New York Times Review of Peter Pan

I'm thrilled to have been mentioned in this review of Peter Pan that appeared in the New York Times today : )

Mural for Peter Pan

Impossible to describe the rush I feel when facing a 10 by 20 foot white wall that's just waiting for color. When you paint this big you paint with your whole body. It's an amazing feeling - exciting yet peaceful at the same time. My only regret was that I had only 2 days for this - I could have painted like this, all day, every day, for a very long time....

Details from the finished mural (sketch in an earlier post) for the play Peter Pan by the New Acting Company, NYC.

The Girl Who Was Loved By The Night

I painted this a number of years ago. It's part of a series of figurative paintings done with gouache on paper...it's one of my favorite paintings.

Scenic Painting

Just back from a production meeting for the play Peter Pan, where I presented my design for a painting that's to cover the back wall of the stage, providing a theatrical backdrop for much of the play. Thankfully the director loved it, though I may enhance some of the colors, and he wants an Indian camp added to the forest...there are always changes to be made.

I love doing scenic work. Since so much of my work is now digital, I rarely get a chance to do 'old school' style painting like this - with brushes and paints, and all the mess and unpredictability that goes with it.

My watercolor sketch for this mural is deliberately light on detail - scenic backdrops don't need detail, because the audience is far back and won't see it...this type of work is more 'atmospheric' in nature...it's actually a great contrast to my digital work for the publishing world, which is clean, tight, and carefully planned down to the the smallest details....and involves sitting for hours in front of a computer screen.

Painting a 10 by 20 wall is an entirely different experience - I might make the barest sketch on the wall; just enough to map out basic areas, but after that it's all about laying down paint - big, broad strokes that you put your whole body into - you're jumping up and down on scaffolding, running back to look at it from far away, then back to the wall again-I tend to work pretty fast, so it's exhilirating, a real workout. And very meditative - when you lay down real paint, there's no going back...you have to be completely into the image...it's everything - the colors, the mess, the paint-spattered clothes - the total exhaustion you feel when it's finally finished...there's nothing like it.

The Snow Queen

I love fairy tales - the gothic images they evoke have always fascinated me. So I was very excited when Heather Miller, Director of Content at a wonderful company called Wireless Generation asked me to illustrate Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen.

Heather's idea for this book totally hooked me, because, unlike most books, this one will be done using photo illustration. I'll be working with Mark Salinas, a very talented costume and prop designer, and together, using sculpture, costume, painted backdrops and fabricated props, we'll create sets - much like the type of sets used in stop-motion animation. Each set will then be photographed for the book.

I've never done this before. Which makes it very exciting.

Above is a first look at how I see our cover.

In the midst of winter, a breath of summer...wildflowers bought at the Union Square farmer's market this past summer.

Cast Glass Sculpture

While living in Miami many years ago, I had the good fortune to meet and work with a number of gifted artists from all over the world. We worked together in studios scattered throughout Lincoln Road Mall in South Beach. It was there that I learned the art of cast glass sculpture.

The process is long, difficult and dangerous - which makes it all the sweeter when done successfully.

First, a model is sculpted from wax - I loved this part of the process, the sculpting itself is a deeply meditative experience. When the wax is finished it's set into a plaster mold, and this is the dangerous part - because you want the plaster to adhere to every detail of the wax, you have to use a very fine-grained jeweler's plaster. Which, if inhaled in even small quantities, is highly damaging to the lungs. I worked wearing a heavy face mask and gloves, always a little bit terrified of the stuff.

Next the mold is placed in a special oven and the wax is burned off, leaving the empty plaster, which is then filled with crushed glass. We experimented with all sorts of glass, from fine store-bought sheets to broken beer bottles.

Finally the glass-filled mold is fired overnight in an oven that reaches thousands of degrees. This was the cool part - the next day you take out the mold, cool it and break away the plaster. I did a series of about two dozen small heads. It was always thrilling to take them out and see what had happened - the firing process is unpredictable and even the tiniest bubble can ruin an otherwise perfect surface - but there were also some that went beautifully wrong.

Sadly I've lost most of them over the years. But among those that are left, here is a favorite. The glass absorbs light in a way that gives it an ethereal, almost ghostly quality. I love that.

Larger-Than-Life Drawing

This past weekend I attended a life drawing session at The Slipper Room, a burlesque theater in the east village. As one might expect from such a venue, this was not your usual, academic life drawing experience.

I wasn't sure what to expect, and found myself walking from a sunny New York street into a dark theater that had the look and feel of a David Lynch set. It was noir and glam and seedy and very, very cool. I found a seat in front of a stage swathed in straight-from-the-bordello satin curtains. The model was a wonderful burlesque performer in full costume, complete with flowers, spangles, lucite heels and a pair of sparkly wings. Excellent.

It's been a long time since I've done any life drawing, so I was pretty rusty. The Slipper Room has a bar, so a glass of wine took care of that. Soon the music, the model and the wine worked their magic....three hours of drawing passed before I knew it.

Respect to the creators of Dr. Sketchy's Anti-Art School for making this amazing and inspiring experience possible. I'll definitely be going again.