A strong portrait possesses personality. The painter’s ability to create personality visually, and the painter’s own personality in the way the painting is built add crucial strength to a portrait.
This is a commissioned portrait of Chris Pronger, a professional ice hockey player. On the ice he is a gladiator with nerves of steel.
Enter the gateway into one of Pronger’s icy focused glares…
A sketch on the canvas with a 3B pencil. The 3B graphite is a little soft and oily. A loose line maps out the space of the canvas.
Some red washes get the painting juices flowing. Colors you can’t see in a painting are equally important to colors on the surface.
A wash of black carves out volume. A large presence on the ice, equals a full frame composition.
Now with a fully mixed palette I introduce color.
A blue background because he is a defenseman, referencing his dominating presence inside the blueline. That’s hockey talk. I was also thinking about the blue in the ice and how it visually activates the orange in his jersey.
Eliminating the details of the arena intensifies his focused look.
Chris Pronger | oil, acrylic, graphite on canvas | 12 x 12 inches | 2011
Five fans or 20,000 fans, all that matters to him is kicking ass. That’s how I feel when I am in the studio.
Perhaps the next Flyers captain? Regardless, he is a formidable presence on the Philadelphia Flyers and I hope he recuperates smoothly and has a successful season.
I am currently accepting a limited number of new commissions. If you are interested in a sports player/moment commission or anything else follow this link to read the three easy steps.
Recent Hockey Paintings
Jaromir Jagr | acrylic, oil, pen, collage, and cloth on canvas | 11 x 14 inches | 2011 | Ari Lankin
Immortal Captain | oil on canvas | 30 x 30 inches | 2011 | Ari Lankin
Lord Stanley's Castle | 30 x 30 inches | oil on canvas |2011 | Ari Lankin
Recent commissions of a beach landscape, a Norton Motorcycle, a Bald Eagle, a hockey player, and a new born child.
Remember the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico last year? It’s a distant thought, like most news gone by. Yet, it’s something we will never forget. With no decisive image how will we remember it?
First an account of the events according to Wikipedia: At 9:45 P.M. CDT on 20 April 2010, during the final phases of drilling the exploratory well at Macondo, a geyser of seawater erupted from the marine riser onto the rig, shooting 240 ft (73 m) into the air. This was soon followed by the eruption of a slushy combination of mud, methane gas, and water. The gas component of the slushy material quickly transitioned into a fully gaseous state and then ignited into a series of explosions and then a firestorm. An attempt was made to activate the blowout preventer, but it failed. The resultant oil spill continued until July 15 when it was temporarily closed by a cap. Relief wells were used to permanently seal the well, which was declared “effectively dead” on September 19, 2010.
I was watching the live feed of the oil cap while I was listening to music and painting. I became mesmerized how the cap hovered around the screen much like footage of the first moon landing. In the corner of my eye it looked like a combination of a fish tank and a fireplace. Eventually I started a new painting of what I was watching on the screen, the capping of Deepwater Horizon.
This is by far the coolest still life I have ever done. I would compare it to a reverse cubist experience. I studied the subject from thousands of angles created from a hovering point of view on a flat computer screen instead of representing observed reality from multiple points of view while flattening the image on the picture plane. That’s a lot of ideas for one sentence.
I’ll keep it short the rest of the way.
I was watching this live feed off of my computer screen taken by the Skandi Neptune support vessel. If you didn’t know what it was it may be very strange at first glance. After extended viewing it continues to look strange to me… space alien machine cartoon monster.
I was ready to rock right out of the gate because I had been painting all day. I liked how the subject was literally built by joining smaller pieces. I took a similar approach to building the imagery.
Most of the subject was constructed, but I hadn’t decided how to resolve the edges.
At times it felt like I was painting a still life on a table. In a way I was, a computer screen sitting on my desk. I eventuallty painted the edges black like the physical computer screen.
The red in the upper right was sea debris drifting around the frame. In the painter as director position I decided to paint it on the edge of the frame. Since it’s a static image we don’t know if it is entering or exiting the view.
The Capping of Deepwater Horizon | oil on canvas | 22 x 28 inches | 2010
History is a funny thing. Who decides what to remember, and how we remind? How does technology change the way we are delivered information and remember the past?
Click image for a larger photo.
Notice the texture of the paint and how the image was made by laying impasto strokes and scraping down to the gessoed canvas.
I’ve always had a strong interest in mathematics. Early in my career I made paintings that were derived from mathematical equations and were framed within the grid. Most notably Deja Vu I, and Deja Vu II.
When I started this painting I had those paintings in mind, but there was no mathematical theory behind the layout. This time I decided to go on gut intuition. I had no idea where this would lead me.
This is how it went….
I laid down a grid of five inch squares. I added the colors one at a time at first.
