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You are here: Home / Architecture & Sense of Place / Surface Queries and Technical Notes on Wax and Vanished Colors

Surface Queries and Technical Notes on Wax and Vanished Colors

October 8, 2015 by Iskra Leave a Comment

Attempting to mix a true match to the vanished quinacridone gold.
Attempting to mix a true match to the vanished Quinacridone Gold.

There are certain colors that just made life so much easier. Not to mention more luminous and radiant with saturated contentment and possibility, as if one were looking through a glass of lillet from a cafe in Firenze, just before dinner. Or surveying the vineyard from the ramparts, in a good year. And this color was not a cheap trick, although it could be used that way.

I am speaking, of course, about the dearly departed Quinacridone Gold, taken from us by unknown and sudden circumstance when I wasn’t looking. What you see above is my vain attempt to spin magic from earth colors, to replace a color originally used as dust on angel wings. Ochres, siennas, Azos, — pfft. Sorry Golden, I know you tried, but Azo is orange. I discovered after a panicked search that I have one nearly dried up jar of the original paint from 2007 (??) that I shall reconstitute and try to make last until the end times. Or I will just squint more and imagine that things looks as I should like them to. This new piece is underpainted with the beloved color and some other blends of earth and mica. Italy is but a dim memory here, muted by soot, but I wanted  Quin Gold here to give a hint of radiance to the industrial scene glimpsed from the bridge above Harbor Island.

Vie from the River, © Iskra Johnson, industrial landscape on plaster
View From the River, © Iskra Johnson, mixed media on plaster

Image transfer onto rough and textured surfaces is not for the faint of heart. There is a lot of trial and error and holding one’s breath to move an image from photographic shimmer to an embedded life as an object. I think it is starting to work reliably, and I can begin to know how closely my imagery will translate. Now I am exploring the final finishes, and the technical issues of waxing over mixed media. Many of the craft solutions I have found online have no track record for longevity, so the scrapbooking community with its decoupage and furniture polishes has not been a lot of help on this.

When an acrylic resin is poured or painted over a surface it feels plastic and shiny, and for work with a textured field I want something more tactile. So far a satin wax from Stucco Italiano seems promising. I have also tried Renaissance Wax, Dorland’s Wax, and various of the Golden acrylic products, which never have the feeling I am looking for. Acrylic also tends to remain tacky forever, which makes shipping and wrapping complicated. On some of the Golden Acrylic resins I have used, like the tar and self-leveling gels, the Renaissance wax has seemed to help “cure” them so they are less fragile. But first the surface has to be scuffed with steel wool or another scrubber, and it tends to dull the colors. Both the Dorlands and Rennaisance don’t seem to “like” acrylic; they are finnicky, and sometimes come right off in burnishing. I welcome any suggestions from the surface fanatics out there. What can you put on acrylic to make it less shiny and more resilient, while keeping the brilliance of the color? What are your favorite final varnishes for mixed media (that won’t eat through paper or yellow over time?)

To unwind at the end of a day in the studio I have become a passionate fan of the Beautiful Italian Men Putting Plaster on Walls channel on YouTube. My new favorite form of “time-based art”: Italian men troweling plaster on walls with immaculate authority. To wordless soundtracks of lugubrious largos and antic allegrettos. Vivaldi never looked so good —I recommend it.

Man putting plaster on a wall, video still
A screenshot of a Man Making Art not War. Click here to see the video.

 

Filed Under: Architecture & Sense of Place, Mixed Media Tagged With: art technique, artprocess, italian plaster, mixed media, quinacridone gold, surface coatings, wax for acrylic

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I have been obsessed for well over a decade by the I have been obsessed for well over a decade by the line between the photographic and the drawn. This is simply a media test, or an “under drawing“ for something else, but it gave me pause. It suggests so many different qualities of mood: Foreboding, calm, dichotomy, a family photo poorly developed, the cloudy skies of the Pacific Northwest, or the fugue state one falls into after turning the pages of our days as a failing empire. “Our“ refers to those of us who live in the USA although now it should be called the DU USA, as in disunited United States. That disunity is a powerful disruptive pain that I feel daily. Also, as we phase out medicine, research, medical care, and with that presumably self-care, this was created, for those who are curious, with a cotton ball by #JohnsonAndJohnson (my father’s Swedish ancestors) on a Talens sketchbook. As I said, I’m testing. How much of the world can I take in before I shut the door and become an art nun and don’t look up until the last minute?
Sunday concentration drawing, testing a new notebo Sunday concentration drawing, testing a new notebook( and my attention span. . .)
Today’s mood, from the morning walk. Today’s mood, from the morning walk.
A metaphysical idea waiting to become a drawing. A A metaphysical idea waiting to become a drawing. All day I have been studying graphite, the most evanescent of mediums. Fragility. Once you break the egg, scatter the nest, leave the children without family on an abandoned beach, what then? 

I have spent the day drawing. In the background, which becomes foreground with one click, is the news of the rounding up of another thousand or so human beings by bounty hunters given a quota, thrown into concrete cages and disappeared because someone decided that America is no longer the home of the #huddledmasses.

The plaque on the Statue of Liberty says:

“Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Noem and Holman have not, apparently, run their hands over these words.

How do you continue making art at a time like this? You chase the metaphor. There is always a constant truth beneath the chaos.
Media studies. Addition and subtraction. Media studies. Addition and subtraction.
Somehow, between checking the news and the usual d Somehow, between checking the news and the usual distractions I managed to complete a drawing. Going back to the beginning: drawings in dust. 9.5 x 12” Charcoal powder, compressed charcoal, charcoal pencil on Moleskine. I feel peaceful for the first time in weeks.

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