My first limited-edition paper sculpture

I've only completed one AP of Common
Cliff Dragon--Male so far. Here he is at his
August Art Night show debut--just before
his new owner took him home!

Common Cliff Dragon--Male is a small, relatively simple piece, but it breaks new ground for me. It is my first-ever limited edition of a multiple-original paper sculpture.

I've been working up to this for a bit more than a year and a half, since the first edition in the Mail Piece Project. My emphasis area for my undergraduate art major was printmaking, and most of my earlier fine art career was taken up with producing and helping to sell reproduction prints by myself and other artists, so the idea of a limited edition has never been strange to me.

During the first several years of doing paper sculpture, however, I couldn't see how I could possibly create a limited edition of them. Then I started the Mail Piece Project. Those pieces were more pop-up than paper sculpture, but as I worked on them I began to see more clearly how I could incorporate another "first love," ink drawing, into the process, and make printouts with archival paper and ink.

L-R: The White Dragon (2007), A Nest in the Wildwood (2008-9), Denizen of the Winter Trees (2009), and
Patterns in Turquoise (2011), the final piece in the "Snowflake Dragons-TNG" series.

To explore further, I needed a subject I knew well--it is only helpful to take on so many challenges at once. A dragon was a natural choice for me.

My first-ever paper sculptures, The White Dragon (2007) and A Nest in the Wildwood (2008-9) featured dragons. When I was figuring out a pattern prototype I started with a dragon in Denizen of the Winter Trees (2009). When I was figuring out how to manipulate color in Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator, I did my first experiments with "The Next Generation" of "Snowflake Dragons"(2011).

"Body" drawing

So it was back to the dragon-drawing board for this new effort. I started out knowing only that the image area should be about 5X7" and the subject should be a dragon. Then I let my pencil think for me, for a while.

The result was a pencil drawing of a dragon crouched on a fairly sheer cliff face.  I used tracing paper to trace first the wings, then a full view of the cliff face (no void, even though that meant much of what I drew would eventually be obscured by the body and wings--I wanted a certain flexibility in positioning). The original pencils provided the base for the body's ink lines.

I inked the tracings and scanned them, then added color using Adobe Illustrator and my new Wacom Bamboo Tablet. As I worked with the colors, the idea of a neutralized gray-green cliff background and splashy red-and-white coloration for the dragon began to develop. But what could possibly induce a species to develop the kind of coloration that would make it stand out brilliantly from its background?

Wings, with color added

Yes, I know: dragons aren't a real species. But if they were, they'd follow the same evolutionary patterns as real species, and I'm deeply enough steeped in science to know that most creatures--even those at the top of the food chain, such as tigers, leopards, and wolves--generally have some level of camouflage that helps them visually blend into their surroundings.

The main exceptions I could think of were birds and fish. In some of those species, the males display brilliant colors, both to attract a mate and to decoy enemies away from nests. One look at this dragon's wings should tell you I see him as more bird than fish! Goes along with the whole "feathered dinosaur" thing, in my mind.

Okay, so now I had a "logical" rationale for making him the colors I wanted to: he's in mating plumage. Maybe the rest of the year he goes around in drab gray-green, but during this one season he sports a complimentary color scheme like Christmas. And just to make sure the rationale is clear, I added a border and "scientific" information about him (If anyone reading this knows Latin, please check my usage!).

Even sporting red feathers, my cliff dragon was too well
camouflaged against the left-hand background.
I gave him deeper shadows in the background at right.

There still was the matter of the cliff rocks, and I went back and forth on this for a while. Even with all the red on him, he still tended to blend into the background a bit more than was helpful for an artwork (although I'm already extrapolating what kind of predator might prey on common cliff dragons. He wouldn't want to stand out so much that Dragon Eaters could even more easily spot him, or it could be a very short, unhappy mating season!)

My husband didn't care about Dragon Eaters. "I'd make the background completely black," he said. "That'll make him 'pop!'"

