Plaster – Dayna J Collins

A New Gallery For Me!

I’m delighted to share the news that my art is in a new gallery (and in a new state). I was invited by the owner of Fogue Gallery, Kerry Gates, to display my art at this lovely Georgetown gallery, located about four miles south of downtown Seattle. Georgetown is a lively and funky neighborhood, with several art galleries, numerous restaurants, eclectic shops, and the Georgetown Trailer Mall.

Last month, Howard and I made the drive north to the gallery to hang my art on a beautiful, freshly painted white wall, where we hung five of my oil and cold wax paintings.

The second Saturday of every month is Georgetown’s Art Attack, so we got a room at the Georgetown Inn and attended our first art walk. What a blast!

I got to see my friend Kathleen, who has been a longtime artist at the gallery, and she was gracious enough to introduce me to several of the other artists showing their work in the gallery.

Our oldest daughter lives in Tacoma and she drove up to show her support and cheer me on.

What an evening.

A tiny peek at Georgetown in case you’ve never been . . .

And my biggest thanks goes to my husband, Howard, who does ALL of the behind the scenes work like wiring, inventory, cataloging, schlepping, hanging, adjusting lights, and color coordinating his clothes to match my art.

The next Georgetown Art Attack is Saturday, March 12. I’ll be there, so stop by and say hello.

Colorful and Dynamic Abstracted Landscapes

It felt good to be back teaching at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology. Last year my workshop was cancelled due to the pandemic and I hadn’t signed up to teach this year because of the uncertainty with Covid. As cases began falling earlier this summer, Sitka’s Program Manager, Tamara, reached out to see if I would be interested in teaching a workshop in September. I jumped at the opportunity. As the workshop date approached, I watched as Covid cases once again surged. I was a little nervous about teaching, but Sitka had worked hard to provide a safe place with lots of protocols already in place. A couple weeks before my workshop, I asked Sitka to cap the class at eight students, to ensure that there would be plenty of space between tables in the studio.

Ready for class to start on Monday morning.

I could write about the week of art-making, the learning, the techniques, the epiphanies, the experimentation, the fearlessness, the laughter, the great energy, the hard work . . . . but instead I’m going to do a photo essay, which I think captures the essence of preparation and our week together.

The studio all set up and filled with so much promise.

Waking up on Monday morning in my little cabin in the woods.

A brand new gallon of Gamblin’s Cold Wax and a fresh pair of gloves. Yes, please.

Little scraps of paper as inspiration for colors, design, or just to jump start our imaginations.

Tam brought me flowers to match my hair.

Doing a demo using plaster (an added bonus).

Plaster demo was an added bonus, sharing how to seal the dried and sanded plaster.

Working, strolling, getting started for the day.

Loretta establishing her color palette for the day.

Loretta’s palette. I wonder why I love this so much.

Margaret fell in love with this wonky old roller.

The evening glow at the end of a day of painting.

Heidi getting the hang of making beautiful marks.

Paintings drying outside in the fresh air.

So many works in progress and the beautiful hum of activity.

I love working in the studio after class . . . .

Tam playing with Transparent Orange glazes. Kapow.

Doing a demo on mounting Arches Oil Paper to a cradled birch panel.

Group photo on a beautiful September afternoon.

Thank you to R&F Handmade Paints for donating pigment sticks and allowing everyone to go home with different colors.

Karla discusses some of her work on our final afternoon.

Margaret discusses some of her completed work.

Lynn discusses her work on our final afternoon.

Nancy does whatever is necessary to get the good shot.

Some of the work created during the week. . . . .

My heart is full and I am feeling grateful.

Artist in Residence At Home

I declared the past eight days an Artist in Residency, self proclaimed because my husband hopped on a jet for the east coast to visit his nieces and I had eight days to myself. I often hem and haw, do a little of this, a little of that, throw in a load of laundry, check out Instagram, read emails . . . . before heading to my studio. Last week I still did some of those things, but I made it a priority to get into my studio. It was a little easier last week not because Howard was gone, well, that was part of it, but because of the oppressive heat. My painting studio is upstairs in our 1926 house so the old furnace ducting doesn’t allow the air conditioned air to reach the second floor, making the upstairs pretty unbearable by noon.

