art materials

This is the t-shirt I paint in most of the time. As you can see, I often wipe my brush or palette knife on the shirt as I work.

Also of interest

• Whites (4)
• Update on Robert Doak (1)
• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• The Velázquez palette (3)

Once again, I’m harvesting an email question to provide material for this blog.

A muller is a tool, generally made from glass, used to grind paint (and sometimes pigments). The surface of the muller (and the slab it’s used to grind on, if that is glass) gets ground smooth over time. So it needs to be re-frosted.

Matthew writes:

I have a glass muller in which I grind my own pigments. Lately it has become quite dull so I started to research information on reconditioning the muller. I found that carorundum (silicon carbide or skateboard paper) is supposed to bring it back to life. I used sand paper but I have no idea where to get corborundum from…

can you give me any alternatives?

I use carborundum powder, which I got from Sinopia. Use your muller to grind a small amount in water and it will re-frost the glass.

Also of interest

• Keeping oil paint fresh (5)
• Whites (4)
• Update on Robert Doak (1)
• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)

Sanguine is a hematite chalk used in Renaissance drawing. Michaelangelo’s preparatory drawings in sanguine are stunning.

Over at Lines and Colors, there’s a post on sanguine drawing. There’s also a link to this brief tutorial.

Also of interest

• Whites (4)
• Update on Robert Doak (1)
• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• The Velázquez palette (3)

Miles Mathis has posted an extended commentary on some painting practices advocated by William Whitaker. He objects to some of Whitaker’s painting methods and materials, and I thought I would comment what he’s written.

Before I do, I should point out that Mr. Mathis is, so far as I can tell, a professional artist who supports himself with his very good paintings. I, by contrast, am no more than a wannabee. On that basis, he has and deserves far more credibility than I. He is, however, commenting on the practices of another professional artist of at least equal stature (and fairly similar artistic style). It is certainly true that some professional artists throughout history have used ill-advised materials and painting methods. In any event, either Mr. Whitaker is right or Mr. Mathis is right on any of these issues (or they are both wrong) and I, lowly hobbyist that I am, will attempt to compare one to the other against my own limited experience. (CONTINUED) ⇒

Also of interest

• The Velázquez palette (3)
• Tad Spurgeon (0)
• Glazing (25)
• You say “sfumah-to,” I say “sfumay-to” (0)
• Whites (4)

Here’s a site that’s all about making your own paint.

Also of interest

• Whites (4)
• Update on Robert Doak (1)
• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• The Velázquez palette (3)

If you’re going to paint with oils, the simplest approach is just to go to an art or craft store, buy some stretched primed canvases, and paint on those. So far as I can tell, that’s what most people do, because it doesn’t involve any work or thought, and you can get a canvas pretty cheaply.

That’s not what I normally do. I don’t like painting on acrylic primer. (Which is usually, and misleadingly, labeled “gesso.” As I’ve said before, real gesso is made with hide glue and chalk or gypsum, not plastic.) Acrylic primer is rough on brushes because it has abrasives in it to provide tooth. Without those abrasives, it would be much too smooth, and the paint wouldn’t stick to it. It is also too “chattery” for my taste. By that I mean that the paint doesn’t flow as smoothly as I would like it to. Most acrylic-primed canvas is primed too thinly; it would be better if they applied another layer or two of primer. Some artists add more acrylic primer themselves, and that’s an improvement. But it’s still just acrylic primer. It is not fully clear whether oil paint on acrylic primer has good long-term archival properties. It is better than oil painting over acrylic paint, because the abrasives in the primer allow better mechanical adhesion between paint layers, but it has not yet proved itself over the long term. (CONTINUED) ⇒

Also of interest

• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• The Velázquez palette (3)
• The classical palette (0)
• Tad Spurgeon (0)

In comments, Mae writes,

i have just bought pigment powder and am preparing wood (with gesso) to make an icon type painting…can you give me any tips on mixing egg tempera…the type of oil etc.

Prepare pigments as follows: while wearing a dust mask, use a palette knife or spoon to transfer each pigment to a small glass jar (baby food jars work great if you first boil them for 20 minutes to remove bacteria). Add distilled water. Put the cap on the jar and shake. You now have a pigment paste. Take the mask off, since there isn’t any more pigment dust to worry about.

Separate an egg yolk into another jar. Add about a teaspoon of distilled water and mix. To make egg tempera paint, mix about equal amounts of the egg mixture with pigment paste.

