I spent the rest of my stay in New York City working on a rather large illustration assignment, exploring the city, and enjoying the overall experience. One of the coolest things I've ever done came on the Tuesday following the conference.
The Society of Illustrators, located on 63rd street, holds a jazz and sketch night every Tuesday. I had read about it some time ago, and lamented that I was unable to participate in such a wonderful event, until now. I hopped the train to 59th and Lexington, hiked my way 4 blocks north to 63rd, hung a left and a few doors west, walked right in -- sweaty from the short but sweltering walk. I got there at 6:30pm, just as it was starting. Big mistake. The room, adjacent to the bar, located up the stairs of the older house-like building, with an open gallery space at ground level, and various secretive, roped-off rooms up several flights of stairs, was packed with about 30-40 people. One of the non-roped-off rooms had a young woman at a circular white table taking my $15 for the privilege of drawing 2 outstanding models while gentle jazz played from live musicians, and a bartender served drinks to those who wished for one (or two). Several 2 minute poses followed with 5-minute poses, followed by 10's, and finally 20 minute poses. I gladly made due with either my lap or the back of a chair as an easel to hold my drawing pad, and my free hand to hold vine charcoal twigs and a kneaded eraser.
The room was packed with artists of all ages with all matter of medium, wet and dry, drawing and painting...perhaps with charcoal, like me, or with brilliant indigo ink washes, or pencil, or conte crayon, or you name it.
The final 20-minute pose ended at 9:30pm, which came too soon. I walked the 18 blocks south, back to my hotel in the sticky evening air. The unmissable art-deco Chrysler building, illuminated in white, stayed in front of me as the steam forcefully rose from the orange and white barber shop-striped exhausts on the street, as well as the ever-present steam streaming from the manholes and captured in the white, yellow-orange, and red taxicab lights. Totally beautiful.
My birthday happened to be the next day, Wednesday, the 9th, so how cool to spend it in the the city at the Museum of Modern Art, marveling at the special Dali exhibit on the 6th floor. Aside from the walls and walls of originals, always smaller that you think they'll be, were his film projects. The exhibit included his artistic-inspired scene from the Twilight Zone-flavored Hitchcock film, Spellbound (with his 20 ft. x 40 ft. black and white background mural to the dream scene on display), to his 7-minute Fantasia-inspired Disney-animated collaboration, Destino. Amazing, I thought. Check out the on-line exhibit for a taste.
MoMA
I grabbed the express train downtown to hit one more restaurant recommendation before I left. Teany's is the name: tea + ny = Teany. It's a vegetarian restaurant built by Moby, the techno artist and music licensing afficianado. I took the stairs down from the sidewalk and grabbed a seat on the couch, at a round, silver table. The space was small with about 12-15 two-seat tables packed together in three rows of four or five, and Moby music softly wafting in the air. I had a faux turkey club with a red cooler (raspberry and mint tea with a splash of cranberry juice). I'm not yet a vegetarian, but I love trying new things, and I loved trying this eatery. If you are vegetarian, and you like tea, and you like Moby, you should certainly place Teany on your must-visit list. I have some other vegetarian recommendations that deserve places on that same list. Let me know if you are interested, and I'll gladly share (thanks so much to the individual who shared with me).
Before the day started, though, I did the mandatory standing outside at the Today show -- oohing and ahhing when Matt Lauer, Merideth Vierra, Al Roker, and Natalie Morales came out. Tiki Barber rode in on a Harley. On the vegetarian theme, I also watched Martha Stewart and Matt cook meatless burgers. There was a lot of cooking going on out there, and it sure did smell good. There are plenty of people doing prep work and moving lights and cameras in advance of the segments shot outside. If you happened to watch that day, you did see me on-camera. As Al Roker was coming back from what it's going to be like in my neck of the woods, at about 9am, he stood in front of a group of people, myself being one. I was toward the back, allowing the kids, families, and folks who really, really wanted to be on T.V. to be up front. I kept an eye on the monitor to see if I could spot me. Waving my arms would do no good as that was the position of everyone directly behind Al. So, I suavely shifted my body from left to right. On the monitor, behind Al's right shoulder, I spied a dark-haired fellow, in a red shirt, carrying a black shoulder strap bag, suavely shifting himself from left to right.
Check "appear on the Today show" off my life's list of things to accomplish.
It's back to the art next week. I have a newsletter starting up very soon and a revamped website set to launch even sooner -- so keep your eyes open for some new and exciting stuff just around the bend.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
Illustration Conference v3

