Day Two: "Murder Of Crows"

For me the composition of a painting doesn't begin with the first applications of paint to the canvas. Long before that, I think about what I want the viewer to ultimately see when they look at my work. I think about the shape my idea presents in my mind, and how that translates into canvas size and proportion (often that calculation will have been decided with preparatory sketches).

I have this cool devise called a "proportional scale"; it's two wheels attached at the center that spin. To use it align the height measurement of your original on the first disc with the desired enlargement (or reduction) size on the second disc, a quick glance back to the first disc at your original's width measurement, will show the correct measurement (in proportion) on the second disc. In the past I've spent far too much time guessing at dimensions in proportion...this is a real time saver!

Once the size is considered, my focus is turned to the surface I'll work on, in this case canvas. I have used and do use ready-made canvases if they are what I need. However if I feel very strongly about an image I want to be inside it from the start. There is great pleasure for me in selecting the stretcher bars, seeing the size of your image take form, checking for sturdy straightness, aligning the dovetails so there is no cracking of the wood, then holding the heft of the wood at arms length envisioning the completed image. At times I simply contemplate this structure before stretching the canvas.

I have used several weights and textures of canvas and linen fabrics, I never stretch primed canvas (it's just too difficult to get it taught). My preference is a heavier fabric, though I have to be careful of thickness so the folded corners won't look like knuckles. The tools I use are canvas pullers, copper tacks, tack hammer, and a pastry brush (more on that later).

The process of stretching a canvas is very easy. Lay the canvas out on a flat surface (I work on the floor), and place the assembled stretcher bar on the canvas. Note: square the stretcher easily by aligning it in a doorway (assuming your doorways are square) and shifting the stretcher to match the door frame. To trim the canvas, fold the canvas over the stretcher to measure about 3 inches from that folded edge, usually just past the inner edge of the stretcher bar. This will allow you enough fabric to fold under the canvas when you begin tacking it down. I find in doing this those annoying strings of unraveling canvas are controlled. Once the canvas is trimmed to size, begin hammering tacks at the center-point of each side, pulling the canvas taught as you work on opposing sides, moving out toward the corners. I measure the tightness of the canvas by thumping it like a drum, at this point the sound should be very faint because when the gesso is applied the canvas will shrink to a good tight drum sound. At the corners, neatness is key. I make hospital corners (think of making your bed as a kid) that fold to the top and bottom sides of the canvas; this direction of fold avoids the crease from being seen from the side if your canvas is exhibited unframed.

There is something hopeful about a blank canvas, a clean slate, facing the future full-faced. Looking at this surface I begin to see the idea in my mind almost subliminally appear on the surface; I envision where the edges of the composition will align, feel the motions that will be required to apply the paint, measuring my being to the surface. There is something to be said for working on a large scale, it is very freeing. As I begin the first brush strokes of gesso, the bond that began with holding the stretcher at arms length is becoming clearer, stronger.

I apply three coats of professional grade acrylic gesso using a pastry brush, allowing each coat to dry (I do not normally gesso around to the sides of the canvas). No real technical reason for this brush selection, I just really like the way the long floppy bristles apply the gesso. I like surface texture and these marks, though white on white, do make a difference. Sometimes, just as the final coat of gesso is almost dry I will drag a palette knife across the surface. This of course is unseen detail, but it familiarizes me with the surface and I can more closely imagine my composition. Tomorrow, this canvas will receive paint.

Paint well...