So I made it my mission to get up there every morning and do something, anything. I had a productive week, getting a few things out of the way that I needed to do, but more than that, I painted. I painted just for the joy of painting and spreading paint.

On the first morning, I did a warm up using scraps of brown paper bags from my recent #100dayproject. It felt good to revisit being playful and loose while painting on unimportant little bits of paper.

Then I got to work. One of my projects was to simply gesso a stack of boards for a class I’m taking in July.

I spent a little time most days painting with acrylic on a repurposed canvas and recording my progress.

I prepped panels with plaster, which required multiple steps: acrylic, plaster, sanding, sealing . . . .

I wove these steps into my mornings, allowing things to dry overnight, ready to tackle the next day. One morning I did a reset in my studio, moving things around on my collection of rolling carts, causing a traffic jam at one point.

I was finally ready to pull out the oil and cold wax and start painting. Home again. . . . the smell of the wax, the feel of the materials as I mixed and spread the buttery concoction . . . .

Many layers of oil and cold wax were applied. It was a time of experimentation, to play, to try out different ideas. I finished a few, several are still in process. Some are on boards, some are on Arches oil paper.

I recommend an Artist in Residence . . . at home.

Boutique Hotel + My Art = A Beautiful Collaboration

Reflection photo taken from our balcony, with the river in the background.

Back in the fall of 2019, I was invited to show my art in a new hotel in Independence, Oregon, a small town about 15 minutes from Salem and across the Willamette River. The hotel, The Independence, was along the river and wanted to feature local artists and makers. I painted three paintings with the hotel in mind and its location along the river.

Working on two of the pieces for The Independence Hotel.

Adding more layers to “Patterns Revealed Themselves.”

“It Smelled Like the End of Summer” drying on our upstairs bathtub.

The three paintings for the hotel, oil and cold wax over plaster, and 30×40 inches each, were delivered in November, 2019. A reception was planned for the end of March, 2020.

And then the pandemic hit and everything was cancelled.

Fast forward to May, 2021, and we were finally able to visit the hotel and see my art in place. The hotel invited us to stay, so last week we planned a two night staycation. It was lovely to only drive 15 minutes to reach our destination, and what a beautiful destination.

The beautiful lobby.

Into the elevator and down the hallway . . .

Arrival on the third floor.

A special treat and thank you for staying.

Standing on our balcony, looking down the Willamette River toward Salem.

As soon as we were settled, we took off to visit my art.

Seeing my painting for the first time: 2nd floor elevator lobby.

“Patterns Revealed Themselves,” 30×40 inches, oil and cold wax over plaster. This painting is for sale and available.

Howard exploring “Remnants of Morning Mist.”

“Remnants of Morning Mist,” 30×40 inches, oil and cold wax over plaster; located on the 4th floor elevator lobby. This painting is for sale and available.

Visiting “It Smelled Like the End of Summer,” 30×40 inches, oil and cold wax over plaster, located on the 3rd floor elevator lobby. This painting is for sale and available.

The next thing we did was to grab kombuchas and head to the rooftop patio.

Afternoon kombucha on the rooftop patio.

Then we did a little exploring in downtown Independence.

A nice little antique store in downtown Independence.

Independence has a great used bookstore on Main Street.

Exploring Riverview Park in Independence.

What a lovely location and a beautiful hotel.

In preparation for our visit, The Independence Hotel interviewed me and posted the interview on their blog. Here’s a LINK.

Coming next month, a visit to The Dundee Hotel in Dundee, Oregon, where I have nine pieces of art on display!

Turns of the Kaleidoscope

Yesterday I dropped off 17 new plaster, oil, and cold wax paintings at Salem on the Edge for my show Turns of the Kaleidoscope. The pieces range in size from 12×12 inches, up to 30×60 inches, all created to be hung on 48 feet of wall space! When I began working on this series, I had trouble imagining filling that long, blank wall. But I did it with one painting to spare. (If you happen to see the show during the month of May, ask Melanie to see the 36×48 inch piece, Life’s Distractions and Enticements.)

Rather than blather about creating the pieces, I’m going to share my process with a series of photos, after all, this is a post about an art show. Here we go . . . .

Sealing the board with fluorescent paint.

A brand new gallon of Gamblin’s Cold Wax.

