Studio Saturday.

I had my final painting exam today.

This morning I had to gather up my bags of brushes, sketching supplies, lunch, and other sundries, and catch a train that took me to another train, which took me to yet another train, which left me in a busy yet barren-looking section of Queens. Then I walked, keeping one eye on the print-out of directions from the website, until I found the warehouse/studio space where the exam would take place.

Someone pointed me towards a steel gray door, that opened up on to a large room. The wide floor was covered with brown paper. Twenty-odd canvasses, primed in white, were mounted to the floor in rows.

I picked one, and started to unpack my stuff. Candidates made shy greetings to each other, arranged partnerships for certain things that require more than one person-- like snapping a chalk line, or sharing an electrical outlet. Candidates also checked each other out as competition. But it felt friendly.

A monitor passed out postcards of our project image. We were to reproduce this Diego Rivera painting. You might know it-- a man and a woman in a field of grain, napping together. His sombrero is resting on the side of his head. She's propped in a prone position over the side of his lap, with her breasts exposed. They both have giant hands and feet.

Anyway, the exam ran from 9 to 4. At four, we would be told to lift our brushes and stand.

I could tell most of the other candidates were already working in the field-- simply by the breadth of their supplies. I confess, money's tight, and even though bamboo extenders (long handles for holding a brush or charcoal) had been on a list we'd each received of recommended supplies, I decided against. I would have had to mail order one (or more), and I wasn't sure I wanted to be trying out a new piece of equipment during an exam. And I didn't really understand why I'd need one for a piece that's only roughly four feet by six feet.

But I've always worked upright. On the floor is another story. Other people could stand and draw, and really see what they were doing. I was sitting and hunching and reaching. I took off my shoes so I could walk on the painting, from dry spot to dry spot, gardener style.

So that slowed me down. And man, my back is KILLING me.

But I managed. There was a trestle table of paints along one end of the room, and some slop sinks on the other, and I stretched my arms and neck as I made the necessary trips, then got to come back and look at my work with a fresh eye.

There were probably five or six judges/monitors that wandered around the space, taking notes, talking to each other in low tones. Most of the other candidates were already working in paint while I was still sketching, and the judges radiated a certain unspoken "Hmm..." as they'd pass. But when I switched into paint and began to find my stride, all of a sudden there were clusters of judges, lingering in my periphery, or solitary ones off to one side, watching.

I was too busy to feel nervous about it.

And actually, at one point I was feeling quite good with what I was doing. I'd found a technique that was fast, but really seemed to capture Rivera's brushiness.

But there was a lot to do. And I'm new enough to this kind of work that I don't estimate my time with much accuracy. At two hours left, I had the background finished, but, beyond the sombrero, hadn't done a lick on either figure.

The man who runs the exam announced that unfinished work might be acceptable, if it was looking good. But unfinished work that wasn't looking so great, well...

I kept my eeek! internal-- the only way to win this game was to stay cool and keep my eyes on the prize. What absolutely needs to be done to convey the sense of this picture? If I have to stop before I'm done, what things can I leave out?

First, I painted skin, and hair, and faces. No one wants to look at figures with beautifully rendered clothes but no eyes. Well, at least not in this case. I think.

I tried to capitalize on the brushy texture, the emphasis on chunky shapes defined by fine lines. I tried to be smart about my color choices-- finding four to substitute for eight.

That'll do, That'll do-- NO. Leave it alone. Move on.

Then their shirts, because I could use the primed surface of the canvas to do some of the work. Then, okay, only a half-hour left! block in the color of her kerchief, his pants, her skirt...

"Time! Brushes up, everyone!"

I wouldn't say it was finished, exactly. But a lot of it was. The parts that I consider truly finished, I'm happy with. And all the colors were blocked in. I mean just blocked in-- I did this last little swoop just as the monitor called time.

I'm just grateful the entire canvas was covered with the correct colors of paint before I had to stop working.

We were told to go wash up while the judges had a last look around. Then we were given our home projects back. We were provided with staple-pullers. We each loosened the staples holding down our most recent paintings (now dry, or dry enough), peeled them up from the floor and rolled them with our other work.

The judges laughed and chatted while they rolled up the brown paper that had covered the floor. I gathered up my gear, and my giant roll of paintings, and wished them all a good weekend.

And then I had to haul all that stuff back through worn-out industrial Queens to the subway, to the other subway, to the final subway that would take me home.

My arms are sore. My neck is sore. My shoulders are sore. My back is sore.

I think I did okay. But I don't know. I won't know for sure until I get a letter, maybe next week.

All I can do is wait.

Comments

[Kathi]

Sounds like a rough, yet fulfilling day. Fingers are crossed for you!

[snozma]

GOOD LUCK. You are so mongo talented I can't even imagine there is anyone else as talented as you--and also enjoyable to be around, of course!

Ack the suspense! Post a comment on my blog when you find out. I really hope this works out.

[Monica C.]

Wow, that is fascinating! It sounds stressful in a way that I would have never thought would be a part of an artist's life. It also sounds like you handled the stress very well. Can't wait to hear the results!!

[tracey]

Good Lord, they're putting you through the ringer! I'm having a stroke just reading this. You were the essence of grace under pressure, roo.

You're massively talented and I'm rooting for you all the way over here on the West Coast!