As the painting progressed I added more than one color at a time. This is how the painting looked after finishing filling the squares with color. Keeping it loose, it’s ok to paint outside the lines.
I wasn’t feeling how the colors were interacting so I decided to cover some of the squares with white. The layers of white are intentionally translucent so the color shows through.
Something was missing… black.
Back to my roots of black and white. At the same time notice how the colors radiate under the white squares. Look again, the pattern is not symmetrical.
Now that the color is muted, nine circles activate the linear grid.
Exploring the new spaces created by the circle outlines.
Now the circles are completely integrated with the grid. At this point I’m starting to read the painting as a meditative symbol.
Time to add color, it stirs the soul in ways black and white can not.
The importance of the integrity of the grid fades as I explore the meditative feeling.
At this point I’m literally painting myself into a state of unconsciousness.
Almost all recognition of the outer circles are gone.
The image felt like it was missing something. I started to get stuck in parts, so I brought back the circles.
The structure was complete. I felt there was a deep unity and at the same time paths of expansion. To finish the painting I refined the circles, clarified the points that kiss the edges, and further developed the lines.
Mandala | acrylic and oil on canvas | 30 x 30 inches | 2011
Click image for larger size.
The final image will hopefully enable the viewer a visual path to a meditative experience.
This is the second painting I did after the biblical flu that had me sidelined with a fever for 9 days. Between tripping out on a fever, lucid fever induced dreams, over twenty movies including the whole Twin Peaks series, and not being able to paint I was so ready for this painting to pour out of me.
As usual with my abstract work, I dive in without any preconceived image…
A big yellow amorphous shape, why not?
I kept it very loose and tried to surprise myself. Some strong lines to counteract the organic yellow shape.
New colors and shapes seem to have individualized spirits.
Two strips along the top and the bottom, allude to analog film. This was influenced by watching so many movies and my experience with photography/film. Aesthetically it holds the diverse forms from spilling out of the top and bottom of the canvas.
A canvas is a window to another world. Add light and the image dances. The individual forms start to gather together and a large central form develops.
At this point I’m exploring the organic forms and fleshy feeling. This is balanced by the architectural feeling of the crisp horizontal strips on the top and bottom of the canvas. The self, the brain, and our instantaneous digital connection to the rest of the world….oops, I was just thinking out loud.
There was a lot of destroying and rebuilding while making this painting. I had to take things away to see if they were needed. When I rebuilt them I already had a knowledge of the purpose they served. Also what was was missing in their absence. 
The lower forms are now shining through the strip on the bottom of the canvas. Some people wish their life is a movie. If you ask me, everyone’s life is a movie. Some people turn their projector light up brighter than others.
View With A Room | oil on canvas | 30 x 40 inches | 2011
While going through images over the weekend I realized I haven’t posted this painting from late Winter.
I started this on one of those winter days when it finally starts to warm up.
So with the sun out, and the windows open, I ripped into this 4′ x 5′ canvas.
Warm weather, and a big canvas is a great combination after a long winter.
Just looked at the time stamp on the photo and I started it February 14th at 2:36PM…oh, that special day
let me take you back….
Starting out with a slick thin black line. Felt great with all the freedom of a large canvas. Keep the paint flowing.
After bringing in some color I introduce 12″ x 12″ blocks.
Playing with the structure and using the blocks to literally build the composition. A big playful signature in the middle. Brush strokes are a type of signature.
Time to push the picture plane back with some white. The “X” in the middle pushes the other imagery back.
Break the grid by exploring each square, and merging them together.
A general cohesion is forming, but not for long…
Simplify and dissolve the geometry. The form becomes more organic.
Increasing surface area with folds.
Changing opacity to alter the depth.
Whats the difference between drawing and painting? Save that debate for another time. It doesn’t matter with strong mark making. More of that.
Getting rid of some of the black that held the painting together since the early stages.
Pink On The Brain | acrylic on canvas | 48 x 60 inches | 2011.
I hesitate to explain the imagery in my abstract paintings. It’s abstract for a reason, actually thousands of reasons.
Sometimes I feel a title can lead the viewer too much. Don’t let it.
Check out the video in HD, and click the finished painting for a larger image.
Watch the video in high definition.
Everything On The Inside, Out | oil on canvas | 18 x 24 inches | 2011 | Ari Lankin
A major body of my work begins without any preconceived image. They start with the action of painting.
I hesitate to put abstract pieces into words because they are activated by what the viewer brings to the experience of viewing.
With that said I am willing to discuss some of my feelings and thoughts while making this painting.
Non-objective-hallucinatory-relative-flow……. let’s go….
The first image was taken after two sessions with the painting. I liked the way it looked and almost considered it finished for awhile.
I took another look at the painting and laughed at myself for feeling content with it’s current state and decided to explore further. First thing was to get rid of the red because it contrasted the central form too abruptly.
