Creating Dred Scott - part 3

Time to get dirty!

The back of the Harriet Scott photo/sketch, covered in charcoal, after tracing.

The modified drawings were coated on the back with charcoal, taped down to Gessobords (not my spelling, I swear - these are commercially available, prepared masonite panels) and I traced the most important lines and features. These crude and easily smudged drawings were cleaned up, details were modified and each panel was given a protective layer of spay fixative followed by brushed-on acrylic matte medium to keep the drawing from lifting while during underpainting and add just a slight brushstroke texture.

Ah, where would we be without all this messy stuff?!

I decided to introduce even more texture into the piece using acrylic gel medium.  This would give an actual  3-dimensional quality to certain areas of the painting – in fact, I would come to regret my rather sloppy application of the gel this time around.

Within an hour, I was painting.

I began by staining each scene with warm tones, a light ochre for the outside scene and darker burnt umber for the interior scene. This is a way of setting the painting up for a specific color scheme, and quite frankly, I don't like staring at all that unpainted white background when I work.   In neither case did I allow the stain to obscure my charcoal lines.  I don't really have photographic evidence of this stage - I was too BUSY trying to meet a deadline! You will just have to take my word for it.

You can pick up a hint of the ochre stain underneath some areas here. Things are pretty loose at first.

For Harriet’s picture I restricted my palette to muted yellows, stronger reds and deep browns – there is just a touch of blue/green, weakened by mixing with red-brown. For Dred, I used the exact same palette with more blue worked into the shadows areas to create a feeling of strong outdoor daylight.

As I painted I made continued reference to the existing images of the Scots, as well as my modified photo/drawings, as a way to ensure not only the features were correct, but the folds and wrinkles in the clothing and the effect of light were accurately captured. I never follow these references exactly, but they do give me answers to some questions. Like my brush and palette knife. they are simply tools to be used as needed

This is a typical set-up. Well, it may be a bit more organized than usual, but you get the idea.

I moved the flagpole to the top of the round tower, where it likely was in the late 1830's.  Hey, it's history, you know?

The texture that I introduced at the beginning worked well in some areas, like the shoulder of Harriet’s dress, especially when compared with the softly painted broom in the background. Light bounces of those little ridges, giving a physicality to the surface and this contrast makes the shoulder stand out appropriately. 

Contrasting light and dark, soft and hard edges and a bit of texture for good measure.

However, thanks to my haste, some texture was allowed to creep into shadow areas, and even into Harriet’s face, and that, folks, is what we call a “Bad Idea”.  When unwanted texture obscures details or breaks up what should be a smooth plane, it is a distraction (especially in shadow areas) and can confuse the viewer as to your intent. While we accept and often look for texture in an original painting, in a print or book illustration it can be a problem.  I continually use Photoshop to "paint out" annoying texture when a piece has been scanned for reproduction.

It got a little too bumpy here and there.

In this case, I don’t feel that the texture is really a problem.  I just need to be a bit more careful next time around.  Bloody amateur.

Perhaps the most enjoyable part was the firelight and detailing of the table, kettle and vegetables.  No real pressure, just a chance to play with light.

I think these paintings took about two weeks to complete.  In each case, the painting is a gradual build-up over at least 3 or 4 sessions (with an occasional touch up even later), each layer modifying the previous one. My brushes tend to get smaller with each session, as I focus more on details.  At the same time, I am constantly looking for areas that may need softening and blending into the background.  I need to remind myself just what is really important, and what can be allowed to drop out of focus. This can be the trickiest part of all, after capturing the likeness.

The Harriet Scott painting on the easel.

Harriet Scott

The Dred Scott painting on the easel.

Dred Scott

And there we have it, folks. Whew.  I hope I have done justice to history and to the spirit of these two human beings who ended up playing such important roles in our nation's past. When I have decent scans and a link to the finished documentary that these were originally created for, I will make a final post.

Cheers - and thanks for letting me share this process with you.

Creating Dred Scott - part 2

Putting it all together.

After approval was given to forge ahead with the paintings, I had an important decision to make.  Who would pose as Dred and Harriet Scott? If I had needed to create recurring African – American characters for a picture book, I would have selected appropriate African - American models, as I did in the past with Gwenyth Swain's Riding to Washington. The situation this time was different. I would be replacing my model’s faces with the faces of Dred and Harriet.  