Our small group was led to Grand Central Station for the train ride to the south side of town -- interesting in itself as that was my foray into the subway ride. We were met by the Communications Director who showed and explained their portfolio of work, then toured us around the former nightclub that is now their 5th Avenue office building.
Paula Scher is one of Pentagram's partners and designer of the identity for the 2008 Shakespeare in the Park productions. Throughout Central Park, one can see her wonderful constructionist-inspired posters for Hamlet and Hair -- one of which I've snapped above.
Stanley Hainsworth gave the opening keynote. His soothing voice led us through his travels from acting to creative director positions at Nike, Lego, Starbucks, and his current position at Tether, his own company devoted to all things hand-crafted.
I'm always fascinated by people and what makes them tick. One can read so much into folks if one looks at the details. Mr. Hainsworth was standing at the front of the ballroom, before 400-500 other creative beings, waiting to be introduced. He was hard to miss. The hair along his receding hairline was shaped like what occurs after throwing a large rock into a body of water. Around the edge where the hair met his head, it stood up at a 60-degree angle -- unusual, but totally appropriate. His personal style reflected a sense of ownership of his individuality, reflected in his visual identity -- one which was crafted through curiosity and self-teaching, which is always inspiring to me. He shared his philosophy through an engaging talk -- one in which I took away a renewed sense of ownership to the potential of my career.
The evening then turned to The Palms room where a reception commenced, featuring the all-illustrator band, The Halftones. It co-featured an open bar and lots of mingling.
I was recently watching an HBO documentary on Chuck Connelly, titled, The Art of Failure: Chuck Connelly Not For Sale. Mr. Connelly is an artist whose career arc peaked (so far) in the 80s. This film takes a snapshot of him today, referencing the unlimited potential of his past (he came on the art scene with Julian Schnabel and his hands were doing the painting in the Nick Nolte flick, New York Stories), and paints a character study of a man who seems to have sabotaged his opportunities through an overbearing ego. As a result, he has alienated many of his relationships -- professional or otherwise -- leaving him challenged to make a living as an artist.
Two things I take away from this conference are -- it's about professional tenacity and building relationships. These were two things I knew to be true before I arrived in New York, but one of the virtues of these conferences is they tend to positively confirm, in practice, what I have come to discover on my own, sometimes only in theory. Why is that important if I already knew it? In my opinion, it is always beneficial to physically see the positive results of practice in addition to the theory. I think it tends to give me the push I need to propel my work to another level.
Day 2 coming soon.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Illustration Conference v2