Doing a demo on Instagram about final coat of wax. (My IG: DaynaLovesArt)

Photographing paintings in the perfect outdoor light.

The namesake piece, “Turns of the Kaleidoscope.”

Howard carries in “Baffled Amazement,” one of three 36×48 inch pieces.

The beginning of the curating process by Melanie.

Happy that the pieces are at the gallery and ready to be hung.

Now What?

Painting should call out to the viewer . . . and the surprised viewer should go to it, as if entering a conversation.

Roger de Piles, 1676

The dust has hardly settled and I’m already looking ahead to 2021, although I’ve got a jump start on a couple of projects while it is still 2020. But first, my show at RiverSea, Emotional Alignments, gets hung next week and the opening reception will be held on Saturday, January 9, from 12-8 pm during the Astoria Art Walk. I’ll be at the gallery that evening from 5-8 pm if you happen to be out and about.

Nine of 20 pieces in the Emotional Alignments show, opening January 9, 2021, at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, Oregon

Most people would probably wait until after a show has opened before starting work on another show, but I’m not most people. So forward I go, taking full advantage of making art during a pandemic. Early preparations have begun for a May, 2021 show at Salem on the Edge. Very preliminary preparations, lining up which boards I want to use, getting them painted, plaster applied, sanding them outside (weather permitting), and then getting them sealed and ready for applying oil and cold wax. As of this writing, I have no idea what my theme or composition will be – that will come in the new year.

In my next post, I’ll share about another project I’m currently working on . . . . .

Emotional Alignments: On the Home Stretch

So many tasks to attend to once the art has been made. First up, is removing the tape from the backs of the cradled wood panels, sanding the backs of the boards to clean up painty messes (I got a little hand sander for an early Christmas gift!), titling and signing the pieces, getting them all wired, and then photographed and inventoried. Whew.

And in between all these tasks, I needed to write my Artist Statement, something I have been laboring over for the past few weeks.

In the midst of this frenzy of activity, I realized that all 20 boards wouldn’t fit in either of our small, economical cars, so on Saturday we loaded up Howard’s car with 16 of the boards (amazing we crammed in 16), and headed to Astoria, where I planned to apply the final coat of cold wax to seal the paintings.

We got the paintings unloaded and I took over the funky upstairs space at our Astoria Beach House. I covered the table and floors and got set up to give my right arm a workout: slathering on a thin layer of cold wax with a putty knife, setting up extra heaters to warm up the upstairs, and then letting the wax dry and set on the pieces in preparation for a final buff and polish the next day.

The paintings are now buffed and polished, nestled downstairs in the extra bedroom, and I even managed to finish my Artist’s Statement this morning while it stormed and rained outside.

The details for my upcoming show:

Emotional Alignments: an emotional response to 2020

RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, located on the northern Oregon coast

January 9-February 9, 2021

Opening Reception: Astoria Art Walk, Saturday January 9, from 12-8:00 pm (to allow social distancing all day); I’ll be there from 5:00-8:00 pm.

The Arduous Task of Preparing for a Show

For the past couple of months I have put my nose to the grindstone. Being in the middle of a pandemic, life outside my house has been meager, so in many ways this has been the ideal time to put myself into a self-imposed studio timeout. I had the opportunity for a show at RiverSea Gallery, a contemporary art gallery in Astoria on the Oregon Coast. I have had art there for several years, I’ve been in group shows, and two years ago I had a show with my friend Stephanie Brockway. I had been thinking about asking for a solo show, but had never approached the gallery owner, Jeannine. Until October. I met with Jeannine and because of the pandemic, she was juggling the rescheduling of shows from 2020 into 2021; then she said that an artist had just cancelled for January 2021 and I could have that slot. In the big gallery. Gulp. Yes, please. Let the madness begin.

I work in layers. Many layers. It goes ~~something~~ like this. Gathering boards and painting them with a layer of acrylic or house paint. Once dry, I slather on a layer of plaster, which needs to dry overnight. The plastered boards are then schlepped outside to be lightly sanded, brought back into the studio, and sealed with a layer of acrylic stain. I like to baptize my boards with words, so I usually scribble a quote or something about how I’m feeling. Then I’m ready to begin actually painting. Because words don’t quite capture the physicality of this process, here is my photo essay depicting the first round of layers.

Now the boards are ready for painting.

