixed beautifully with both Lemon Yellow and Blue. The more I experiment with this triad principle, the more I love it.

I went through my image files to look for other sketches I had made with the Unis, and I found two from 2017, probably around the time I had first bought the set. One was made in a S&B Alpha, and an unfinished one was made in a S&B Epsilon (both tomatoes – imagine that!). According to my notes, I found it a bit easier to build color on the toothier Alpha. I was frustrated enough on Epsilon (which has the same smooth surface as Zeta) to abandon the sketch without finishing it – just as I did this time. And like this time, my notes say I could not seem to build layers adequately. Hmmm, a pattern is developing, and it’s not a good one.

8/9/17 unfinished sketch on S&B Epsilon

8/27/17 S&B Alpha

I had thought that several more years of colored pencil use under my belt might have improved my application technique or simply increased my tolerance for pencil idiosyncrasies, which I sometimes enjoy as a challenge. But not in this case. I’ve been generous enough: These Uni colored pencils are not worth the effort. (If you know how much I love Uni graphite pencils, you would understand how much it breaks my heart to say that.)

The box they came in, however, is another matter. Some Amazon reviewers had the best idea: Empty out the mediocre Uni pencils and fill the slots with your favorites! If it weren’t for the fact that I don’t like to store or use my pencils that way, I would do that.

A note on price: When I bought my set of 72 several years ago, I paid less than $60. Now I see that Amazon’s price for the same set is $95. This disproportionate price increase is similar to what I’ve seen with the Holbein sets. I’m not sure what’s going on, but it doesn’t bode well with American consumers of Japanese colored pencils.

The Uni box is nice, but this is the way I like to see and use my pencils!

Watercolor Pencils with Grisaille, Part 1

The Hollender grisaille experiment

The use of the grisaille painting technique is familiar to me in two ways. My introduction to the concept was in Steve Reddy’s still life workshop years ago. He taught us how to use varying dilutions of India ink to tone a drawing first, then add watercolor over this grisaille. Since the tones of ink had already done the work of establishing the values, applying color afterwards was a no-brainer.

I never got into using his technique, mainly because using India ink on location was too fraught with peril. I kept the concept in mind, however. A few years later, I adapted it by using a range of gray Faber-Castell Pitt Artist Pens for the grisaille, then applying watercolor pencil over these tones. Eventually I decided I didn’t like the way the grisaille dulled the hues (in fact, that’s one reason I didn’t like using India ink dilutions with watercolor, either) and weaned myself off them. I also didn’t care for the marker-y look. I wanted to learn to develop values using the hues themselves. It’s a more challenging way to use color, and one that I still struggle with, but I prefer the clarity of hues and sparkle that show through without the grisaille.

So that’s my limited experience with the use of grisaille. Fast-forward to a couple of months ago when a blog reader recommended the book The Joy of Botanical Drawing, by Wendy Hollender. Using only watercolor pencils and traditional colored pencils, Hollender uses a grisaille method to make botanical illustrations. I’m always interested in learning new watercolor pencil techniques, so I picked up the book at my library.

Although many botanical illustrators use colored pencils, fewer seem to use watercolor pencils. Among the ones I know of, I think Hollender’s technique is unique. In a nutshell, and showing images from my first attempt, I’ll describe Hollender’s method. (Note: Although my process below may look like a “how-to,” it is really a “trying-to”! I am still stumbling along, so if you are interested in learning her technique, please read her book, as following what I do would be the blind leading the blind.)

First, apply dry watercolor pencil to a non-absorbent palette. One option she suggested was Yupo synthetic paper, and I happened to have a piece of Yupo Heavy from the sample pack of Legion Stonehenge papers that I reviewed for the Well-Appointed Desk. The heavier weight is ideal for this purpose. Hollender uses Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer watercolor pencils, so I did, too. The pigment barely adheres to the plasticky, frictionless Yupo surface, so it’s difficult to build up a heavy swatch. She recommended a range of colors, but the basic concept is to use at least one neutral dark hue as the grisaille, plus the predominant local color of the subject.

Dry watercolor pencil applied to Yupo palette.

Using a small brush (I used my usual waterbrush), activate the pigment on the Yupo palette, making small puddles of watercolor.

Activate the pigment.

Apply the grisaille color (in my case, purple) to the drawing to establish the values. Allow that to dry completely, then apply more layers as needed, allowing each to dry before adding the next. As a final layer, apply the predominant local color (avoiding the highlight). This method is similar to the traditional watercolor glazing technique of applying multiple transparent layers of paint. (This was the hardest step for me – all that waiting for each layer to dry! How tedious! As a result, my tomato’s grisaille was way too wimpy; I was too impatient to follow up with a few more layers.)

Grisaille and main local color applied from the palette.

Finally, Hollender’s method is to use only dry colored pencils over the grisaille to finish the drawing. She prefers Faber-Castell Polychromos for this part, so that’s what I used, too. (Incidentally, Hollender uses a restricted palette of only a couple dozen pencil colors. She uses only Durer and Polychromos together, pairing each watercolor pencil with its corresponding match in the Polychromos palette. It’s an interesting way to work and far more practical than the huge colored pencil palettes some botanical artists favor.)

4/9/21 F-C Albrecht Durer and Polychromos pencils in S&B Beta sketchbook 
(before burnishing)

As a final step, burnish the drawing with a white or cream-colored pencil. The purpose of burnishing is to blend the colors further and flatten the paper’s tooth so that more pigment can be applied. I have not had much experience with burnishing, so I decided to give it a try on the tomato. Below is the final result after burnishing. Frankly, I don’t see enough difference to make it worth the effort, which took quite a bit of time.

Finished drawing after burnishing.

Overall, my wimpy grisaille didn’t help me much, and in fact, my sloppy application of the wet color hindered my application of dry layers afterwards. The sloppiness remained fully visible beneath the transparent colored pencil, so I spent additional time “fixing” spots I wasn’t happy with. To do this well, I need to work on my wet watercolor application technique and probably use a better brush.

The next day I decided to try the Hollender method again to sketch my green mug, this time using Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles for the grisaille and Prismacolors for the dry application. Once again, my grisaille wasn’t strong enough, so the heavy lifting was done by the dry colored pencils. I also regretted the choice of my Stillman & Birn Beta book. With hard Polychromos pencils on the tomato, Beta’s tooth was not a problem. With soft Prismacolors, however, I knew I would have to work much longer to cover the paper’s texture to the same degree. Annoyed, I stopped earlier than I would consider finished; I was unhappy with the grisaille anyway.

Grisaille layer 1 (Museum Aquarelle)

Grisaille layer 2

4/10/21 Museum Aquarelle, Prismacolor pencils in S&B Beta sketchbook

Neither of these sketches thrilled me in either process or result, but they got me thinking. Why make the grisaille application process more challenging for myself by using a traditional watercolor method that I haven’t practiced much? And yet the grisaille concept is worth pursuing. Stay tuned for Part 2.