Tales of the Riverbank

RUN-N-LATE 14TH CENTURY ITALIAN ALTARPIECES

Much to my pleasure, my masters education includes a practical workshop in reconstruction 14th century alterpiece panels, mirroring the "authentic" process (as specified, of course, by Cennino Cennini) as closely as possible; we cut a few corners though. As such, I have just returned from the studio having had the pleasure to work with glue made from rabbit skin! I wish to detail the process so that any of you can try this reconstruction at home.

First you must sand your wood panel smooth (although poplar is traditionally used, anything with a fine surface-i.e. oak, pine, mahogany, 2x4, etc-will work) and be sure to take ALL varnish off. Next, apply tree layers of rabbit skin glue (you can buy the resin boiled from the skin in pre-fabricated crystals to avoid having to kill and skin your own rabbit; just follow the directions for making on the stove), allowing each layer to dry before applying the next. Go over each very lightly with a dry brush as it is solidifying to get the air bubbles out.

Next you must mix up your gesso sottile for later. This is simply plaster of paris and can also be purchased at an art store. You must mix in proportions of 1 kilo to 10 litres of water. Add the gypsum to the water and stir slowly for about 75 minutes. You cannot stop or it will harden! After the mixture has thickened it will become thinner again, once it begins to thicken for the second time you will know you are about 75 in and can stop.

Now laddle about two cups of the mixture into a linen cloth and squeeze gently to extract the water. This will leave soft clumps of gesso sottile which should be formed into hamburgers and left to dry overnight on a rack. Repeat until all is used. We will return to this later

For the gesso grosso, mix plaster with the rabbit glue so it is fairly thin, then grind in a mortar and pestle until smooth. Apply a thin layer to your glue-panel. Allow to dry, and apply two more layers this way, preparing the gesso grosso each time so it doesn't harden.

After the three layers you are going to distill your gesso sottile in a bit of water to make it liquid again. Grind in mortar and pestle until quite smooth, and apply 7 layers to your panel, allowing each to dry of course.

Once the panel has been coated with the gessos, you must scrape it smooth with a blade, but careful not to gauge it! Now you are ready to paint!

*For instructions on preparing egg tempera or for guilding, contact me personally. Also, above instructions will cover about 8 small panels, so adjust your measurements accordingly.

Rob Goes International

As a friend recently told me, "going international is so hard." This is true. Aside from the emotionally destabilizing experience of being on "foreign" soil, there is a vast amount of nuances which separate life abroad from life in America. For example, I've never been in a situation before where I've had direct access to my power/electricity through a parking meter in my bedroom. Having to shove pound coins into it daily to keep my toaster working (especially considering that my diet consists mostly of breaden products) is unsettling. And using multiple appliances at once (i.e. toaster + kettle)? Forget it! I've never seen such a rapacious meter. What is this "power?" Who is putting it into this magical meter and why is it so expensive?

Perhaps of more concern is my inattention to these British subtleties, especially as they've affected my hygiene. I did not realize that there is a hot water switch in my kitchen which controls the flow throughout the flat. Until this point (and even still b/c of that damned meter) I figured that perhaps hot water didn't exist in my Victorian building and therefore didn't bother turning the shower on (I still can't figure out how to do that but the bath does work I imagine). Instead I adapted my bathing practice to standing in the shower and sponging my privates with a bowl of hot water boiled on the stove. I don't own a proper towel either so I'm usually quite cold even after I attempt to dry myself with a kitchen rag.

My British sup usually consists of sauteed potatoes and carrots, which I accompany with, you said it!: toast. And when I'm not trying to decipher mystery paintings from 16th century Flanders, I enjoy renting DVDs from the language center library. Although halfway through Kika I begin to have self-depricating thoughts about how poor my Spanish is and how lacking my academic interests are, only to feel worse from the bitter cold of my unheated tenement. I still cannot tell whether this condition is exacerbated or not by the tepid can of Tennent's lager in my clamy hands (I could be drinking piss and not know the difference).

I think perhaps what is most unsettling is that romanticized notion that going international is mystical in some way which, in me at least, remains unsatisfied. And what is the result of these international lessons, you may ask? I've still ended up at McDonalds after a night of drinking alone in a sad, sunken, overweight bar; just once though, just once.