I tried a really dark gray screen overlay over the rocks, to see if I could live with it, but I couldn't dismiss thoughts of the Dragon Eaters, and it didn't look enough like the kind of lighting and background colors that worked with this dragon's coloration to suit me. Finally, I came to the compromise of giving him darker shadows to outline some key "edges." That way, I wouldn't feel required to put a pin through his back and claim he was a collected specimen in a shadowbox.

Scroll up and check to see if you think the darker shadows did the trick!

Finally, after all this, I had something I could cut out, sculpt, and assemble, sort of in the way I did with the roses I showed a few weeks back. The rocks are 3-D, as well as the dragon. To me, the sculpting is the most fun part, because it's a little like making magic happen.

There's only "AP #1" (the first Artist's Proof) so far. My little cliff-dweller is possibly still in development. I don't know if there will need to be more proofs (I sold AP #1 on its first outing, before my husband could see it), nor have I figured out an edition size. Even when I can print pre-made flat images, I still have to cut out the pieces, sculpt them all, and assemble each one by hand--a fairly time-consuming process, even though I can do it while watching Nature or Bones on TV. Perhaps I can take a reading on some of these questions if people leave comments (please? I'd love some input!).

"Rose Dance"--New Work-In-Progress!

I have begun a series of pieces this year that is based on a new approach to paper sculpture.

I've gotten far enough with the first one (working title: Rose Dance) to show a few samples in this space, but first I'd like to give a little history of how I got to this point.

This is the "quote panel" from the Summer Mail Piece.

My work last year on the Mail Piece Project proved to be absolutely as enlightening as I had hoped. It was a series of self-mailing multiple originals developed on the basic design of a trifold brochure, in each case incorporating some kind of paper technology.

If you would like to see some of my progress reports, take a look at New Year, Spring, and an overview of the elements that developed as consistent features. Unfortunately I got so busy I never added pages for Summer, Autumn, or Winter, though I probably should! Each edition in the series of five was a little more elaborate than the previous one.

Here is the "quote panel" for the Autumn Mail Piece.

One of the many things I gained from the Mail Piece Project was a return to my artistic "first loves" of ink drawing and limited edition printmaking (confession: I was a Printmaking "major" as an undergrad, even though I've spent a big chunk of my adult career as a graphic designer).

Here is the original ink drawing for what became
the "border panels" of Rose Dance.

Earlier, I had developed a prototype pattern for a dragon body and wings for a couple of pieces that I called "twig dragons," because they were attached to actual Silver Maple twigs from my yard.

I rendered the basic pattern as variations in ink, with both ink and color added by hand, and used them for Denizen of the Winter Trees and Treetop Primaries.

I was not satisfied with the results of the Prismacolor pencils as scanned and reproduced in the early editions of the Mail Piece Project, however--they seemed kind of muddy. So I experimented with adding color on the computer, using Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator.

The computer-based approach for adding color was used in several parts of the the last three Mail Pieces, though I also hand-colored all of those originals with Prismacolor pencils.

I also used computer color for my "Snowflake Dragons: The Next Generation" series. See Spring Swirls and Patterns in Turquoise for examples.

These color variations created separate layers.

The idea for the full Rose Dance composition originated from looking at the first panel I produced. It originally was going to be primarily an experiment: a small, limited edition of pieces that began as ink drawings that were colored on the computer, cut out, and layered.

Mirror images were designed to print 2-sided.

I developed different layers of color. Two color modulations formed the base layer (the darker one on the left, above), and a second overlay layer, with leaves and flower cut out from the background (right, above). Third and fourth layers were composed of the flower alone (see at left), printed on two sides, then cut out, sculpted, and glued at the center.

Here is the finished border panel, cut out, sculpted, and assembled.

Once I'd printed the various color layers on different weights of acid-free, archival-quality paper, I cut, sculpted, and assembled enough of the small panels to realize they could be more than simple stand-alone pieces. They could be assembled to create a border.

I experimented with several border layouts, but eventually decided I liked the square composition best. At that point I could begin the "base" ink drawing for the center.

The ink work is now done, but I'm still in the process of adding color. I'll post another article about this piece, once I have finished the whole thing.

IMAGE CREDITS: All photos and scans are of my original artwork, by me. All images are copyright 2011 and 2012 by Jan S. Gephardt, all rights reserved.