The red is gone and now its time to expand the central form. Line, mass, point and color are the main ingredients. Personal mark making and colors rule supreme.
The forms felt congested so I excavated some unnecessary verbiage. Now its airy.
Back to the red, this time a little lighter. I’m letting the exterior permeate the interior. These two things are essentially the same thing to me.
Now that I’m feeling the inner structure it’s time to let it breath within the frame of the canvas, thank you orange/peach color.
I love my pinks and blues. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy, we meet world. Dance into the fire.
At this point i’m starting to construct elements that relate to one another in more simpler terms. Total cohesion.
Cobalt blue creates new temptations all over the canvas.
What kind of space is this?
Mind, body, eye, palette, flight
Creation in motion by destruction. Invisible mirror.
Potentially kinetic-kinetically potential.
Everything On The Inside, Out | oil on canvas | 18 x 24 inches | 2011 | Ari Lankin
A lot of my work is about growth and exploration. The nature of painting.
Paintings that allow us to live in the space.
I was born and raised in the same town where my parents still live. I have a strong feeling of a home base, and at the same time have a lust for exploring the new.
Viewing this work allows me to break through to realms of fresh thought and at the same time keeps an air of familiarity. Experience and memory.
Release, flow, decay, structure, grow, color, life force….
Immortal Captain | oil on canvas | 30 x 30 inches | 2011 | Ari Lankin
As many of you know I have nurtured my love of art for a long time, but I have been nurturing my passion for Flyers hockey since the day I was born. My parents have blessed our family with season tickets since 1973, well before I was born.
Today the supposed keystone of the Philadelphia Flyers team was traded. Captain Mike Richards was dealt to the Los Angeles Kings 30 minutes after fellow Flyers star and good friend Jeff Carter was traded to the Columbus Blue Jackets. The first deal was no real shocker. The team had salary cap pressure while trying to sign a new goalie, which apparently they did after the Richards trade.
The Richards trade was a little more to stomach.
Will next year be the year the Flyers recoup the Stanley Cup?
During the last week of the regular season I started a Mike Richards painting. Richards was The Flyers Captain and stud player who was destined to be the next great figure in Philadelphia sports. That was until the 2011 hockey season happened. Destiny waits for no man.
On June 23, 2011, The Flyers made big changes in the organization, and I made a big change in my Richards painting.
Here it is..
A spacious grid to give a framework to the structure of the painting. Screaming orange to set the mood for this painting.
Most of the body has solidified. And I start adding orange marks in the background.
Looks like this guy is Flyered Up. Here comes color number three. I love laying a dark color into a very light painting. The sensation is tangible.
Building the form up with different shades of orange and white. Some Flyers symbols start popping up in the flames.
There was too much separation with the black background so I decided to lighten it with some dry brush marks. I was inspired by the look of ice.
More specifically the ice at a hockey rink. Art related hockey fact: White pigment is added to the water that is frozen to make the rink.
Starting to really catch that Mike Richards fierceness. He can really be a beast on the ice when he is on top of his game.
Immortal Captain | oil on canvas | 30 x 30 inches | 2011 | Ari Lankin
The painting now stands as tribute to all Flyers Captains. Especially the greatest Captain, the immortal number 16, Bobby Clarke.
I have faith in 2012 for this organization. I must admit this is an exciting move by Paul Holmgren. We welcome new Flyers Brayden Schenn, Wayne Simmonds, Jakub Voracek, and Ilya Bryzgalov.
I would also like to give a big thank you to Richie and Carts for taking this team to high levels. You will always be a great part of Flyers history. I wish you both the very best in your careers. It’s unfortunate we won’t get to walk together forever.
You know what they say in hockey, its not the name on the back, its the crest on the front.
Let’s Go Flyers!
Jaromir Jagr | acrylic, oil, pen, collage, and cloth on canvas | 11 x 14 inches | 2011 | Ari Lankin
The Sunday over Memorial Day Weekend I woke up with a desire to paint outdoors. I made a coffee, packed up my supplies, sent out a few messages to friends, and headed out to the park. I decided on my favorite spot in Central Park, Sheep Meadow.
This was my third Sheep Meadow painting. Each time I have painted a different corner.
The northeast corner is the latest in the series.
So let’s get to the painting…
Started off with some yellow spots of sun and magenta in the sky. Very loose brush marks as I feel out the space and how the paint is going to behave in this weather.
Some dark marks form the structure of the tree in the foreground and the pull of the trees in the distant background.
Defining the layers of depth in the painting. The ground starts to solidify, establishing some gravity.
The top of the painting opens up like a breath of fresh air with the addition of blue. The rock, a key moment in the painting takes shape. Notice one of my happy friends in the lower left having a beer and hanging out.
A little resolution in every part of the painting. It’s at a moment like this that I realize where the painting is really going.