This is classic egg tempera of the sort that is used to make ikons (I’m pretty sure about that, but I am no expert on ikon painting). You can add other substances to it (oils, resins, etc.), but I suggest you learn to paint with just yolk, water, and pigment before you try to experiment with more complex mixtures.

Have fun.

Also of interest

• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• The smell of earths (0)
• The classical palette (0)
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I’ve said previously that the belief by some artists that the color black is somehow harmful to pictures is silly. There are many pigments that I don’t happen to use, but I don’t think that you’ll harm your paintings if you use them.

The anti-black bias seems particularly odd when you consider artists like Leonardo, Velázquez, Rembrandt, or Caravaggio. All of them used lots and lots of black. Although they had more limited palettes than we do, they certainly could have mixed darks without black. In other words, their extensive use of black was their choice. I don’t see anyone painting today who could reasonably say to Rembrandt, “if you would only skip the black, your paintings could be as good as mine.” But there are plenty of art teachers today who tell their students that they should never, ever, use black. If you have a teacher who tells you that, you should consider whether their other advice is equally nonsensical. (CONTINUED) ⇒

Also of interest

• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• Tad Spurgeon (0)
• Online workshop: Renaissance Italian painting (3)
• Oil painting without solvents (32)
• Never use a brush smaller than your head (0)

Here are two swatches of ultramarine blue. The one on the left is in egg tempera. The one on the right is Doak’s ultramarine blue medium oil paint. Both are mixed with titanium white at the bottom. It’s not as obvious in this photo as it is in real life that the tempera is lighter and higher in chroma. A number of pigments, especially earths, are brighter in tempera.

Also of interest

• The classical palette (0)
• Pthalo pigments (9)
• The Velázquez palette (3)
• Online workshop: Renaissance Italian painting (3)
• Making gesso, part 2 (0)

There are a number of oil painting mediums based on synthetic substances called alkyds. Alkyds can also be used as a binder for paints, but I’m specifically talking about mediums made for mixing with regular oil paint. These include Liquin, Galkyd, Neo-Meglip, and a number of other products.

Although they are popular, I don’t use them, for several reasons.

1. I don’t think they’ve been around long enough to prove themselves. While the first popular alkyd medium, Liquin from Winsor Newton, has been around for decades, it has apparently been reformulated several times. So we don’t know what modern alkyds do to paintings, exactly.
2. I have heard a few (not many, but a few) reports of delamination in multi-layer painting that artists have blamed on alkyds. It appears that under some circumstances, one layer of oil paint containing alkyd medium may not reliably adhere to another layer of paint containing alkyd medium. This issue is probably not a concern for for single-layer alla prima painting. If you do choose to use alkyd mediums in multi-layer painting, my recommendation is to reconsider. But if you do choose to willfully ignore my excellent advice, you should at least scuff the dried paint in between layers with a kitchen scrubee pad to encourage mechanical adhesion.
3. I like using traditional painting materials. I use some modern pigments, but I don’t like using modern binders or mediums. That’s just me.
4. I don’t particularly like the way the couple of alkyd mediums I’ve tried handled.
5. I hate the way they smell. It’s not a strong odor, but it’s insidious. Compared to, say, Canada balsam and oil of spike (one of the best smells in the world), alkyds smell like a distant petroleum refinery.
6. Used excessively, alkyd mediums can cause yellowing. So do many of the more traditional mediums, of course, but alkyds do not have “don’t discolor” as an advantage. As with any additive to oil paint, only a very small amount of alkyd medium should be used.
7. It’s hard to say whether alkyds are “fat” or “lean.” Fat mediums dry slowly and are relatively flexible. Lean mediums dry quickly and are more rigid. Alkyds dry quickly and are flexible. In multiple-layer painting, the rapid drying of alkyds could cause problems when used with other, slower-drying, fat mediums. If you use alkyd mediums in multi-layer painting, my recommendation is to use the same medium formulation throughout the painting, simply using a bit more from one layer to the next. Don’t use other mediums as you go.
8. Some artists seem to use alkyd mediums mainly for their property of causing the paint to dry more quickly. If that’s what you are looking for, there are a number of more technically sound methods.

Although they are cheap and easily accessible, I don’t see any particular advantage that alkyd mediums have that might balance out these concerns. If you are using mediums correctly, the amount that goes into any painting is so small that the expense of even a relatively expensive bottle of medium is miniscule. I admit that I’m a bit of a painting materials snob, but I’m OK with that. In my view, alkyd mediums are the fast food of oil painting. They are cheap and you can get them almost anywhere, but they aren’t very good for you.

