American Primitive Wood Graining

"The Printseller's Window'" Walter Goodman 1883

Nineteenth Century Tall Grass Magicians (so called because they'd camp in the tall grass on the outskirts of town) with names like Willard the Wizard were basically drifters plying sleight of hand for a quick buck. They'd blow into small American towns and perform sideshows and magic acts until the townspeople got bored and then they'd move on, disappearing like ghosts.

All sorts of artisans, from painters and photographers to woodworkers and doctors (for wasn't medicine more of an "Art" than a "Science" back then?) were doing much the same. Folk Artists would cobble together a living by painting portraits, shop signs, murals, wood-graining - anything they could get. 

Even Walter Goodman, whose trompe l'oeil masterpiece "The Printseller's Window" is pictured above, spent rootless years "undertaking interior painting, illuminating ceilings, fabricating life-size advertising 'Indians' for merchants, painting theatrical scenery and making up stage actors."

James Millard, photographer and artist, outside his studio in Wigan, circa 1895. [source]

Some stayed in Europe and managed to open stores. The photo (above) of Millard - proud as Punch and open for business in swanky new digs - as a "Painter in all it's Branches" and Photographer of "Machinery, Buildings & Animals", illustrates this perfectly. Plenty of others headed to America and took to the roads in droves, traveling from town to town in an endless search for work. Their mostly anonymous efforts kept the art of decorative painting alive, and created a new style known as American Primitive.

Laurel Farm outside of Pawling, New York

I was thrilled to come across some of their original handiwork in a recent stay at beautiful Laurel Farm outside Pawling, New York. The main dining room, with it's large open fireplace and brick oven, was a focal point of the old farmhouse and as such would typically receive the most elaborate decoration. In this case, an unknown painter covered all wooden surfaces in a primitive faux oak grain, painted in one pass.

Original wood-graining in the dining room. The bottle of Pilsner was a recent addition by me.

The original farmhouse dates from 1815, but has been expanded and renovated since then. Fortunately, the current owners are keenly aware of it's history and chose to preserve as many of the original features as possible, including the wonderful wood-graining on display here.

According to 'Vignettes of Patterson Past' (The Patterson Historical Society, 2007), the farmhouse was used at one point as a camp for girls.

"The camp was to be named Camp Genevieve Brady in honor of its donor. It would provide a taste of farm life for city girls. An eight room house and lakefront cabin stand on the property and there are plans to erect a recreation hall and seven units to accommodate 200 girls."

The owners used to bring the girl's luggage up from the train station for their two week stay, and give them hayrides with his tractor. 

"Residents remember scout sunrise ceremonies held as the sun rose above the eastern hills and red buses filled with campers going up and down the road into the late 1980s."

For a more detailed account of the tools and techniques of wood graining, as well as a how-to video on faux oak, check out this link to recent post on this blog.

Free Video Demo: Faux Cerused Oak

The following is an in-depth demonstration with video and images, designed to help you learn the traditional method of painting faux oak, generally considered the most difficult wood-grain to simulate in paint. I made about an hour of footage following along as I explained on-the-job faux cerused (or limed)  oak. There are some things that I glanced over or skipped entirely, but hey; it's free. So no complaints.

I tend towards more subtle effects personally, as far as wood-graining. If you scroll way down to the bottom for a finished shot, you'll see what I mean. Your owns style will develop naturally, and with practice.

The introductory photo above shows my painted faux cerused oak (top left), the real sample (bottom left) that I was asked to match, and some custom tools I cut from linoleum to assist me in the graining.

A selection of brushes and combs that I use for graining

Step 1: Setting up, and Mixing your Glaze




The first video is a quick rundown of my recipe for this faux finish. I don't go in to detail about color mixing here, as I'm assuming some knowledge on your part, but you get the basic setup. Mixing colors is an art that takes a long time to learn. There is plenty of info on palette choices by artists for different techniques in the literature and online. As a great starting point, I recommend Parry's "Graining and Marbling" (1949), and Finkelstein's "The Art of Faux" (1997).

