Urban Symposium Panel

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Right after lunch each day there was a panel discussion where instructors from  the Santo Domingo Urban Sketching Symposium would get up in front of the room full of artists and talk about their experiences sketching that day. I had this sketch fairly well layed out when Gabi approached me and asked me to be on the panel. Sigh, I would have to finish the sketch the next day. I sat center stage, sandwiched between the amazing talents of Veronica Lawlor and Nina Johansson. Gabi Campanario, who founded Urban Sketchers, had heard about my run in with the guards at Puerta del Conde and he wanted me to relate the incident. My main point was that it was important to always finish the sketch, come hell or high water. This was the first time that the person who insisted I stop sketching was carrying a gun.

It was incredibly rewarding to hear students from my first workshops relate what resonated with them.  I thought that instructing and standing in front of a room full of piers might be stressful, but the opposite was true, I felt at ease and at home among artists who shared my desire to document and record events by sketching. The next day, I sketched Marc Holmes, Lynne Chapman and Liz Steel into my unfinished sketch from the day before. Lynne, smiled broadly, radiating good humor and Liz had filled an entire sketchbook already. I had taken Marc’s class and it made me realize that it helps to be thrown outside the usual sketching comfort zone when being asked to think about sketching in a different light.

Tea, Milk and Honey

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I’ve long been an admirer of Mark Taro Holmes‘ watercolors, so the first workshop I took was his, Tea, Milk and Honey Watercolor Workshop. The fifteen or so students hiked to the Ruins de San Francisco. The first order of business was to find a shady spot from which to paint the ruins. We couldn’t go inside the structure since it was unsafe. We all sat on some stone steps across the street from the building. Marc wanted us to all follow along as he went through the steps, doing a study of a stone window on the ruins. I admired his set up which consisted of a camera tripod on which he mounted a flat board and an arm which held his large palette.

Rather than follow along, I watched intently as he mixed colors and applied washes. The first step, pour the tea, consisted of light washes of local color. That first step had to dry before the second step, a touch of milk, which involved only adding semi-opaque paint to the shadow shapes. The third pass, sweeten with honey, involved thick gel-like paint added to emphasize contact shadows. A woman walked past the ruins with a basket of bananas balanced on her head and a mule pulled a wagon laden with a whole family. As we all worked, a lively basketball game began on the court behind us. Sometimes the ball would go out of bounds, bouncing into an artist who would then toss it back.

I lost interest in the ruins and turned around to sketch the animated game. There was plenty of arguing, all in Spanish of course. Players became aware that I was sketching them and they stopped on occasion to see my progress. One little boy obviously wanted to be in the sketch and I pointed to the player shooting the basketball. It was a little white lie, but it made him happy. A little girl would pick up my brush or pencil anytime I dropped it. She was very attentive.

After we were all done, we assembled on the steps for a group photo. The workshop forced me away from using line to define shapes. For me a light bulb turned on as the sketch became more about painting.

Puerta del Conde

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For the afternoon, Capturing the Event Workshop, I invited students to sketch on the city block leading to Puerta del Conde or inside the Puerta. I leaned against a pole and worked on the view down the street to the fort. The street bustled with merchants selling everything from sun glasses to art. The tropically themed art all looked the same as if it was pumped out of a factory. One of the sketchers can be seen working in the lower right hand corner of my sketch. I knew that two other sketchers were seated on the benches at the next light post down the road. The remaining sketchers went inside Puerte del Conde to sketch.

Residents of Santo Domingo were curious and inquisitive. Once one person stopped to look over my shoulder, there would soon be a crowd. Questions would be fired my way, but all I could do is shrug and say “No Espanole.” In a way, not knowing the language was a major advantage in that I didn’t have to interrupt the sketch to answer questions. I didn’t feel rude working away as they talked amongst themselves.

As I was finishing up my sketch, the students came as a group to let me know that the monument had been shut down before they finished sketching. I looked down the street and sure enough, an iron gate blocked the arched entry. I gathered up the remaining sketchers and we all put our sketchbooks on the street to compare notes. It was a strong afternoon’s work. What a delight to mentor such talented sketchers. A musician started playing guitar behind me and a coconut merchant hacked open coconuts with a machete. The events were there to be found but my sketch was done and I was hungry for dinner.

Capturing the Event

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I was teaching two workshops on the second day of the Urban Sketching Symposium in Santo Domingo. I had seven students for the morning class and we all met at the Centro Cultural de Espana. A sheet of letter sized paper with a bold letter B was taped to the wall. So we could find one another.

My  morning workshop, Capturing the Event, was less about technique and  more about how to make Urban Sketching a daily habit. I’m convinced that artists have a roll in making others aware of the communities in which they live. My most important lesson was that you always have to finish the sketch, no matter what happens. I offered several examples of incidents in which people tried to interrupt the sketch but I still managed to get the sketch done. We walked along the water front and through the stoned streets of the historic city towards the workshop site.