Therefore, I opted to go the “easy” route, and could get away with using a pair of Anglo-Saxons – my wife and myself.  We are simply the cheapest and most accessible models I have ever used.

As Harriet Scott, my dear wife dressed in an 1830’s pattern dress she had hand-stitched a few years ago. Without this valuable piece of costuming, I would have had to modify the photos of Pat wearing a dress from a different time period, which is pretty common for me.  I rarely have all the costumes and props exactly as I need them, and end up becoming a type of tailor armed with pencil and eraser, with a stack of costume books and internet images underfoot.

 Pat as Harriet - she's chopping vegetables on a box of miniature soldiers.

I showed Pat my preliminary sketch and then we posed her standing in my cluttered studio, with light coming from two directions to simulate both window and firelight.  Thank goodness for cheap clamp-on lights from our local hardware store. Pat even sliced some small, red 19^th century appropriate potatoes for me while she stood there, which we later ate prepared with green beans and her home-made pesto. Yum.

Normally I would set up the camera on a tripod with a 10 second delay on the timer, and pose for myself, but this I wanted to do it right.  I made a phone call to our dear friend and neighbor, Rebecca (artist/photographer/thrower of awesome Halloween parties), and she shot photos of me posing in the raking, morning sunlight. The folks driving past my home in South Minneapolis are becoming used to the sight of me, Pat and a host of neighbors and friends in costume, play-acting for the camera in the yard or on the sidewalk. We have never been visited by the police after one of these affairs – even when posing with guns – so I count myself lucky. 

Me as a well-fed and freshly laundered Dred Scott.

For my role as Dred Scott, I was able to get away with wearing my early 19^th century clothing and  doing a few pencilled alterations. I also found it necessary to erase a few pounds from around my belly and jawline; Dred Scott would not have had access to the array of snacks that are my great weakness.

Photoshop is my friend.

The axe head and chopping block came from a photo taken at the fort.

In Photoshop I combined the pose photos with the background photos or sketches and printed out both pieces at full size on my printer. These prints will become my comprehensive sketch and also my tracing sketch.

Finally, using the only images I have found of the Scotts, I broke out my pencils, sharpies, and white paint and began to carefully draw right on top of the printed references, Dred’s face on top of mine and Harriet’s face on Pat's.  This involved shifting the position of eye sockets, noses, etc., and worked surprisingly well.  At this point I also drew some of the details of the Scott’s environments, but left much to the painting phase.

Much better!

It's quick and not very pretty, but sketches like this make my life a LOT easier.

In a few days I will post Part 3, where I talk about transferring the sketches and painting the final pieces.  Cheers!

Creating Dred Scott - part 1

"You need it WHEN?"

I was recently asked by the Minnesota Historical Society to paint pictures of Dred and Harriet Scott, slaves who met, married and lived at Fort Snelling in the 1830’s while their owners were posted there. The Society is creating a series of short documentaries relating to Civil War topics and the Dred Scott Decision of 1857 is one of the powder keg issues leading up to that war.  They were editing together a 6 minute piece on this subject, and needed a pair of images to add "life" to the main characters. 

Period engraving of Dred and Harriet Scott.

The producer wanted to show both Dred and Harriet at work within or close to the walls of the fort, a place near and dear to my heart. My dear wife and I met, married and worked there for more than a decade.  As far as I know, Dred or Harriet Scott have never been painted, and the chance to be “the first” was more than I could pass up.

As usual, there was very little time to pull this off – there never is. I immediately accepted the challenge, despite the fact that I was still finishing a series of picture book illustrations.

I visited my good friends, the historians at Historic Fort Snelling, and we talked for a while about just what the Scotts would have done there on a daily basis, as well as how they may have dressed and what their quarters may have looked like. My camera came in handy, but I realized I would have to modify the recreated quarters to accurately reflect their likely 1830’s appearance. 

 Interior of the recreated quarters at Fort Snelling.

My dear friend Tom "poses" for me in front of the Scott's quarters. The other pop is mine. Really.

 The correct shape for an early to mid 19th century axe head.  This is important.

The following day, I shot photos of myself as both Dred and Harriet, and then drew two compositional sketches based on these.  Time was slipping away and I simply needed warm bodies to quickly establish the most basic information upon which to build a scene.  Details would follow later.

Me, as Dred Scott, holding my nice axe.