As you can see in the above photo, I keep sample cards for each job. This is very important. The card on the left shows each step, staggered down the page in taped-off strips, right up to the finished spattering step. The card on the right has notes and separated color swatches of my colors. These are not the colors from the cerused oak job, by the way.

Parry on Limed, or Cerused, Oak:

"Lime, whether applied accidentally or deliberately, remains in the pores of the timber, and also influences the general colouring according to the extent or period of saturation, the state of the time, and the age of the oak. the result being a universal darkening of the figuring and lightening of open pores.

We must draw a sharp line between the genuine limed oak and limed oak effects obtained by the use of oil-bound distemper. The latter has no darkening effect on the figure, but rather the reverse. It imparts, particularly in the case of new oak, a soft bleached appearance."

Step 2: Laying in the Pores




Flogging with the horse-hair brush is the proper method for laying in a ground layer of pores, simulating the open cells of sawn hardwood. The traditional setup would be to use a reversible medium such as gouache or beer glaze, but I went straight for oil. 

"Of the several methods used for the reproduction of this wood the oil colour process is by far the most popular with present-day grainers. Work carried out in this medium is under complete control from start to finish, and there is no possibility of accidental effect creeping in and spoiling the appearance." [Parry]

Of course with oil, and in the event of failure, the whole thing can be easily washed off with a clean rag and white spirit, and the work recommenced. A job not possible in acrylic, and difficult in gouache unless you first seal each layer with shellac.

You do have to be careful to always adhere to the "fat over lean" rule regarding layers of oil paint. In other words; your base layer should always have less linseed oil than the layer above. In the case of multiple layers, increase the amount of oil as you move up.

In the video, I stretch the glaze with a spalter, then flog my glaze from the bottom to the top, and left to right (on open panels), paying attention to the direction of the wood. Keep your brush clean, and wipe it often on a rag. You can re-flog the wet glaze layer as many times as you like, but each time you go back over it with the flogger it will reduce the size of your pores. In the case of oak, the pores are very open so I only flogged once. 

A quick word at the start regarding all those dirty rags: Dispose of them carefully! With all the linseed oil floating around, you can easily start a fire. 

Step 3: Graining 



Once the pore layer has dried, we are ready for the figure graining. In the video above, you can see the heart- and straight-grain being laid in, and my method for doing it. 

I go over it in the video, so I won't repeat myself here. Instead, I'll quote heavily from Parry's text, which you should definitely read because he has some added points that I don't cover.

Don't make this stuff up. Graining as a craft has a long history, and there is a very distinct look to natural grain. There's nothing worse than "wood-grainy effect". Do a Google search on oak grain, or better yet; visit your local museum and photograph old English furniture. It's guaranteed to have the best natural examples of oak grain. Buy old books, and practice.

Source: Parry

Parry On Oak Heartwood (or 'Sapwood')

"Although many examples are similar to ash, there are certain characteristics which are only to be found in heart of oak. These differences must be grasped before they can be freely exploited by the grainer. The 'oak sap' - as it is frequently, and erroneously, called shows considerably more ruggedness and variety of shape. The ends or outer edges of the concentric elliptical curves are sharply spiked, widely varied in thickness, and, as if in a final effort to break loose, the ends assume the most fantastic twists and turns, no two being exactly alike."

Source: Armstrong

"The heartwood is mainly employed in situations where it would normally be used by the wood-worker, i.e., for cross rails of doors or other work secondary in importance to the choicer quartered oak paneling. If the grained work is to appear natural, it should never give the impression of being 'centered'. This can so easily be avoided; indeed, where short lengths of timber are concerned it is better to omit the central curve and display the more interesting features of the wood.

A word of caution becomes necessary at this stage: be careful when graining the more intricate end shapes, as these, if overdeveloped. will upset the balance of the whole composition. It is not easy to lay down any hard-and-fast rule, but we would strongly urge all beginners to keep the extreme widths of such parts noticeably narrower than the points from which they are developed. By this means we are able to maintain the characteristic tapering formation which is common to most woods."

Source: Parry

"For the wiping out of heart grain we fold a double thickness of clean rag over the veining horn. gather the loose ends, and hold firmly together with the other hand.