Ah, the start of the conference. Here goes.
The Roadshow was the big happening and one for which I was gearing up. The Roadshow is an event where art directors and art buyers from the New York area are invited to meet artists who have set up space to show their work and promote their services. It's like a mini-trade show.
Setup was at 4pm and the show began at 5pm, with art directors walking in around 5:30pm. I took my material to the Grand Ballroom from my 4th floor room and set up my half of a black-shrouded 2-person table. I met my "neighbors" -- three very nice guys. Then, dressed to kill, behind freshly-pressed brochures, tearsheets, knock-out business cards, and a portfolio consisting of 16 of my latest and greatest, I waited for the action to begin.
Mark Heflin, the man behind the American Illustration-American Photography annuals, and organizer of the Roadshow, welcomed everyone and made a few announcements. In the Ballroom, music played over the sound system and 2 open bars were strategically placed in the far corners of the room, one very close to my table. Banners of the sponsoring organizations -- Adobe, theispot, PRATT, and others hung along the banister of the second floor. The artists, art buyers, and people involved with the illustration industry began to walk the aisles. The goal for us illustrators was to form as many new relationships as possible, preferably with live art buyers. My result -- I made some new connections, said hello to some of my existing connections, and had an overall good response. There was a last push of people as the gates were closing, and folks were attempting to hit any table they may have missed before last-call. I already have ideas for the next Roadshow.
The opening ceremonies were July 3, and I will post about that very soon.
Tuesday, I did some more sightseeing. I hung out at St. Patrick's Cathedral for a bit, got some religion, and then made my way to Rockefeller Center. There is an observatory at the top of the building called the Top of the Rock. In Branson, where I live dangerously close, that is the name of a Jack Nicklaus-designed restaurant/golf course that sits atop a picturesque bluff. In New York, it's the top of Rockefeller Center. I purchased a Rock/MOMA combo ticket, which allowed me to make my way to the observatory and get into the Museum of Modern Art, which I will do next week.
The waiting process was interesting as the history and historical significance of the building was explained in videos. Coincidentally, after the last one, it was my line's turn to board the elevator which would take us up 67 floors in less than 1 minute. In we go. Lights go down. Through the glass ceiling, we see the shaft is lined with blue lights that converge into the distance and fly by as we ascend. Projected on this ceiling are snippets of shows relevant to the building, like Bonanza and Chevy Chase opening Saturday Night Live.
Floors 67-70 are the observation decks, fenced in with 8-10 ft-tall plexiglass barriers to keep us from stumbling over the edge. The view is predictably amazing. A 360-degree view of Manhattan -- curvature of the earth and all.
If I'm away from my studio for more than a few days, I have learned to bring a few art supplies with me. It's better to have some on-hand if a client calls than having to scramble obtaining supplies. I know this is probably a rare practice among illustrators, but I make it a point to be both accessible and available as much as humanly possible. I love what I do and want to be able to help out whenever I can. Even at the Top of the Rock, where I tested the cell-phone signal by checking my voicemail.
As it turns out, an assignment was waiting for me on the other end. A large enough one to necessitate my finding the nearest Best Buy to purchase an inexpensive Epson all-in-one printer/scanner/copier. Coupled with my laptop and Wacom tablet -- which I also thought to bring along for just such an occasion -- half of my hotel room has been now transformed to an office/studio. I wouldn't have it any other way.
The people I talked to got a kick out of it.
More to come.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Illustration Conference v1

I'm taking an unusual approach with my blog over the next couple of weeks. As I write, I'm in NYC for the Illustration Conference -- a big event for illustrators and the illustration industry. It happens every 2-3 years and it's a rare opportunity to bring a widespread group of creative folks together, talk about solutions to pressing issues facing the industry (like copyright and the proposed Orphan Works legislation), provide ideas on how to better run one's business, and generally provide a re-energizing and a creative shot in the arm. Things get going on Wednesday July 2, so today's post is my reacquaintance with the big city and a look at one of the 100 photographs I shot today. It's also a behind-the-scenes look at my thought processes before paint hits canvas.
This ballet dancer was posing at Columbus Circle among the hip hop dancers and Statue-of-Liberty-adorned performance artists. The air hinted of horse, from the carriage rides parked by the curb, and she seemed flush with artistic potential -- great form, lines, lighting, and gestural flow. Her legs were always positioned with toes pointed out. Her posture just ached "ballet dancer." She also had a small entourage of people with her -- one was carrying some bags and one was shooting photographs. She gave a couple of poses for her photographer and then relaxed as they decided what to do next. This down-time is when I like to engage. The candid moments, to me, are often times more interesting than the staged poses. Her guard is let down, she breaks character, and we witness the convergence of the act of being a dancer and the reality of being a human.
With my camera, I walked up and down Broadway and spent a moment at my Mecca -- the Ed Sullivan Theater, where the Letterman show is held and will unfortunately be in repeats the whole time I'm here. I strolled down to Times Square, spent a moment in Central Park, caught a peek at the Empire State Building, and grabbed a couple sidewalk hot dogs.
Coming from a town about the size of the hotel I'm staying in, I always relish returning to the city. I love the pace, the energy, the color, the culture, the diversity...I even love the driving. These people are pros.
It all feeds into my creativity and makes me a better artist.
Stay tuned...
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sudan Scholarship Foundation