You can see the picture book I was trying to finish, taking over my main easel.

Me as Harriet Scott. I didn't even need a dress for this one.  Just some puffy sleeves and a warm body.

Dred Scott sketch.  See how it all comes together, minus Tom and the bench?

Harriet Scott sketch.  In the end, we changed the walls and hearth and lost the printed pattern on the dress - thank goodness, because those patterns add TIME to a painting..

I didn't hear anything back for a crucial week, and was prepared to take on my next project when I received word that the project was a go.  Thankfully these sketches were approved, and the REAL work could begin.

In Part 2, I will continue this process, so check back soon.

Changes to "The Charge" - Part 2

It’s done!

"The Charge"
30 x 48 inches, oil on canvas

Thanks to the timely assistance of my dear granddaughter Violet, “The Charge” is done.  Really.  I swear.

Violet helps Grandpa paint.

In the end, the biggest change involved moving most of the First Minnesota into the Charge Bayonets position.  Some participants mentioned the left companies halting once or twice during the charge; in my interpretation, that end of the line hasn’t caught up with the rest of the regiment, so I reasoned that they haven’t heard the order.  Artistic license?  Perhaps.  Educated guess?  Sure.

The right wing under Lt. Colonel Adams charges into the 11th Alabama Regiment.

The left wing under Major Downie rushes to catch up.

To be honest, this painting is the result of a whole series of educated guesses, with a liberal sprinkling of artistic license to fill in unknowns and allow me to create particular visual effects.  It’s always this way, and history painters who can’t admit this are fooling themselves and their followers.

I am under no illusion that, given the use of a time machine or (GEEK ALERT! GEEK ALERT!) Doctor Who’s blue police box, the Tardis, surviving participants of the actual charge would recognize this painting as a representation of their experience.  However, I do believe they would approve of the spirit of the piece – it is my hope that it would seem familiar. Does that make sense to you?

Time travels with the Doctor.

So – what else changed? 

The 10^th and 14^th Alabama got pushed back a dozen yards or so, creating the “second line” mentioned by Minnesotans who charged the 11^th Alabama in the front and center of Wilcox’s Brigade.  This also helped separate the units into distinct formations, which is better from a narrative standpoint.

 8th and 10th Alabama Regiments

The 14 Alabama in its new position.

The hills on the horizon line now more closely resemble the actual geography and the Klingle farmhouse has received a coat of whitewash.  Pat and I walked around and photographed the existing building during our recent trip.

The ground Wilcox's Alabama Brigade advanced over - see the wreckage?

Colonel Colvill and the national colors have been moved to right of center – a few of my serious historian friends have reasons for believing that this was the case, and I defer to their judgement.

 Colonel Colvill and the First Minnesota's national colors.

Finally, I broke up the formation of the First Minnesota so that is a bit more ragged in appearance. In retrospect, I think it should have been painted even more so – one participant said they looked like skirmishers during the charge, a result of casualties and the breakdown of order as they moved to engage the Confederates.

For those who may find it interesting, I here post a photo of the painting with titles added to explain just who and what you are looking at.    I would like to create a simplified black and white drawing of the main features of the painting, complete with key, which was the way it was often done in the 19^th century.  Ah, for more time and energy.

The key to "The Charge".  Good luck, folks!

You know, as I look at it, I notice that we could use just a few more grey-coated wounded and stragglers trailing out behind the Alabama lines.  They were there a month ago.

Where did I put that brush?  Hmmm . . .

Dave's Little Wars, Part 1

“Big Dave and Little Dave”

I am fascinated with miniature soldiers. For most of my life I have collected, glued together, painted and occasionally “fought” battles with little warriors from several time periods, and count myself lucky to have a number of friends who do the same. This interest in warfare throughout history doesn't mean I actually believe we should tread too often down that path.  In the words of my friend Jeff Nordin, "May all our wars be  . . . LITTLE ones."

Yours truly and his Zulu War figures, many years ago, while stationed at Camp Pendleton.

 A taste of my 30mm tall Revolutionary War collection; nearly all are Charles Stadden figures.

These tiny 10mm tall Civil War soldiers are my newest obsession; they are fun to paint, and they create quite a spectacle . . . in miniature, of course.

My first ever stop-motion movie features a small part of my World War 2 army.  Sit back and enjoy!