This is a two-handed job and although one may at first feel extremely awkward when sketching the pattern with these unfamiliar implements, it will not be long before some measure of control is acquired.

An expert grainer continues to wipe out with the right hand. white frequently giving a sharp putt with the left in order to maintain a clean working edge, all without cessation of work.

Cleanliness and sharpness of definition are important factors which cannot be obtained except by the constant changing and tautness of the rag which covers the veining tool."

Source: Armstrong

"Many grainers use the thumb-nail and are quite convinced as to its superiority in all types of wiped-out figuring. It can, however, become a painful operation after several days of continuous work, and in any  case it less hygienic than the method recommended above.

The handiest veining horns are those about 100 mm in length. These are already shaped; round at one end, fairly square at the other; and it is the square edge which gives the greater variety of shapes."

Source: Parry

"In wiping out the hearts it is advisable to use the tool at the same angle as one would use a flat fitch, i.e., with the square end parallel to the direction of the grain. The long straight lines are wiped out with the angle nearest the direction followed, and by maintaining the firmest pressure at this point, we can, when forming the elliptical ends of curves, produce the required thickness of line and at the same time leave the outer edge sharp and the inner edge fairly soft."

Step 4: More Graining

 

This video has annotations and music, which might be annoying, but whatever.

Parry On Combing

"Combing provides a simple method for the portrayal of coarse grain, particularly for oak and pitch pine. An examination of the plainer parts of these woods will reveal some interesting differences; pitch pine exhibits a certain boldness and continuity of line with fairly even balance between light and dark areas; oak is characterised by its vastly different ratio of lights and darks, the latter - which are actually broken line effects produced by the pores - occupy something like one-fifth to one-tenth of the width of the lighter parts. It will therefore be evident that each requires its own particular combs and technique.

Rubber combs may be cut from waste pieces of linoleum, rubber or leather or other material of stout quality. These can be rectangular in form and of sizes varying from 50 mm by 75 mm upwards. Teeth are formed by cutting deep grooves of the  required width on all four edges, but this must not be attempted until each edge has been accurately squared and straightened up: this latter point is important, as the comb will not wipe out cleanly unless the edge is maintained in a sharp and square condition.

When forming the teeth, due regard must be paid to the effect desired. In pine, for example, the notches and teeth are of equal width; in oak, the grooves are extremely narrow and the teeth are comparatively wide. In both cases it is desirable to make at least one comb with teeth on the several edges so graduated in width as to reproduce that natural coarse to fine variation in the graining."

Parry On Mottling

"Apply the glaze colors with a clean "rubbing-in" brush and reserve the mottler or cutter for its own special job of removing ribbon-like highlights or large areas interspersed with darker shades. If stronger tones are required, these can be applied with the fitch, but the whole work must be done expeditiously, to allow time for softening.

Do not overdo the mottling, but seek inspiration from the natural wood, and it will soon be evident that light and shade are most pronounced in those parts of the grain which twist and curl away from the main direction."

Step 5: Silver-Graining

Parry on the silver-graining of oak

"The lines indicating the silver grain - popularly described as the clashes or dapples - are not just segments of one continuous line, each following the next in single file. There is, of course, a common sense of direction, but the ends of the dapples will be found to overlap like so many isolated roof tiles, and it is this feature which must be continually observed even though the lines curve and change direction. Notice also the steep pitch of the slope, a positive advantage when twisting and curling the run or flow of the grain."

The combination of wavy combing and wiping out
Source: Armstrong

Armstrong's Cyclopedia of Painting has a great article (free online) on faux oak, with the illustration above demonstrating the method for wiping out the silver-grain. You can clearly see where a narrow steel comb is first dragged though the glaze (on the left side), and a wider comb is then struck vertically through the waves. This simulates the smallest silver-grain. As the silver-grain gets larger, moving to the right, the background combing becomes vertical, and a rag is used to wipe out the silver-grain.