Time to define the depth of the tree on the left. Filling out the grass in the foreground stretches the space.
It’s all about the leaves in the trees at this stage. The individual leaf is as important as the role it plays in relation to the other leaves around it. Finishing touches to the purple lilacs are followed by the final touches on the left tree.
Sheep Meadow, Memorial Day Weekend, NE | 24 x 18 inches | acrylic on canvas | 2011
Fin.
Previous Sheep Meadow paintings:
Sheep Meadow, Labor Day Weekend, SE | 18 x 24 inches | acrylic on canvas | 2010
Sheep Meadow, SW | 24 x 18 inches | acrylic on canvas | 2010
A steel and glass pyramid stands tall in Nevada. A beam of light shoots out from its apex. For our last painting we decided on the most recognizable hotel on the strip. Our home base for 9 nights, the Luxor Hotel and Casino. Old is new, and new is old, the space time continuum quivers.
Per my modus operandi, I zoned out listening to the same album on repeat. I listened to Mac Miller’s K.I.D.S. on repeat for the first 7 hours of this painting. You can download K.I.D.S. here for free. Mac Miller is a very talented 19-year-old rapper from Pittsburgh.
Let me take you through the development…
After deciding on a head-on composition I dove in with yellow.
Feeling out where to place the pyramid… a little more up and to the left, a little more, perfect. Framing the main subject with the obelisk on the right edge of the canvas. Now there are essentially two edges on the right side.
I decided to lay down gold for the sky and silver for the pyramid. Here comes magenta to create some depth in the image.
More color and more depth. It’s time to add the details now that the general composition is solidified. I put down a dark color for the pyramid, but decided to revert back to the silver.
An action shot with my subject in the background. Headphone in the right ear.
Starting to carve out the form of the sphinx by adding shadows and blue on the headdress.
Jerry Shawback painting hard in the trenches of a vacant hotel lot across the street from the Luxor.
Another action shot now turned directly towards The Luxor.
It was hot out there and apparently my pockets got a little steamy. I decided to put in the trees and was instantly happy with this executive decision. Time to darken the pyramid for real this time.
A quick visit to the other end of the block to say what’s up to Borbay. Check out his Luxor painting.
Dramatic silhoutte photo opportunity on the way back to my easel.
Is that beam of light from the top of the pyramid visible from space? Apparently. Let me note for the record, even with this scientific miracle we had no wi-fi access in our room.
Everything is solidifying quite nicely. A big jump at this time with: highlights and shadows on the trees, reflections on the pyramid, the monorail track, and details on the sphinx.
The blue sky brings out the sphinx’s eyes, and here comes the monorail in the lower left.
Old Is New and New Is Old, The Luxor | 20 x 20 inches | acrylic on canvas | 2011
Fin.
View my other Las Vegas paintings:
Welcome To Las Vegas Sign
Welcome to Las Vegas | 24 x 24 inches | acrylic on canvas | 2011.
The Sahara Hotel & Casino
End Of An Era, The Sahara | 20 x 20 inches | acrylic on canvas | 2011.
El Cortez Hotel & Casino
El Cortez Hotel, 600 Fremont St | 24 x 24 inches | acrylic on canvas | 2011.
Broadway Bare: 2 Hot, Live Painting
Bares Cares, acrylic and ribbon on canvas, 20 x 20 inches, 2011.
Check out this great time lapse video of Las Vegas that includes us painting, by Allan Gange.
The locals said it was beautiful, but warned us not to go a block past the uncovered part because it gets kind of sketchy. After walking up and down the street three times we decided on a view focused on the legendary El Cortez Hotel & Casino. It is precariously located two blocks passed the covered portion right on the edge of town. A peaceful Saturday morning on the streets, but this tranquility did not last for long.
We set up our easels across the street from the El Cortez. The security crew came out to ask us the normal questions. Their presence was appreciated on this one. We quickly saw why locals warned us. After eleven o’clock the characters began to emerge from the shadows. Unpredictability hung in the air. While I painted I had several impromptu Las Vegas history lessons involving The El Cortez. While i’m sure they weren’t as thorough and accurate as wikipedia, they were a lot more entertaining and peppered with personal accounts.
To set the scene on day 1: It was hot and dry. We had a cooler of ice. A street festival was starting a block away featuring a concert with the Kottonmouth Kings and Everlast. The line to get into the stage area took place behind us for about 45 minutes during the middle of the day. We watched many malt liquor drinks infused with caffeine get consumed. A general festive energy was in the air. The passersby were some of the most colorful people I have ever met. From our position the music was three hours of noise.
This is the birth of the El Cortez Hotel, 600 Fremont Street painting…
While checking my phone in the morning before leaving for Fremont I came across this photo of Prince from his concert the night before in Los Angeles. It reminded me of my studio in NYC where I have the Purple Rain record hanging on the wall.
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