Over the Andes

As I fly from Chile to Argentina, the Andes Mountains greet us with open arms.  It feels that one could stretch out and touch the towering snowed peaks, like sharp blades pointing up to the firmament. Dark crevices and bare earthy patches reveal deep valleys hidden beneath the snow. Ancient glaciers, splinters of translucent glass congealing Cenozoic water, fill some of the gaps between the mountains.

The Andres as seen from the airport in Santiago de Chile

Diaphanous clouds suspended in the austral expanse lighten the colours of the receding landscape disappearing into a blurry line resting in a gauzy horizon. The view reminds me of the blue peaks that Leonardo da Vinci painted in his backgrounds, cool rocky heights more Himalayan than Alpine.

The Andres, from the aircraft.

Not long ago I visited the National Galleries in Edinburgh to see the Madonna of the Yarnwinder. That exquisite little painting that was stolen once from His Grace The Duke of Buccleuch and was finally recovered. I am so very grateful to The Duke for lending it to the Galleries for all of us to see.

Madonna of the Yarnwinder, Duke of Buccleuch's Collection (attributed to Leonardo da Vinci and another artist)

When I studied da Vinci I often looked at this painting in particular, and much to my delight I could see it “face to face”.  The warm earth hues of the foreground rocks give substance to the Madonna and child Jesus. The cooler mountains and sea of the background are a perfect example of colour perspective.

Perhaps a clearer example is the second Madonna of the Yarnwinder known as  the Lansdowne Madonna, also attributed to Leonardo and another artist (possibly painted at the same time). The blue mountains here are similar to the ones in the background of the famous Mona Lisa.

The Lansdowne Madonna, Private collection, United States

Leonardo, who was passionate about the science of flying, would have approved of the spectacular and pleasing sight I behold; my wife sitting by my side with our little boy and the Andes behind them.  Truly a Leonardesque composition, a portrait alive.

Painting Balgonie - Part II

Last week the Laird of Balgonie came to my studio for another sitting. During three hours of painting and amiable conversation I refined features and skin tone. I also started to work on the complex pattern of his tartan plaid (the Balgonie tartan). Painting tartan is tricky and in order to prepare myself for it I had visited the Scottish National and Portrait Galleries in Edinburgh, where one can study excellent examples of portraiture of Scottish gentry in Highland attire.

It was helpful that the Laird kindly lent me his plaid for a couple of days so I could refer to it as I proceeded to work on this part of the portrait. Thus, after he left the studio I continued painting, with his plaid and brooch as my sitters. I am satisfied with the results I have achieved and I can relax now, knowing that the plaid only needs minor adjustments in value. You can visit the gallery page to view the work in progress.

Day off today. My family and I spent most of the morning and afternoon embraced by a mantle of sun and a gentle breeze by the sea in Anstruther. On our way back home we stopped at Balgonie Castle to return the tartan plaid to its rightful owner. The Laird received us with his usual warmth and showed us the work that has kept his household busy. The visitor centre is well under way and the Laird himself has done a fair bit of ornamental painting and trompe l’oeil in the ceilings and one of the walls. He is a skilful craftsman too!

Back at home now, before I prepare for a day of work tomorrow, I go to my hall and inspect some paintings as they dry. I love the smell of paint drying. Every painting has a story to tell. The Laird looks at me inquisitively. He seems to smile as if wondering what I will do next.

First break - my sitter and the painting can relax!

Painting Balgonie - Part I

Over the past months I have been working on the portrait of the Laird of Balgonie and Eddergoll. It has proven the most enjoyable project. We had two sittings at the Castle which were utterly gratifying.  Balgonie (a Scottish Laird is informally addressed by his territorial appellation) is a remarkable gentleman whose knowledge of history and conversation is exceedingly stimulating.
After the composition was agreed I started to work on a neutral underpainting upon which I have used a combination of alla prima and glazing passes. I have worked with a putty medium made with chalk, oil, egg white and beeswax. I hope you enjoy peering into what I have done so far. Photos of the painting are displayed with kind permission of the Laird.  In future blogs I'll add more photos as the painting progresses... Buon lavoro!

Underpainting, Blocking masses and perfecting the composition (Raw umber and Ivory Black).

After two passes (two sessions). I worked with a palette of Burnt Umber, Venetian Red, Yellow Ochre and Sap Green cut with medium.

Detail. I still have a lot to do and one or two more sittings in which to refine details. Up to now I have worked from photographs and from a colour study painted from life previously.