I have heard of some artists who become so enamored of alkyds that they use them as a medium and also as a final varnish. That’s an especially bad idea, as most of the companies that make alkyd mediums will tell you. If used as a varnish, alkyd mediums may cause yellowing. Also, it will not later be possible to remove the varnish when cleaning the picture, which is a critical property for a varnish to have.

Update

1/31/07: rewrote with some additional information.

Also of interest

• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• The Velázquez palette (3)
• The classical palette (0)
• Tad Spurgeon (0)

Painters can be very particular about their palettes. For oil painting, I like to use a wooden arm palette. I’ve found that the best preparation is a method traditionally used in woodworking called French polishing. This method provides a tough, smooth surface that is not soluble in oil, turps, mineral spirits, or any of the other solvents used in oil painting. It’s easy to clean. Hardened oil paint, if necessary, can be quickly removed with a green kitchen scrubee pad soaked in turps or mineral spirits. The paint sticks well to the palette without resisting the brush or the palette knife.

Get yourself a new wooden palette and sand down any splinters or imperfections. Make sure it fits your hand well. You will need some fresh shellac; the stuff you get at a furniture store will do. You could also make your own by dissolving dry shellac flakes in denatured alcohol. You will need some denatured alcohol for cleaning up, a one-foot square of lint-free cloth, preferably linen, and a small amount of linseed oil. Fold the cloth into a convenient size—about 2” is good. Dip the pad in shellac and wipe it over the surface of the palette, covering thoroughly and evenly. Pour a small amount of linseed oil onto the surface of your cloth. While the shellac is still tacky, rub the cloth over the surface of the palette in a circular motion. With a little practice, you get a sense of how to do this so that the shellac is spread smoothly and pressed into the wood. Let the palette dry enough so that the shellac is it no longer tacky (15 minutes or so). Apply and then polish another layer, and another, and another, until the palette has a surface that feels sufficiently thick (I apply about 8-10 layers). It is beautifully smooth.

If the surface of your palette eventually gets damaged by repeated scraping, you can remove the old shellac with denatured alcohol and apply a new French polish. In three years of heavy use, I haven’t yet had to do that.

Also of interest

• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• The Velázquez palette (3)
• The color theory palette (2)
• The classical palette (0)

I keep most of my raw pigments in small glass jars, mixed into a paste with distilled water. Did you know that earth pigments have a smell? Of course they do; when you mix them with water, you get a sort of mud, and mud has a smell. The earths have a deep, loamy smell that makes me think of the first artists painting brilliantly and expressively with ochres on cave walls.

Also of interest

• Ultramarine in tempera and oil (4)
• The classical palette (0)
• Tempera grassa 2 (0)
• Tempera grassa 1 (9)
• Pthalo pigments (9)

I am fortunate in having no particular sensitivity to the aromatic solvents such as spirits of turpentine and oil of spike often used in oil painting. I take reasonable precautions while painting to avoid overexposure and ensure good ventilation.

Some people are specifically sensitive to spirits of turpentine, but are able to use alternate solvents such as oil of spike. Others are very sensitive to aromatic solvents, but are able to tolerate modified substances such as odorless mineral spirits. (I don’t like using OMS with oil paints because I don’t like the way they interact with paint. I also have a slight skin sensitivity to mineral spirits.) Note that not all spirits of turpentine are the same. Most modern gum turpentines are made from boiled tree stumps, which makes a nasty-smelling product. Look for stuff that doesn’t have a foul odor.

But there are some individuals who just can’t be around any of the solvents that are useful for oil painting. And even people with no sensitivity may find themselves taking a class or in some other situation in which solvents are not allowed. I think it’s useful, therefore, to discuss strategies for working with oil paint without solvents.

I’d first like to note that, for the first 100 years of oil painting, there is scant evidence of solvent use. Paintings from that period often exhibit very fine detail, demonstrating that just about any sort of painting in oil is possible without solvents. Since those paintings have often lasted very well (without excessive cracking or yellowing), it also demonstrates that multi-layered solvent-free painting can be done without having to dilute the paint with excessive oil or by egregiously violating the principle of fat over lean. (CONTINUED) ⇒

Also of interest

• Doak’s cristallo medium (5)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)
• Tad Spurgeon (0)
• Online workshop: Renaissance Italian painting (3)
• Never use a brush smaller than your head (0)

One way to put together a palette is to deliberately use just a few colors of paint. A limited palette is any group of six or fewer paints (plus white) chosen for how harmoniously they mix with each other. rather than a color theory palette selected for a wide range of hues and the highest possible chroma. Limited palettes often focus on earth colors, since they harmonize well together. They usually include paints from the warm side and the cool side of the hue circle (although the cool may just be a black) and often make use of mixing complements.