You may well ask, “Where does it all start, this passion for toy soldiers and miniature figurines?” For me, the answer lies so far back in my childhood, I can’t recall a time when I wasn’t drawn to that little world. I do know that my dad, the ORIGINAL David Geister, is part of the story.

I have three distinct memories of “playing soldier” with my dad. Dad was not a game player,  but he knew the right time to take an interest in what his eldest son was doing.

My original play-set disappeared decades ago. Thank goodness for Ebay!

In the first memory, I am 6 years old. We are laying on the floor of our duplex in Spring Valley, Wisconsin, and Dad is helping me snap together the “wooden” palisade and mount the blockhouses on the corners of the classic Marx’s Fort Apache (This is a gift from my Aunt Bonnie, who will spoil me rotten for years). It has cavalry soldiers, Indians with a tepee and a cannon that shoots little plastic shells. I have no doubt that we both get a thrill out of the experience.  

Be kind, dear reader - this is long before we had our eyes opened by watching the movie “Little Big Man" or reading “Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee”. The real story of westward expansion and the destruction of American Indian people is something I will learn about later; my love/hate relationship with military history will gradually follow; for the moment, however, we are simply a couple of lads off on an adventure.

These plastic Airfix soldiers were my mainstay for years, even after I discovered metal miniatures.  GREAT box art, totally inaccurate but totally inspiring.

In the second memory, I am now perhaps thirteen years old.  It is a rainy Saturday in the late fall and the two of us are at our first and only wargaming convention, a small affair held in a cold building at the fair grounds in Rochester, Minnesota.  Thanks to a poster glimpsed on the wall of the Little Tin Soldier Shoppe in Minneapolis (more about THAT place later), the two of us “answer the call” and join in a Civil War battle being fought with hundreds of quickly-painted blue and grey plastic Airfix soldiers.  Later, we spend time talking with Dungeons and Dragons co-creator Dave Arneson.  Dad proudly shows him some of my sketches of Napoleonic soldiers, and I am both thankful and a little embarrassed.

 Battle Masters was guaranteed to satisfy my sword and sorcery needs.

In the final memory, I am in my late twenties and my father is just about the age I am today.  It is Christmas afternoon, we are laying on our groaning bellies right smack in the middle of the kitchen floor, playing with my newest toy, Milton Bradley’s Battle Masters.  Plastic knights, goblins, beast-men and even an ogre march back and forth across a large vinyl map in a Titanic Struggle between Good and Evil. The family carefully tiptoes around us as we unconsciously recreate the scene from my childhood.

As I seem to remember it . . .

To be sure, I would have played with these things, and collected them as I do now, regardless of whether my father had taken the time to play with me on those few occasions. But his presence here, in the midst of these fond recollections, makes the memories that much sweeter. He was a good man. Not only did he encourage me to become an artist; he showed me it was o.k. to be a kid.  I appreciate that gift more than anything else, especially as I start to feel time slowly chipping away at me.

My dad, a couple years before he passed away - can YOU see the kid hiding inside him?

Thanks, Dad. You are missed.

Changes to "The Charge" - Part 1

A history painting is NEVER done . . .

I've often joked that the moment I declare a history painting "done", and put the last flourishes on my signature in the lower corner, someone will show me a long, lost letter, chock full of juicy, new facts that turn our previous ideas on their collective heads.  This is what we history painters both dread AND desire.

Well . . . it finally happened . . .

On the evening of July 1st, Pat and I unveiled "The Charge" at Gettysburg, in front of a room full of appreciative Minnesotans.  I joked to the crowd that a painting is never done until my wife wrenches the brush and palette out of my hand. I showed them my “Artistic License” (courtesy of Kenspeckle Press), and then went on to remind them that this painting is just MY interpretation, subject to change.

 (photo courtesy of Pioneer Press   http://www.pioneerphotography.com)

On the evening of July 2nd, we spent time with fellow Minnesotans on the battlefield and participated in the rededication of the First Minnesota Regiment Monument on the spot where they initiated their charge, 150 years ago.

 (photo courtesy of Pioneer Photography  http://www.pioneerphotography.com)

That night, my friend, Wayne Jorgenson - a founder of the First Minnesota Reenactment group, author, historian and collector- showed me the transcript of an unpublished letter written by a member of the First Minnesota Regiment who had actually participated in that famous action. This letter suggested that the opposing Minnesotans and Alabamans were farther apart than most accounts presented; that they stood up, without shelter, on opposite sides of Plum Run; and that there was no bayonet combat. 

