I accept a limited number of commissions. Some have been portraiture, but the most enjoyable have been those in which a collector has been looking for a particular kind and size of painting and I’ve come up with an idea that fit the bill.
The most recent of these was Granville Bridge. After seeing my '65 Volvo, a collector asked me if I had any similar ideas for a smaller-size painting. I reviewed the photos I took in Vancouver during the same period as '65 Volvo and came up with several ideas. We agreed on a scene of the Granville Street Bridge, and the painting that resulted was, I believe, one of the best of my recent works.
Below is a small sampling of digital “sketches” (working photos with a painting and/or drawing filter applied in Photoshop) that I have been putting together for possible new work. I picture these as large scale pieces, and commissions would help move the projects forward. Inquiries are most welcome.
Above is a nude in landscape that I’d like to paint as large as six by seven feet. I used the first photo I took of the model nude, and I see the painting as being, in part, a Realist view of the artist’s model. I envision using my oil tempera technique to give a richness—an overall lushness—to the brushwork for the trees and grasses. As contrast, I would use a more refined painting technique for the figure.
This is a sketch for a proposed diptych of a nail factory that existed into the mid 1970s on Granville Island in Vancouver. It was a Dickensian place; rows of machines pounding out nails with a deafening staccato of cracks and bangs.
The contrast between the harsh reality of an industrial workplace and the visual appeal of the old wooden building and archaic machines could make for a striking piece.
This view of Toronto is high on my list of next major paintings. Done in a size and scope similar to that of my recent Vancouver, Looking East, 1974, it could be a truly extraordinary painting. Cityscapes like these say a great deal about how far we humans have come, and perhaps where we are going. The almost frightening intensity in this kind of scene certainly gives reason to pause.
Dream Girl is a drawing I did in 1986 of my then wife. I’d like to return to this idea and have been searching for an appropriate model. I imagine a near life-size painting on a round four-foot-diameter canvas. With a sizable hand-made frame in white gold or silver, it could be stunning.