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.

Sketching on the road.

Whenever my dear wife Pat and I take a "History Trip", we each make sure to bring our sketchbook.  It is a much better memory-making device than our camera.  We all have thousands of digital photos choking up space on hard drives, most never seen more than a few times before disappearing under the avalanche of, you guessed it . . . even more digital photos.

However, when I take the time - anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour - to sit or stand in one place and sketch a scene, I rarely forget that moment.  I can still recall the hot sun on my neck at the 1866 Fetterman Massacre site in Wyoming or the feel of a Montana wind blowing down the valley of the Little Bighorn and through the greasy grass on "Last Stand" hill, while my pencil, paper and imagination carefully fused the past and the present.

The last few days, I managed to draw some small pictures while at Gettysburg and the Robert Morris Inn in Maryland, and here they are.  I may post more over the next week. Be kind, dear viewer, and remember - they are simply intended to jog my memory and perhaps inspire me to break out my paints.

One more thing.  The next time you venture forth, by all means - bring your camera.  Just don't forget your pencil and sketchbook.

Sketching Round Top at Gettsyburg, Pennsylvania, while

in period costume.  The visitors loved it.

Round Top from the north, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

McPherson's Barn, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

Aboard the 1886 skipjack, "Rebecca Ruark" out of Tilghman, Maryland

The 1710 Robert Morris Inn, Oxford, Maryland

Last night I put what MAY be the final brushstrokes on my newest First Minnesota painting, which is currently titled, "The Charge - The First Minnesota Regiment and Wilcox's Alabama Brigade at the Battle of Gettysburg, July 2, 1863."  Hardly a stirring title, but WHEW!!!  I signed it this morning and am preparing to safely carry it with us on our B is for Battle Cry book-signing and history tour.

At Gettysburg we will unveil the painting at a reception for Minnesotans gathered for the re-dedication of the various Minnesota monuments found there. On the 150th anniversary of the actual event, I am honored to be given this chance to share my work and my passion for this subject.

Of course, those who know me will understand when I say that the painting will probably receive a another working over once it is back in the studio - a painting is NEVER done until my dear wife wrenches it from my hands.

Since the previous post, there have been some slight additions and changes to the piece - good luck discerning them.  For those who are interested, I intend to reproduce this in some form later this summer.

Keep an eye on this blog, my Facebook page or my website.

More "First Minnesota at Gettysburg" painting details.

As promised, here are a few close-up images of the painting in progress.

This shows Colonel William Colvill,  several paces behind the National Colors, about to give the order to "Charge Bayonets". He will be struck by two bullets within a few minutes. The 11th Alabama Regiment can be seen crossing Plum Run Creek in the background, and some of it's men are firing at or turning away from the advancing Minnesotans.  Since this was shot, I have added several more Confederates.

The 8th and 10th Alabama approach Plum Run Creek.

Even MORE Confederates, this time men of the 14th Alabama cross the knocked down, snake rail fence bordering a large wheatfield.

I continue to add more figures and refine the details of the landscape.  Stay tuned - this baby has to be done by mid June.