Dream Show

Specialty Rolled Metals
becomes an impromptu
gallery, May 5, 2011
Photo taken with permission.

I recently had a dream that I was in a vast maze of art galleries filled with people. We wandered wide-eyed past an array of paintings, sculptures, fiber pieces, drawings, pots, and other artworks in many different media.

When we looked at them, some of them would suddenly grow larger, or become more brilliantly colorful, or they would begin to glow.

Sometimes they came off the wall or down from the pedestal, to mingle and interact with us, to the delight of all.

Looking in the window of the
Arts Incubator from 18th Street in
the Kansas City Crossroads,
March 3, 2006.

Thinking about it afterward, it seemed to me that this dream offered an apt metaphor for the way I sometimes feel about viewing an interesting art exhibition.

One piece of art alone may “speak” to a person—but a whole, coordinated gallery full of artworks, curated around a theme, can sing in a wonderful chorus to an attuned viewer.

Make it a point to go look at some art soon: maybe you’ll find such a “chorus.”

PHOTOS: I took both of these photos during different First Fridays in the Kansas City Crossroads (see dates). They are available for use under a Creative Commons license, which specifies they should not be altered, and should be published with credit given to me as the photographer. 

Do YOU know the Warning Signs of Art?

I couldn't resist sharing this on my blog . . . 

This poster from the College for Creative Studies has been making the
rounds on Facebook, recently.

A delightful poster has been circulating on Facebook, and I am proud to share it here.

It is the brainchild of the slightly twisted minds at the College for Creative Studies in Detroit, MI, but the primary distributor seems to have been someone at the Philbrook Museum of Art, in Tulsa, OK. One of the places they posted it was the Association of Art Museum Directors (AAMD) Facebook page.

Of course, those of us who persist in making and/or teaching art also wince a bit, at the parallel drawn between what we do and illegal drugs.

Unfortunately, in my experience, there are people who actually feel approximately this negative, when they think of a young person in their life who might be "turning to a life of art."

The myth of the "starving artist" (popularized famously by the opera La Boheme, and still ruggedly persistent to this day) clouds people's minds.

True, a career in the arts is often difficult and challenging. Sometimes things actually don't work out.

But parents who try to "shield" their kids from dreams of working in the arts do them a massive disservice. I know many successful artists who work in a variety of art forms, and to be successful every one of them had to have talent, opportunity/luck--and a solid knowledge background.

You can't function as a high-performing professional if you don't know what you're doing. Parents and other well-meaning advisers who guide gifted students away from art are keeping them from learning the skills they need, to make their dreams become reality.  In their effort to save their kids the pain of failure, they actually doom those kids to a lifetime of regret that they never had a real chance to reach for their dreams.

So, while I can laugh at the thought of doodling as a "gateway to illustration" . . . as with most humor, it's pain that makes it funny.

Reframe IV: "Snowflake Dragons"

   

This is my original set of boxed, unmatted "Snowflake Dragons,"
at the February 2011 sf convention, Snowflake 13.

I made the first of my series of "Snowflake Dragons" as a group of whimsical color groupings for Snowflake 13, a small science fiction convention in February 2011.  I'd been invited as the Artist Guest of Honor, and wanted to do something special for the convention.  My earlier post, "Fun at the 'Flake'" tells of that adventure.

Unframed Snowflake Dragons could not have been included
in the display in the Stiles Gallery.

I wanted to display my unsold Snowflake Dragons at the March 2011 exhibition in the Stiles Gallery at Westwood City Hall, but they had to be framed, if I planned to show them there.

I set the boxes aside, pulled out some of my unused shadowboxes, and here are the results.

I added another, larger snowflake to my little piece, Orange on Blue #1,  to complete it for framing. I hope it is a fun little piece of artwork.  It also is a study in complementary colors.

The frames definitely give these pieces more presence.  This is Three Yellow on Yellow, a mostly monochromatic piece.

Yellow, Blue and Violet on Gray uses a different trio, and echoes the dragons' colors in the background.

We are warned not to judge books by their covers, and we might extend that thought to judging art by the framing, but I think no one would argue that--in the "real world"--presentation makes a difference.