Source: Parry

Step 6: Spattering and Check-Rolling

On Spattering

"(An) impression may be obtained by 'spattering' the work with colour which is brushed against and through the teeth of an ordinary comb. The effect will be more or less pronounced according to the consistency of the colour and the distance between the comb and the surface treated. It is usual to supplement this method by an immediate light dragging action with the badger softener in one direction to pull the specks of color into elongated pore marks."

On Check Rolling:

"May be employed at the grainer's discretion when it is desired to accentuate the pores; otherwise it is unnecessary. The roller will behave equally well with an oil or a water medium. 

The roller is fed with color from a wide mottler or brush which must rest lightly upon the upper edges of the serrated discs. The roller is moved forwards in the direction of the grain, leaving the pore-marks clearly defined. Too much pressure with the brush has the effect of removing color and leaving the discs clean. If color is too thin, the result will show an ugly series of blobs. Yet another case where success depends entirely upon practice."

Well, for better or worse, here's how it turned out

Oil Paint from the Sea?

The Seine Boat - Stanhope Forbes

My last business idea failed miserably: Animal Rescue Steakhouse ("You'll come for the puppies, but you'll stay for the meat pie"). I couldn't convince the Venture Capitalists that in these days of belt-tightening, disposing of unwanted pets in a delicious Bolognese sauce is a sure bet.

Like Homer Simpson's product idea ("Nuts'n'Gum: Together At Last!"), we're surrounded by businesses that are born to fail. On a recent trip to Long Island, I found out that the local beaches were once strewn with large open kettles containing a stinky brew of rotting fish that were used to make paint. "Clearly I'm not the only idiot", I scoffed.

But I've always loved paint chemistry and old-timey bearded dudes with names like "Salty Jack", so this story appealed to me.  A little research revealed that the long history of rendering fish into paint is scientifically sound, and that in fact I am the only idiot...

Atlantic Menhaden

In the early 1800s, settlers filled barrels with water in which they placed menhaden caught by haul seine fishing. Weighted boards kept the dead fish submerged. As the fish rotted, some poor sod had the task of skimming the released oil off the top of the barrel. This process took several weeks. Fish oil was used in the manufacture of fertilizer, fish meal, animal feed, soap, the waterproofing of fabric, and exterior paint.

Paint produced from the oil was hugely successful. It turns out that the eastern tip of the Long Island once produced the nation's largest quantity of fish oil. Unable to meet the growing demand for oil, the industry sought ways to increase production. The modernized process began by cooking tons of fish in a double-walled revolving steamer. The fish were then moved to the steam screw press where the oil was hydraulically squeezed out, providing greater yields. On average, 1,000 fish generated 4 to 6 gallons of oil.

A fish sale on a Cornish beach - Stanhope Forbes

But where had this practice started? It was most likely developed in Northern coastal communities and used to protect exterior woodwork from the ravages of weather. There's an interesting old recipe from Greenland for fish oil paint, or 'train' (whale) oil:
 

Ingredients:

2 kg of train oil (seal-oil, whale cod-liver oil or blubber).

300 gm of crushed resin.

About 1 kg of red iron oxide. 

Procedure: 
The ingredients must be boiling when they are mixed. 

Heat some of the train to boiling point.

Add the crushed resin and, eventually, the remains of the train oil. 

When the mixture is boiling, add the pigment while stirring. 
 

If the preparation is done on an open fire you must be careful that the train oil does not catch fire. 

If occasion should arise, close the lid tightly.
 

Qualities: 

Matte and relatively rough with an uneven surface and appearance. 

Weatherproof and fast. 

Will smell of fish oil in the beginning. 
 

Drying: 

About 2 weeks.
 

How to use: 

On rough wood outdoors.
 

Durability: 

About 10 years. After 5-10 years a coating of linseed varnish must be given to maintain the qualities. 