The Workshop took place in Parque Independencia which is a fortification at the end of El Conde Street. There was a monument inside with three large sculptures reminiscent of the Lincoln Memorial in DC. It was a hot day so I advised everyone to find shade. Barbara Boulter, (BJ) and I were drawn to the stoic guard at the entrance. BJ knew some Spanish so she asked if it was OK for her to borrow a chair. I had my own chair so I sat opposite her in the shade of the large stone arch facing the guard. I noticed two officers in camouflaged military fatigues arguing in the background. Then one of them approached me and started gesturing and speaking quickly in Spanish. I didn’t understand a word, so I kept sketching. Through his hand gestures, I became vaguely aware that they must have had a problem with my chair. I then stood and continued to sketch. The senior officer seemed to be loosing patience with me. Finally one of my students, Natali Ovalles, a native of Santo Domingo, came over and translated.

Apparently there was some issue with my being visible from the street outside the fort. It was perceived as a breach of security. BJ was seated in a small alcove which hid her from passers by. With Natali translating, I negotiated for a spot from which I could draw. I sat diagonal to BJ and sketched the stoic guard from behind. The armed guard who had made me move stood behind me the whole time and watched every line that went on the page. A cannon was aimed out over the historic city. The bottom line is that I got the sketch done. Our group assembled near some park benches and compared notes. Kalina Wilson asked pointed questions that helped me further outline my thoughts as I execute each sketch. Minus the run in with armed guards, it was a fun first class. In this case, capturing the event, became the main event.

Urban Sketching Symposium Day 1

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Upon landing in Santo Domingo I had to get a $10 Tourist card and then navigate through customs. Orling “Arty” Dominguez had arranged for a ride to the hotel which was a blessing since I don’t know a lick of Spanish. This was the first time I’ve ever hoped to find someone holding a sign with my name on it. There was quite a crowd lining the entry to the airport. After much hunting and a quick call to Orling, I found a young woman with a sign that said, “Thor.”

The road from the airport to the hotel snaked along the black lava rock coastline.  There were occasional water blow holes.  The cinder block roadside shacks and bodegas reminded me of Panama. The local driver wasn’t that familiar with the one way roads throughout the historic district, so we got quite a tour as he drove a Nautilus shell pattern towards the hotel. Within an hour of getting settled in the air conditioned hotel room, I had to find my way to Centro Cultural de España for an instructors meeting.

There was a swag bag full of donated sketchbooks from Strathmore, Canson and Stillman & Birn. A map showing where each of the workshops would be held, was a major help. People would meet at the Centro Cultural and then hike out to the workshop locations.

After the meeting, Lapin pulled me aside and asked if he could draw me. I was surprised with how close he wanted to sit as he sketched. We sketched each other and I was surprised that he finished before me. Getting to watch him work was a major thrill. Later that evening there was a Portrait Party, Ice-breaker at Quintana Bar, (C/ Atarazana #13, Zona Colonial, In front of Plaza Espana.) We all sat in an outdoor courtyard, adding more chairs and tables as artists arrived. The waitress did a good job with the first round of drinks, but soon she couldn’t keep up with the demand. About one hundred artists were signed up for the Symposium and I swear they all tried to squeeze into that small courtyard. It was incredibly exciting to be around artists whose work I have admired for so long.

Airport Delay

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Airport delays are always an opportunity to sketch. It seems that most people consider it an opportunity to stare at iPhones or iPads. I assume they are reading a good book. The semi-mirrored windows reflected the interior scene  when the tarmac was dark. One at a time, these Korean tourists scouted out something to eat. They returned with hot dogs and other meat-like products. Four people were waiting on stand by to get on the very crowded flight. One young girl was very anxious since she needed to get to a wedding.

When the plane finally started boarding, it was from the back rows to the front. I was in row six, so I was one of the last passengers on the plane. Flying over the Dominican Republic, I saw large organized grids of palm forests.  The island was lush and green. The plane was approaching the airport on the southern shore of the island so I got a closer view of the changing landscape. The air was hazy from human influence. Many cinder block buildings had rusty metal roofs, many of which were blown off probably from a hurricane. When the plane landed at the Santo Domingo Airport, everyone on board cheered. let the Urban Sketching Symposium begin!

Jet Blue Flight 1717

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My wife Terry dropped me off at the Orlando International Airport two hours early to get through security and wait for my Jet Blue flight to Santo Domingo. 100 artists from around the world were gathering there for the Third International Urban Sketching Symposium. I was fortunate enough to be selected as one of the ten instructors. My workshop would be called “Capturing the Event.” All my course materials were tucked away in my carry on.

This is probably the calmest scene I sketched during the week of the symposium, as flight 1717 fueled up and prepared for boarding.  The flight took just about two hours flying south to the Dominican Republic. For the in flight snack, I grabbed a bag of animal crackers and I tried to identify each species before I bit off its head or legs. Each seat back had TV screens with 35 stations and three movies playing. I pushed the buttons on my arm rest and decided to watch The Lorax without sound. This Dr. Seuss animated feature was easy to follow even without the dialogue. Watching a film without sound let me focus on how scenes are composed, staged and lit. When I wasn’t watching the screen, I was watching the gorgeous cathedral like cloud formations.