Keep in mind that this letter was written by a soldier on the left end of the line, so his experience was limited to his narrow perspective.  A common experience amongst combat veterans was to develop tunnel vision - they can generally only recall what happened immediately around them. I feel the safest approach is to incorporate as much as possible from the accounts of all the participants.

SOOOO . . . here we go, kids!

 Change 1

It seems, according to my expert historian friends, that Colonel Colvill and the Regiment's National Colors would have been farther to the right of the line, as opposed to dead center – no pun intended. I fear the reasons for this might bore you to tears, but I like these details.  With the recent dispatch of a company to skirmish with approaching rebels, Colvill may not have had time to reposition the color party to the center of the regiment.  Like Colvill, I also have ordered these men to "Charge Bayonets", and am in the process of pulling their muskets off their shoulders and into a more threatening position.

Changes 2 and 3  

I have pushed BACK two regiments of Alabamans – the First Minnesota fought hard to do this, but I managed to wipe them out in mere minutes with my paintbrush.  Putting them back into their NEW positions will take some time, however.  This change is needed in order to create more space between the opposing sides, to delineate the separate Alabama regiments and to further distinguish them from the scrubby trees and brush along Plum Run.

Historically, these Alabamans were becoming intermingled by this point in the fight, but I need to fudge that fact just a bit to help tell the story. This where my "Artistic License" comes in mighty handy.

( http://www.kenspeckleletterpress.com ) 

Now, where did I put all that gray and butternut paint?

More sketches from the road . . .

As my dear wife and I continued our travels from Maryland to Virginia and then back to Pennsylvania, we found time to break out pencil and paper.


I should clarify something - most of these sketches were finished up in our KOA Kabin or motel room.  Purists may recoil at the idea - so be it.  I don't care how or when the piece is finished, so long as I capture the spirit of the scene.

While on site, I made it a point of nailing down the position of all the features of a landscape, and spent time developing the basic tonal relationships, as well as indicating textures and details. I  reckoned that I could push the values to their extremes later, in the comfort of my nest, and I rarely used my white colored pencil or chalk until that point. For extra emphasis, I occasionally relied on white casein or gouache paint applied with a small brush.

My memory of the scene, the values I had already laid down and what I felt to be important in creating a focal point all guided where the brightest lights and darkest shadows needed to be.  In the future, I may use a little black ink for those deep shadows, and this, combined with the white paint, will give me a complete range of values.

However, there are inherent dangers to sketching on the road.

1. Sometimes, one's water bottle is empty at the worst possible time, and a few drops of a name-brand, carbonated soft drink, heavily laden with caramel coloring, has to be pressed into service as a means of thinning paint and cleaning a brush.

2.  At other times, one will discover that peanut butter on one's fingers WILL leave a greasy blotch on one's paper . . . even in what should otherwise be a pristine, untouched sky.

3.  Car lights, air-conditioning and phone battery-chargers should not be allowed to run down the car's battery while the car's occupants are inside their hermetically sealed bubble, blissfully sketching away.  Luckily, this artist's wife is a master at popping the clutch while this artist and a historic site guide pushed the vehicle down hill.

All right - enough chatting.

 Site of the original, historic Jamestowne, Virginia settlement.

 The original stone wall, sunken road and Innis House on the Fredericksburg, Virginia battlefield.  The beauty of the site belies the horror of what happened just beyond that wall in December of 1862. (Can you tell I had a peanut butter sandwich while drawing this? Can you spot the stain? I sure can.)

 The Gilpin House, Brandywine Battlefield, Pennsylvania.  THIS is where our car battery ran down.  

 Little Round Top, sketched from amidst the rocks of Devil's Den, Gettysburg National Battlefield Park, Pennsylvania.  I left out the hundreds of tourists swarming over the site.

 Another view (see previous post) of the McPherson Barn, scene of heavy fighting on the first day of the Battle of Gettysburg.

A simple sketch taken while we and a few thousand visitors waited for several thousand more visitors to form up in the distance and cross towards us on the site of what is commonly called Pickett's Charge, a key moment that effectively ended the Battle of Gettysburg.

I hope to add more sketches this summer, so check back in.