Old "Salty Jack" himself

"Modern paint is made up mostly of chemicals and other artificial substances. However, about a century ago, fish oil was used as a base for paint. Fish oil was used from many type of aquatic life, such as herring, sardine, whale and porpoise. Several studies, such as in the "Journal of the American Oil Chemists' Society," have been done to discover how fish oil was used as a medium for paint. The fish oil goes through a special process which turns it into a base for paint" [eHow]

It'd be hard to identify the true source of the technique (similar to the rumors surrounding Van Eyck's 'discovery' of linseed oil as a medium), but there's an apocryphal story about the discovery by Captain Robert Fergusson:

"There’s a high-seas adventure story behind the creation of Rust-Oleum Coatings. Captain Robert Fergusson didn’t intend to start Rust-Oleum Corporation nearly a century ago. He lunged for the container of raw fish oil before it spilled on his rusted metal deck.

But the Scottish-born sea captain noticed that his spill stopped the spread of corrosion. This observation led him to create the world’s first rust-preventative paint. But it wasn’t easy.

The Captain landed and settled in New Orleans to spend years conducting painstaking (and smelly) research. He finally settled on a fish-oil based paint that stopped rust, dried overnight and left no lingering aroma. Rust-Oleum Corporation was born."

Maximillian Toch; inventor of the color "Battleship Grey"

An article by paint manufacturer and industrial chemist Maximillian Toch published in 1911 called Fish Oil as a Paint Vehicle claims that "the oil that gives the best and most lasting results for painting purposes is the menhaden oil." He maintains that the drying qualities of this oil are similar to linseed oil. The man seems to know his stuff, and his article suggests that the knowledge of fish oil paint was around before Captain Fergusson's 'discovery' in 1921.

Then again, Toch also claimed that a bunch of paintings attributed to Rembrandt were not actually painted by him, so who's to know.

The Breadwinners - Walter Langley

Page One of Toch's article on Fish Oil Paint

Top 10 Happiest Jobs and The American Dream

Was Bob Ross really that happy? Despite finding a family of raccoons evidently nesting in his afro, he certainly seems to have maintained a positive outlook.

 
"The powerful motivator in our lives isn't money;
it's the opportunity to learn, grow in responsibilities,
contribute to others, and be recognized for achievements." 
 Frederick Herzberg

I made a big headline out of Herzberg's quote not because I'm convinced he's right, but because I'm not entirely convinced. There's some truth to the notion that we are fanatically dedicated to our beliefs precisely because they are in doubt. Nobody's 100% dedicated to something they have complete confidence in. You don't see anyone standing on a soapbox shouting that the sun is going to come up tomorrow.

Having spent the last two days in a cramped closet painting over-sized faux malachite in oil, I'm not sure I'm in the right frame of mind. I can barely blink my eyes at the same time. I'm more likely to wake up in my car somewhere near Newark airport with a cop shining a torch at me, followed by high-speed chase and death by fireball.

So I was interested in a recent study that claims these results in Job Satisfaction:

Top Occupations in Job Satisfaction

1. Clergy [87.2%]
2. Firefighters [80.1%]
3. Physical Therapists [78.1%]
4. Authors [74.2%]
5. Special Education Teachers [70.1%]
6. Teachers [69.2%]
7. Education Administrators [68.4%]
8. Painter, Sculptors, Related [67.3%]
9. Psychologists [66.9%]
10. Security and Financial Services Salespersons [65.4%]

Number 8 was interesting, of course. If you combine this study with the one that says 'Business Owner' is the Number 1, then I should be playing the pan pipes, skipping to work and reciting poetry about unicorns. Business Owner and Painter? The Perfect Storm of double happiness. Wahoo.

On the other hand, as a decorative painter I'm equal parts 'painter' and 'construction laborer', of which the study says:

"Other workers who said they are generally unhappy were construction laborers, welfare service aides, amusement and recreation attendants, 

 hotel maids, pressing machine operators, electronic repairers, 

kitchen workers, and machine operators." 

Oh well. Back to the front.

Aristotle spent a lot of time thinking about stuff [you heard it here first]. His guiding question was always 'what is the best thing for a human being?' His answer: happiness. "Happiness," he wrote, "is the best, noblest, and most pleasant thing in the world." James Skeen writes that "when Aristotle talks about happiness he is not talking about the mere psychological satisfaction that comes when we get what we want.  He is talking about human flourishing, a thriving that is based on moral and intellectual excellence." 

What is it about a happy face that makes me want to punch things?