The Evolution of a Paper Sculpture

My current primary paper-sculpture-in-progress (working title: Koi's World) has had a long, rather strange development process.  I feel as if I'm solving a mystery as I go.

Here are major pieces of the developing artwork,
tentatively titled Koi's World.

I'm not sure if you can tell from the assemblage of paper sculpture pieces at right, but the idea is to show a view of the fish in its underwater fishpond environment.

The first part of this artwork's development, however, didn't seem to have anything to do with koi, or lily pads, or even ponds.  Back in 2009, I was just looking for a way to make a curving stem structure.

My 2009 "twisty stems"

You may not have thought about this, but making anything but an extremely straight, ramrod-like structure from a rolled piece of paper is a real challenge.  When I figured out how to make segments that could be assembled into "twisty stems," that was a breakthrough.  I spent a while grooving out on my sinuous structures, but no good idea for a finished piece of art seemed to develop from this.

Finally, in the fall of 2010 I picked up one segment of "twisty stem," looked at it from a new angle, and asked a friend in my Art Group, "Don't you think this kind of looks like the head of a koi?"  I've been a fan of koi (a kind of large, colorful Japanese carp related to goldfish) for years.

My assembled paper-sculpture koi

My friend stared at the paper segment for a few moments, clearly wanting to be supportive, but honest.  "No," she finally admitted.

"It just needs some development," I said.  I'll show you what I mean."  And I proceeded, by trial and error, to figure out how to make not just the head, but the whole fish.

Some of my koi reference photos in my sketchbook

In a couple of months I had a finished fish, and I also had assembled a large collection of resource images of koi, which I turned into montages with Adobe Illustrator.  I printed them out, and put them into my sketchbook, so I could refer to them for details wherever I was working.

May I just say right here that I dearly love the Internet, and especially Google Image Search, for this capability?  Back in early days, I had a physical reference image library that filled many file drawers.

I was always cutting up magazines or newspapers, and categorizing the images in manila file folders.  The result was a large, heavy, messy collection of images that were never quite from the right angle, never quite captured the exact right thing, and often weren't in color.  Moreover, the act of collecting and categorizing them was laborious and tedious.

Did I mention I love the Internet?  Oh, how dearly I love the Internet!

So at last I had my koi--but he needed a home.  Whenever I showed him to people, they said they liked him, but inevitably would ask, "what are you going to do with him?"

"Travis S." posted a photostream on Flickr that gave me my
final key to the Koi's World.  Here is one of several
sketchbook spreads I made from his underwater lily pads.

Good question!  I did research on fish ponds and lily pads, but mostly from the human point of view.  Nothing seemed to work just right, as I visualized it in my head.  Then early one morning before I was totally awake I had a flash of what it might look like from the koi's point of view.  It "felt right" immediately.

But I'm about accuracy, as well as fantasy (no, that is not a contradiction).  I want it to look right, even if it's utterly imaginary.

I'd never been underwater in a koi pond, nor did I have much opportunity to do so, in December in Kansas.  What would it actually look like, down there?  How do lily pads look from below?  What color(s) are they?  What do the stems and roots look like, and how do they grow?  I could guess . . . or I could go back to Google Image Search (not a hard choice!).

I can't express how excited I was to find a perfect--absolutely, utterly perfect!--resource in the wonderful photostream of "Travis S." on Flickr.  If you'd like to read about his adventures in photographing lily pads from below, read the 8/29/2005 entry "Montlake," on his Chicken Porn blog.

The quest for the completion of this opus continues, however.  Now I'm puzzling through how to make the "lily pad" structures, portray the pond's banks from underwater, and figure out not only what "up" looks like from this viewpoint, but how to show it convincingly in paper sculpture.

The mystery reveals itself at its own pace, not mine.  I'm definitely making progress, but at the rate I'm going you probably shouldn't hold your breath till you see the end result of this underwater view.

“Work: In Progress,” Varied Subjects

My artwork was on view September 2-19, 2010, at the Johnson County (Kansas) Library’s Central Resources Center.  This post shares images and commentary from that show.