But let me tell you a little bit more about Balgonie Castle…

The first time I came to Scotland well over a decade ago, I stayed in the Kingdom of Fife. Michael and Ann, my dear friends and hosts, took me for a few outings and during one of these I discovered Balgonie Castle.  It was like meeting an old friend!  The study below shows my first impression of the castle. Please, note that landscape painting is not my forte. I don’t think the painting does it justice.

Balgonie Casle - Study, Water soluble oil on canvas.

Unlike other medieval castles of its kind, Balgonie Castle is still inhabited by its owner and keeper, the 30th Laird of Balgonie and Eddergoll and his family (although, as the Laird would remind me, the Castle owns them and not vice versa). Over the years the Castle has suffered much deterioration due to the inclement weather and acts of vandalism. Gladly, this historic treasure has such dedicated keepers who work painstakingly to prevent further ruination and restore its former glory. 

A number volunteers offer their time and skills to help with the preservation of the Castle and they are considered members of the Laird’s household. Yes, restoring a listed building, without any public funding, is not only challenging but costly.  The Castle can be hired for wedding events and the profits are used for the Castle’s upkeep.

If you want to know more please visit http://www.balgoniecastle.co.uk

A tribute to my grandfather

Today I pay tribute to my maternal grandfather, Prof. Juan Daniel Cordoba, a remarkable man and fine artist, whose life was not without a great deal of struggle.  He was the natural son of a wealthy landowner so he had to fight his own battles.  It was not easy to be an extramarital child at that time. We have become more tolerant now.

He worked very hard and self-funded his studies, becoming a professor of Fine Arts, painter and sculptor.  He was also an amateur antiquarian who specialised in particular types of Argentine native pottery, such as those made by the Diaguitas people. Some of Grandfather’s finds and work can be seen at the Rocsen Museum in the Mountains of his native Cordoba, Argentina.

Grandfather’s home in Cosquin was designed and built by himself and it is now a non for profit cultural centre where many artists and crafts people run regular workshops. The house was a work of art in itself; the most charming little cottage in the Argentine Sierras.  A combination of an alpine villa and a hobbit’s retreat where one could find bespoke features all over the place.  There, how much I loved trying to make sense of Grandpa's writings and his almost mystical paintings and sculptures! 

Grandfather’s life was cut short, too short, at 49 years of age. After being diagnosed with cancer he passed away in a month. My mother was the eldest of four daughters and who were left behind with Hilda his devoted wife. I never met him as he died before I was even conceived. But my grandmother taught me to love and admire him and I feel, somehow, that a part of him lives in me. I believe in the resurrection; I am glad I do. I believe that one day he will hear his call and come back and we shall meet. How I long for that! I dedicate this article to him.

"Afternoon" - Oil on wooden panel ( 7 x 9 in - 18 x 23 cm ) 

This is one of my favourite paintings by my Grandpapa. It was given me by my grandmother. Every time I look at it, it transports me to the crimson sunsets of the dusty skies of the Argentine Sierras, where I spent my childhood holidays.

Winter beauty

I am fortunate to live out in the Scottish countryside where every season delights us with glorious light. From my window I often see the most exquisite works of art painted by God’s finger. Many times I have tried to depict that beauty but somehow I am never satisfied with the result. What I see is so beautiful, the creation itself dressed in spendour, that it feels almost irreverent to interfere with my brush. I keep trying to capture a little bit of that serene magnificence that permeates all I see, like a miracle, changing every element under the sun, changing even me.

There is beauty in the menacing clouds, in the sleeping fields at sunset. Yet, there is also beauty in the geography of a face and the story it tells. I feel more comfortable painting the human figure, perhaps because I am a human being, acquainted with the imperfection inherent to my condition. One could argue that rendering the human creature is all the more complex, perhaps it is. But I am a human being, I am not the warm red clouds torn by the golden fingers of the sun. I am not the amber light flooding the fields of churned soil or the cold wind tickling the naked bushes and trees. I am a simple man who has the winter light etched in his eyes. 

Today, as I write this, my window shows a perfectly peaceful composition and its peace changes me inside. I find that our environment changes us in a fleeting moment. The same Northern light that plays with the fields fills our home and rests placidly upon my wife’s face while she poses for me. The whole beauty in the world lives in her eyes and shines in her pupils as she looks at me. I must try to capture that, just a moment in our lives, a reflection, through her eyes, green like the fields and amber like the light.