But what exactly is the greater issue here? You might be tempted to draw a common thread through the list above, but it'd be a tenuous one. Priests, Firefighters and Teachers could be said to be working for some greater good. Authors and Painters? Maybe it's down to freedom of expression leading to contentment, or just the ability to hang out in your underwear all day long.

“This congruence of belief, values, and actions in one’s daily work can be immensely satisfying," says Rev. Cynthia Linder. “The most satisfying jobs are mostly professions, especially those involving caring for, teaching, and protecting others and creative pursuits,” said Tom W. Smith, Director of the General Social Survey (GSS) at the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago. The survey is the most comprehensive of its kind to explore satisfaction and happiness among American workers.

The American Dream?

Or perhaps it's simpler than all that. Perhaps money does buy you happiness: While one poll of 'happy' countries shows a correlation between the wealth of it's populace and their general level of well-being, it shouldn't be surprising that another poll "finds countries with the highest well-being tend to be the most peaceful countries in the world and those with the lowest well-being are the least likely to be peaceful." [A Worldwide study of well-being by Gallup shows a high of 72% in Denmark to a low of 1% in Chad].

Renowned British economist Richard Layard published a book last year called (not surprisingly) "Happiness" in which he discussed one of the surprising results of a bunch of tests he ran: money doesn't make people happier. The only time people's subjective well-being rises as a result of cash is when the money takes them out of poverty. Middle-class people who become upper-class, however, don't report feeling any happier.

Despite our becoming generally wealthier as a country, Americans are known to be a lot less satisfied with their jobs than they were 30 years ago. It seems that it's not enough to simply still have a job in a recession, we all want more.

 "As it turns out, when a nation’s GDP rises above $10,000.00 per capita there is no relationship between GDP and happiness." [source]

I remember reading about a study done on a bunch of kids. Before the study started, they were asked to rate their 'happiness' on a 1-10 scale. They voted about a 6. They were then told that they were each to be given a free gift. Yay! They had to reach into a bag and blindly pick out a surprise. There was one gift for each child. Once they'd each taken a turn at the grab-bag and claimed their gift, they were polled once again for happiness. This time, Their happiness came in at about a 4.

What had happened? Despite the fact that they were now materially richer than they were a couple of minutes ago, they were less happy. If they'd been left completely alone, they'd have been happier. Perhaps they were now in a position of having made a personal choice, and confronted with the realization that they had chosen poorly and were now jealous of the people around them. If the choice had been made for them (or if they were never part of the study to begin with), it'd have been smoother sailing.

The kind of happiness referred to in the study above is a crass, low-minded want/satisfaction duality where saint and criminal can be equally satisfied, but it still made me wonder whether the spoiled modern dissatisfaction with our lot has something to do with this way of thinking. 

We all want to be captains of our own destiny, but there's a certain existential price that comes with that: What if we've taken the wrong path? Unfortunately, we aren't given a window on our lives like Jimmy Stewart in It's A Wonderful Life, so it's impossible to discern whether or not we've made the 'right' choice.

source: H. Arnold Barton, A Folk Divided: Homeland Swedes and Swedish Americans, 1840—1940

European governments, worried that their best young people would leave for America, distributed posters like this to frighten them. This 1869 Swedish anti-emigration poster contrasts Per Svensson's dream of the American idyll (left) and the reality of his life in the wilderness (above right), where he is menaced by a mountain lion, a big snake, and wild Indians who are scalping and disemboweling someone.

Richard Wilkinson, a British professor of social epidemiology, recently stated on PBS NewsHour, "if you want to live the American dream, you should move to Finland or Denmark, which have much higher social mobility."

"Americans may be deeply divided about what ails our country, but there's no denying we're a nation of unhappy campers." Kerry Trueman writes. "Danes, on the other hand, consistently rank as some of the happiest people in the world, a fact attributed at least in part to Denmark's legendary income equality and strong social safety net."

But I can't help feeling like this chatter is all getting a bit vague and obtuse. What if I just run off and join the clergy? They're at the top of the list. Would that make me happy? Maybe. 

That and huge bag of cash.