The "Work: In Progress" show spans several decades, and gives kind of a past/present/future view of my work. It included some of my 2-D work from my "first art career" in the 1980s, all of the current paper sculptures, and sketchbook pages, which show some of my works in progress--a glimpse of the future.

In my last post, I showed the work from the south-side display case, which focused on my fantasy artwork, and included 2-D pieces dating back to the 1980s, when I was showing and selling my artwork exclusively in the science fiction and fantasy genre.  In this post, I focus on works from the north-side display case, which address a variety of non-genre subjects.

The northern (right-hand) display case at the library was devoted to work on a variety of topics.

 Development pages for "Midwest Flora" Series, 2009.

In September 2009 I took a series of photos near the site of the Hidden Glen Arts Festival, Olathe, KS, which formed the nucleus for a new series. This sketchbook spread shows some of the studies I did for what I intend to be an ongoing series.

"Monarch Season" 2009-2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

This was the first piece I started, in the "Midwest Flora" series. It includes four species of plants, as well as a Monarch butterfly, created to scale.

 "Wind in the Grass" 2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

I used a "design approach" to create this small piece, floating a "cropped" rectangle of grasses against a textured background. It also is part of my ongoing "Midwest Flora" series.

"Windblown" 2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

In this piece I returned to my love of rendering leaves (see "Treetop Primaries" and "The Leaf Thing" in the Fantasy Subjects album for this show). My objective was to explore the expressive possibilities in making the leaves seem not only like they were blowing in a wind gust, but also to explore ways of "floating" them above one another so they would seem airborne. This piece is the third one completed so far, of my ongoing "Midwest Flora" series.

Development pages for Yemeni Architecture Series, 2010.

Ever since I first discovered the beauty of traditional Yemeni architecture, I've wanted to make art about it. Greatly aided by Google Image Search, and later by my treasured friend Zaid, I have been attempting to do justice to these amazing structures in the medium of paper sculpture. This is just one of many spreads from recent sketchbooks.

 "Sana'a Fantasy" 2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

 This was the first piece I created, based on the wonderful traditional architecture of Yemen. Unfortunately, some of the architectural features truly are "fantasy." When I showed it to my dear friend Zaid, he gently informed me that the windows are all wrong. I now am at work on several pieces that attempt to portray the windows of Old Town Sana'a more accurately—but in the meantime, I still felt the dimensionality of the buildings and mountains created an interesting design.

"House on a Rock" 2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

This piece is based on architecture from the mountainous northeast part of Yemen, though once again my extraordinarily helpful friend Zaid has alerted me that I've mixed different villages' styles. I'll try to do better in future works!  There were multiple challenges involved in cutting these pieces in perspective, in reverse (the construction lines are on the back).  However, the hardest part of making this piece has to be the rocks. I added the Prismacolor pencil marks before folding, so I had to do a lot of imaginative visualization to get them to come out looking right.  I now list "can fold rocks" as one of my super-powers.

 "Through the Arch" 2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

This small piece also is an architectural study, but it is not based on the buildings in Yemen. It was more an exploration of the ways I could combine the optical illusion of drawn shadows and highlights to create visual texture, with the actual dimensionality achieved by layering several depths of real texture.

"Four Seasons Courtyard" 2007, earthenware and glaze.

I based this piece on traditional Islamic garden design (as a microcosm for Paradise). Each corner references a different season—perhaps it is not the most subtle expression of the idea that we live in Paradise right here on earth, but I had fun with it.

 "Fields Like Patchwork" 2007, earthenware and glaze.

Aside from the pun in its name (the fields are laid out like a 9-patch quilt block), this piece also expresses my love for the beauty of the earth as seen from an airplane window.  I deeply loved working with handbuilt ceramic sculpture, and would like to explore this medium further in the future.

 Developmental pages for "Italian Greyhounds" images.

I've always loved the sleek beauty of sight hounds, so naturally when I came to own a pair of Italian Greyhounds, I knew sooner or later they'd show up in my artwork.  The tan-and-white dog in the photos on the left side of the page is my dog Jake. The little black one on the right is my Brenna.  As you can tell from my little "first prototype," I'm still working on how to turn them into paper sculpture. I've nicknamed this little guy "Oakley," because his color reminds me of a dog owned by my friends Brad and Jessica. 

