Skip to main content

On my 200th blog post

It seems appropriate, in the 200th post for this blog named after the autobiography (loosely called) of John Ruskin, to start referring to the great man and his works more often. I’ll begin by quoting the subtitle of ‘Praeterita’:  Outlines of scenes and thoughts, perhaps worthy of memory in my past life.

Ruskin describes his first memory of being introduced to the art of painting as follows. When he was three and a half years old, his parents took him to have his portrait painted by the celebrated portraitist James Northcote, about which Ruskin writes:

“I think it should be related also that having, as aforesaid, been steadily whipped If I was troublesome, my formed habit of serenity was greatly pleasing to the old painter; for I sat contentedly motionless, counting the holes in his carpet, or watching him squeeze his paints out of its bladders, -- a beautiful operation, indeed, to my thinking; -- but I do not remember taking any interest in Mr. Northcote’s application of the pigments to the canvas; my ideas of delightful art, in that respect, involving indispensably the possession of a large pot, filled with paint of the brightest green, and of a brush which would come out of it soppy. But my quietude was so pleasing to the old man that he begged my father and mother to let me sit to him for the face of a child which he was painting in a classical subject; where I was accordingly represented as reclining on a leopard skin, and having a thorn taken out of my foot by a wild man of the woods.”

Here is the 1822 portrait of John Ruskin by James Northcote:


P.S. The artist Fuseli, on seeing Northcote’s painting “Angel opposing Balaam”, said to him: “Northcote, you are an angel at an ass, but an ass at an angel.”

 Subscribe to Praeterita in a reader

Popular posts from this blog

Restoring my Printing Press

I've just finished restoring and assembling my large etching press -- a six week process involving lots of rust removal, scrubbing with steel wool, and repainting. Here is a photo of the same kind of press from the Chicago Printmakers Collaborative: And here is a short YouTube video of me testing the press, making sure the motor still works after nearly seven years of lying in storage:

Brancusi in Plastic

Artist Mary Ellen Croteau is showing these columns made from recycled plastic cartons and lids in the window of the Columbia College bookstore on Michigan Avenue. They are a playful homage to Brancusi's "Endless Columns", with a serious environmental message for our times: Image copyright Inhabitat.com and Mary Ellen Croteau Mary Ellen also runs a wonderful experimental art gallery in a window space in west Chicago, called Art on Armitage . I will be exhibiting a mixed media piece there during August 2012.

How to etch a linoleum block

Linoleum as a material for printmaking has been used for nearly a hundred years now. Normally, you cut an image out using special gouges similar to woodcut tools, cutting away the lino around the image you want to print. This is called relief printmaking, because if you look at the block from the side, the material that remains stands up in relief from the backing material. You then roll ink with a brayer over the surface of the block, place paper over it, and either print by hand or run it through a press. You can do complex things this way (for example, reduction linocuts), but the beauty of the process is that it is quick, simple, and direct. Incised lino block, from me.redith.com Etched lino block, from Steve Edwards A few years ago, I saw some prints that were classified as coming from etched linoleum blocks, and I loved the textures I saw in them. In the last few months, I've been trying to use this technique in my own studio, learning about it as one does these d