Bark at the Park Night

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Fans were encouraged to bring their dogs to the ball park for Bark at the Park Night Sunday July 21st sponsored by Pet Rescue by Judy. I went to Alfond Stadium, (801 Orange Avenue, Winter Park), where the Winter Park Diamond Dawgs played against the Sanford River Rats. This Collegiate Summer League game featured the most talented of the college players that could be drafted to the big leagues. Between the parking lot and the first base line, tents had been set up where vendors offered pet supplies for all the dogs that came out to the ball park. Dogs were everywhere. A retriever lounged in a kiddie pool wearing a red white and blue cardboard top hat. In ten minutes the game was going to start so I found a seat in the stands.

I could hear the announcer behind me and seconds later his delayed voice boomed and sizzled through the muffled sound system. A few fans had taken their dogs into the stands. As I sketched, the sun burst out from behind some clouds and I cursed myself for not having my baseball cap. I shielded my eyes with my left hand. The sun slowly set behind the left field fence with the clouds rimmed in orange. Then the outfield lights flickered on. There were several home runs and the score was much higher than most pro games. I paid close attention to the pitcher’s wind up. A Pomeranian yipped in his owners lap.

I enjoyed the silly kids games between innings. Two boys had to place their foreheads on the end of a bat and spin around it 5 times then run to the finish line. One boy fell as he spun and they both stumbled off balance towards the finish line. Then there was the chicken toss, where rubber chickens had to be tossed into baskets. And of course the sixth inning stretch where all the fans stood and sang Take Me Out to the Ball Game.  The announcer asked trivia questions like, What breed of dog do you get if you cross a Golden Retriever with a Poodle. The answer was Golden Doodle. The winner of the evenings raffle would win half the money from raffle ticket sales and a Winter Park Team autographed baseball.

Heat lightning flashed on the horizon in the clouds behind the outfield fences as the teams entered the 9th inning. A dog barked loudly when the catcher had to leap to catch a stray ball. The Diamond Dawgs won easily 12 to 7 against the River Rats. Peanut shells littered the stands as everyone filed out of the stadium. It’s been a long time since I enjoyed the church of baseball.

Jazz at the White House

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The Civic Minded 5 presented reed player Trevor Watts and pianist Veryan Weston, a longtime duo and storied members of the British improv scene at the Timucua White House, (
2000 South Summerlin).  This free concert presented cutting edge new jazz, where mastery met sensibility and the joy of the moment. The visual artist for the evening was going to be Martha Jo Mahoney, but she couldn’t make it. Bernie Martin was working on a watercolor at stage right and I was sketching in the balcony so the visual arts were represented. I was surrounded  by a family who took some interest in what I was doing. I recognized the husband but couldn’t quite place him. Finally after a short conversation, I realized it was Mark Simon, who wrote a book called Storyboards, Motion in Art. I have that book in my art library and refer to it anytime I get a storyboard assignment. What a small world. This was the first time Mark and his family attended a Timucua concert. They were in for an explosive, experimental treat.

The music was edgy and on the verge of  pure cacophony. As I worked, I realized I didn’t have a rag to wipe off my brushes. I used the sketch itself to wipe clean the brush. I worked in a frenzy driven by the music and the panic of the moment. Both performers had thick grey hair that swept around the back of their skulls reminiscent of friendly poltergeist clowns. I’m considering growing my own grey  lion’s mane to duplicate this bohemian look.

After the concert people socialized around snacks and wines in the entry foyer. I caught up with Wendy Wallenburg, who helps out at the social hour, and her friends, Sarah Austin and Nikki Mier.  Nikki suggested I should start wearing outlandish clothes as a fashion statement so people can spot me at events.  I still prefer to blend in with the wallpaper. Elaine Corriveu, who is Benoit Glazer‘s wife, and the hostess for the evening, wanted to see my sketch. I honestly believe she appreciates what I do. If you haven’t been to the White House, then you are missing out on a gem of the local music scene.

Take Your Blinders Off

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Julie Gros let me know that a Vegan Outreach organization was showing a documentary about the horrors of meat production facilities. I stumbled across the pickup truck mobile theater as I was walking around Lake Eola on my way to another event. I had to sketch. Julie was there along with five or six other people who handed out fliers and offered people passing by vegan fudge. The mobile video truck was parked across the street from Publix Supermarket.

The Meat Video showed actual footage from factory farms. It was narrated by James Cromwell. I warn you that the video is brutal and hard to watch. Also, there were clips from Earthlings Film, set to music by local musician, Dani Shay. I must have watched the films like ten times as I worked on the sketch. It made me think I should consider a vegan diet. I’m considering starting another blog called, Vegan Artist in a Carnivorous World.

Some people walking past the screening averted their eyes. Others stood for a while to talk to volunteers. One man walking past with his family shouted out “You are all *ssh*lls!” A volunteer shouted back, “Nice language in front of your children!” I don’t know how many people were influenced by the screenings, but having taken the time to look, I am certainly considering making more compassionate choices when it comes to my diet.