Any small grouping of paint colors will do. Here are a few useful limited palettes:

• Burnt sienna and ultramarine blue.
• Raw sienna and ultramarine blue.
• Yellow ochre, alizarin crimson, and black.
• Yellow ochre, alizarin crimson, burnt umber, and black.
• Yellow ochre, alizarin crimson, ultramarine blue, burnt sienna, and black.
• Cadmium red and black.
• Black (and white).
• Black and burnt umber (and white).

(Note that you can substitute a more lightfast substitute for alizarin crimson, such as pyrol ruby.)

As you can see, with these palettes there are hues and chromas that can’t be mixed, only suggested. Often, by using warm/cool contrasts, you can create the impression of colors that aren’t actually there. The classic example is creating the illusion of bright blue eyes using only a mixed grey from black and white, by placing warm yellows, reds, and oranges nearby. Many master figure painters juxtapose warm flesh tones with colors that look cool, but are actually warm/neutral. In doing so they often make deliberate use of a very limited set of paints. Because you are using so few colors, you become intimately familiar with how each of your few paints mixes with each of the others, and how various mixtures work when set against each other.

The lessened range of hue and chroma that are characteristic of a limited palette create a sense of harmony. Each part of the painting is consistent with every other part, and a group of paintings made with the same limited set of colors makes a series that is obviously related. It is harder to achieve realism with a limited palette, but once you are comfortable with a certain limited palette it can be surprising how seldom that seems like a serious limitation.

When selecting the particular paints to use, be aware that not all “raw siennas” are the same. Paints labeled identically by different manufacturers can have radically different masstone, undertone, color mixing, transparency, or other characteristics. That is particularly true with earth colors, which are often really synthetic oxides these days. So if you get used to having ultramarine blue and burnt sienna work beautifully together, you may find that if you switch brands (or even get a different batch) that wonderful balance of color isn’t quite so perfect. If you find a perfect paint, you may want to get an extra couple of tubes, because that perfection may not be available forever.

Also of interest

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• Color and color mixing (20)
• Whites (4)
• The Velázquez palette (3)
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So I called up Robert Doak over the Summer to order some paint. As he does, he asked me about how I paint and started suggesting additional things for me to buy (he’s a very good salesman). One of the things he pushed was his new medium, “cristallo.” At $12 USD for a 40 ml tube I decided to splurge and pick some up.

Mr. Doak says that the primary ingredients in cristallo are leaded glass powder and sun-thickened walnut oil. It also contains small amounts of cold-pressed walnut oil, beeswax, and lead drier. It is based on recent research indicating that 16th century Venetian painters added more powdered glass to their paint than was previously thought, although he makes no claim that this is the “rediscovered” medium of Titian, Giorgione, and Tintoretto. He suggests that it is best used by spreading it thinly onto the surface and painting into it. He also suggests that it is a good replacement for varnish on a dried painting, but I am dubious about that application and have not tried it.

I’ve now painted with it, off and on, for a few months. It is a sort of thick, colorless fluid, about the consistency of ketchup. It is not sticky the way mediums containing resins, balsams, or stand oil tend to be. It is easy to spread very thinly onto the painting surface with a finger (you can feel a slight granularity from the glass powder, but it is barely perceptible) and it becomes more fluid as you move it around (i.e., it is somewhat thixotropic). It is nice to paint on, providing a pleasant, slippery quality to the painting surface. Mixed into paint, it dilutes it slightly and gives it extra brushability. It doesn’t hold brush marks. It does not seem to markedly increase or decrease the drying time of oil paint. So far, I like it. It does not make the paint magically transparent or luminous, but I didn’t expect it to.

If you do use cristallo or any other painting medium, add only very small amounts to your paint—never more than 20% of paint volume and preferably much less than that.

Also of interest

• Oil painting without solvents (32)
• Keeping oil paint fresh (5)
• Where to find medium supplies (7)
• Update on Robert Doak (1)
• Three ways to use oil painting mediums (0)