I hope you have enjoyed looking at the artwork in my "Work: In Progress" display. 

“Work: In Progress,” The Fantasy Collection

My artwork was on view September 2-19, 2010, at the Johnson County (Kansas) Library’s Central Resources Center.  The "Work: In Progress" show spans several decades, and gives kind of a past/present/future view of my work. It included some of the 2-D work from my "first art career" in the 1980s, all of the current paper sculptures, and sketchbook pages, which show some of my works in progress--a glimpse of the future.

The left-hand (southern) display case focused on my fantasy artwork, and this collection is the focus of this post.  I'll focus on the other display next time.   

The fantasy collection included three images from my “first art career” as a science fiction and fantasy artist/illustrator in the 1980s, as well as my current, mixed media paper sculptures, many of which have been shown at the ConQuesT, Conestoga, and Capricon science fiction and fantasy conventions.  All of the paper sculptures were displayed in the “Paper Dragons” show, Roeland Park, KS, March 2010.

"Stormwings" 1985, acrylic on Masonite.

This painting took 6 months to create, from first sketches through final brushstroke. Back in those days, I had to rely on images clipped from publications, for reference material. It took a week to find a grainy newspaper image of ducks taking off from a pond, that I could use for "wing" reference. Nowadays, I'd have hundreds of images available with one image search!

"Harmony" 1984, graphite on paper.

I used this drawing for our "Christmas Print" in 1984, and displayed it at numerous shows.

"Enlightenment" 1988, ink on Bristol board.

This piece was used for a "Christmas Print" in 1988. The model for the little boy was my son Ty, who was two years old at the time. The titles on the spines of the books on the shelves behind him were all titles of books written or published by people on our Christmas mailing list that year.

"The White Dragon in His Cloud" 2007, mixed media paper sculpture.

This was my first piece of paper sculpture.  I'd been thinking about the possibilities of making dragons in paper sculpture for quite some time, and a few months earlier I'd spent a fun afternoon doing somewhat nonobjective acrylic paintings.  I wasn't sure what to do with them, however, until one day I sat down and began to make my little dragon.  This piece took an afternoon (and the better part of two years) to make.

"A Nest in the Wildwood" 2009, mixed media paper sculpture.

I used painted bits for the background that date back to 2007, but the rendering on the feathers is more sophisticated than my little "White Dragon."

"The Wild Thing in the Weeds" 2009. Mixed media paper sculpture.

This piece was completed not long after "Wildwood," and I drew my materials from the same sources.

"Bone Dragon" 2009, mixed media paper sculpture. 

Kindly lent from the collection of Karin I. Frank.

This was my first exploration of some of the more abstract possibilities of paper sculpture.

 

"Denizen of the Winter Trees" 2009, mixed media paper sculpture.

I spent several months developing the prototype pattern for this dragon form. You'll also see that I created variations on it for another piece, "Treetop Primaries." This artwork also incorporates a real silver maple twig.

Development pages for "Treetop Primaries," 2009.

The "Work: In Progress" show attempted to show something of my process for creating artwork. To that end, I included four sketchbook spreads, including this one.

"Treetop Primaries" 2009-2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

Completed in 2009 (see the "Development pages" that were displayed with it) and adjusted in 2010, "Treetop Primaries" is the largest paper sculpture I had created by the time of the "Work: In Progress" show. I developed the dragon forms from the pattern originally developed for "Denizen of the Winter Trees," and also incorporated several real silver maple twigs into the design.

"The Leaf Thing" 2010, mixed media paper sculpture.

I so enjoyed working with the leaves in the background of "Treetop Primaries" that I made some more . . . then wondered what kind of fantasy creature might inhabit trees where tiny dragons live. I kept calling this piece "my 'leaf' thing" while doing the initial development, and finally decided that the creature also was a "Leaf Thing."

The fantasy collection made up half of my "Work: In Progress" show.  In the next post on "Artdog Observations," I'll show the rest of it.