When I originally pitched my show to Jeannine, my idea was for a show about waterlines, something I have been passionate about exploring for years. But as I began applying the initial layers of oil and cold wax, I realized the show was no longer about waterlines. When I needed to send an image to Jeannine for her November newsletter, I sent her this message:

I have been consistently working since we met in October, moving forward with the theme of Waterlines. I prepped 15 boards (20×20 inches up to 40×40 inches) with acrylic, plaster, acrylic, and then one to two layers of oil paint mixed with cold wax. As I began the process of reconciling the under layers with a finished composition, it became apparent that my heart wasn’t in a strict interpretation of waterlines. My original vision for the show was bold swaths of color representing waterlines, but as I began applying paint in bright bands of color, I realized what I was experiencing was more than waterlines; it was an emotional response to 2020: the pandemic, politics, and wildfires (as well as a series of personal family hardships). Waterlines always find their way into my pieces as inspiration, but this show isn’t about waterlines, but my emotional response to 2020. So things have changed a bit. I have titled the show: EMOTIONAL ALIGNMENTS. Once I started making this shift last week, my painting took off. I start my days enthusiastic and excited to get into the studio.

In my next post, I’ll share about the evolution of my paintings (now at 20 works in various stages of completion) using oil paint mixed with cold wax medium . . . . and the many hours I spend in my studio.

Painting Frenzy

Frenzy might be an overstatement, but I have been spending more time in my studio and after a fairly long hiatus, I have returned to painting with oil and cold wax.

Since 2016, I have taught a four-day Abstracted Landscape class at Sitka for Art and Ecology on the Oregon Coast. Because of the pandemic, this year’s class, which was sold out and scheduled for August 21-24, was canceled (as were all classes at Sitka).

Somehow the idea of not teaching this year inspired me to jump back in to oil and cold wax after several months of painting with acrylics and working on a series of collages. It felt good to crack open the gallon of cold wax and whip up a satisfying mound of wax, begin choosing tubes of oil paint to mix, and dig out my R & F Pigment Sticks.

I had one deadline for a painting (so that was a BIG motivator to get into the studio and do some painting and I’ll share about that project when I can), but otherwise, I decided to pull out old boards that I had used for demos in my Sitka class last year. None of the pieces were completed, they just had fits and starts of paint and marks on them, all used to illustrate techniques and then set aside. It was nice to have something to respond to besides a plain, blank, board.

I also revamped a few boards that had been completed paintings, but something was niggling at me and those pieces got a light sanding to rough up the surface, and then I started over. It was nice to erase an old painting, but know that there was that sense of history lurking below the surface.

pen·ti·men·to

^{[ pen-tuh-men-toh ]}

noun, plural pen·ti·men·ti [pen-tuh-men-tee] . Painting.

the presence or emergence of earlier images, forms, or strokes that have been changed and painted over.

What has emerged during my extended painting sessions is the reoccurring theme of circles. I have always loved polka dots and circles and they have shown up in my work for years, but lately I have tipped over into obsession.

obsession

[/əbˈseSHən/]

noun

the domination of one’s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.

I’m using circles to excess and eventually I’ll reign myself in. Or not. In the meantime, here are several pieces in various stages of completion. All are on cradled wood substrates and they all have either Venetian plaster or limestone clay (the fancy name for joint compound) as an under layer. Other than that, some of the paint is from an earlier completed piece, or is from a demo at Sitka. Almost all of these have circles somewhere as a layer – in the plaster, buried in the paint, added on top of the paint, or some of the paint removed using a stencil to reveal paint, the circles serving as a window into an earlier layer.

Radius 25: Through My Eyes

The Salem Art Association invited established and emerging artists (who live or work within 25 miles of Salem) to submit artwork for Radius 25: Through My Eyes, a juried group exhibition at the Bush Barn Art Center in Salem.

There were 230 entries for this group exhibition, with 50 works of art selected by juror Jennifer H. Pepin, an artist and owner of J. Pepin Art Gallery in Portland, Oregon. My entry, In the Fading Light of Evening, is plaster, oil, and cold wax, 18x24x2 inches, and was one of the 50 pieces selected for the show.

“In the Fading Light of Evening,” by Dayna J. Collins.

The show runs through August 25 at the Salem Art Association’s Bush Art Barn.