Depicted here is a USD graduate by the name of Daniel Akech James, as well as 2 of the beneficiaries of the Sudan Scholarship Foundation, formed by Mr. James.
From its website --
The Sudan Scholarship Foundation (SSF) seeks to help those gifted Sudanese refugee students who have been expelled to drop out from high schools in light of the evacuation of Kakuma refugee camp and other refugee camps by the United Nations Higher Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).
Mr. James works to give educational opportunities to the young people of Sudan in spite of many challenges to his own well-being, which are recounted at his blog. It's very interesting reading, to say the least. If you have a moment, please give it a look, here. USD Magazine did a profile of him and his work by shining a spotlight on his blog. The illustration above accompanies this profile
The artwork painted itself very nicely. I say painted itself, because some illustrations do, while others, equally rewarding, don't come equally as easily. I don't know if it was the right combination of paint and my secret medium, or if the planets were aligned just so, but I remember the brushstrokes and the paint doing just as I wished -- the textures were perfect and the paint lifted out nicely (not easily done with acrylics).
The warmth in the palette lends itself to the positivity of the Foundation, as do the radiant strokes, particularly noticeable behind Daniel.
My next blog entry will be from the Big Apple, as I arrive for the Illustration Conference. I'll have my laptop in-hand, my digital camera in-tow, and my thesaurus packed so as to sufficiently relay the most brilliant adjective for the hopefully non-brick-wall-view from my hotel room.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Barack Obama, Democratic Nominee

Regardless of whether one agrees with his politics, he or she would be hard pressed to successfully deny the historical significance that comes with his nomination. As unremarkable as it should have been, when it became official, I found myself taking a seat to consider its significance, like so many others. It's quite interesting how perception and reality can differ. I wasn't expecting the weight of history to be as heavy as it was on me.
Back to the illustration. It was created in May of 2007 when the 2008 political season was just starting, and Obama was just an intriguing character sneaking into the public consciousness. At that time, most people were putting money on Hillary like she was Big Brown at the Belmont. Da' Tara would go on to win the Belmont Stakes and upset the field.
On another note, I was alerted to Chas Fagan being interviewed on C-SPAN this weekend. Chas is a portrait artist and sculpturist who has done paintings and sculptures of many presidential figures. He was speaking about a Lincoln bust he completed, as part of the Lincoln bicentennial celebration. He was fielding questions that I found very interesting and abnormally relevant to the current docket of assignments on my schedule (which I must keep secret until finalized, but one's a biggie -- for me anyway). Anyone interested in portrait painting and art in general should try to catch it, if you can. Explore Chas' work here.
DNA Capturing Bead

This project called for a colorful illustration of a DNA capturing bead, which is a tool used in genetic sequencing.
One of the reasons I am blogging about this illustration is so I can show off my crafty handiwork. Reference is always key. I'll shoot or acquire photo reference when needed, and if the object of my desired requirement doesn't exist...I'll build it. I happen to have quite a laboratory of foam core items I've built as props. This bead will be perched between my 3-foot high foam and paper missile and my life-size mock test tube rack with complete set of acetate test tubes.
The recipe to craft a DNA capturing bead is thusly: one part 4-inch diameter styrofoam sphere, about 20-30 5-inch long, hand made wire and artist's tape "twist ties," and a sturdy metal rod to act as a stem to the DNA bead "lollipop." Take a screwdriver and twist the wires into curly Q's and other interesting shapes that replicate DNA formations. Be sure to arrange the wire and tape "ties" into an organic, random, yet well-designed composition. Place the rod and composed bead in a glass jar, like a vase propping the creation up. Set up some dramatic lighting, let the shadows do their thing, and be sure to rotate as necessary to explore all angles as you photograph away.
It took a dash into town to reason through and come up with this recipe as I bulldogged my way from aisle to aisle deciding if pipe cleaners, silly straws, or gardening wire would best represent DNA strands. After dumping an armload of weirdness onto the checker's conveyor belt, I hightailed it home to build my bead, shoot it, and prepare two sketches.
The single bead was chosen, and a colorful representation was produced. The freedom was great and the creation turned out kind of cool, I think. It's received some positive reviews, so I thought I would share.
two of my reference photos


my sketches


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