Onward, Ever Onward

Posted by Salvador Castío

 

     In the fall of 1971, when I was five years old, I had a peculiar experience that changed my life forever. Up until now, only a handful of people have heard this story. One afternoon, in my kindergarten class, I was standing in front of an easel, blissfully splattering tempera paint onto a large sheet of construction paper. Like all the other kids in my class, I focused on creating something from the large blobs of color I was applying to my paper’s surface. I was, as they say nowadays, in the zone. During those moments of complete concentration, I had a vision that I have never forgotten. The blobs of color on my sheet of paper transformed into a scene before my eyes. Suddenly my brush strokes of alizarin crimson and cobalt blue had become the inside of a large, ornate building. I recall standing in silence, taking everything in. The room I was standing in was vast, and large framed paintings adorned its walls. I remember scanning the room slowly from top to bottom and side to side. Suddenly, something caught my eye. In the distance, in one of the large frames, was the painting I had been creating in my classroom. I’m not claiming clairvoyance at the age of five, nor do I claim to have been able to articulate what was occurring at that moment. Still, intuitively, I understood the message behind what I was seeing. I stood there frozen in disbelief as I looked at my work on that enormous wall. There was no question that what I saw that day was my destiny. I have never once doubted what happened that day. I’m damn lucky, and I know it. Not everyone knows what they want to do for the rest of their life at age five.

       My first-grade teacher, whose name I’ve sadly forgotten, confirmed what I already knew when she pulled my mom aside during a parents’ night at school to tell her that her son had real talent that she should nurture and encourage. My mom didn’t miss a beat and began her lifelong support of helping me achieve my goals, including going to art school and becoming a professional. 

     I can’t begin to tell you how much art has helped me over the past five decades and how, in many ways, it has saved me as well. In elementary school, I was your classic nerd kid. Black, thick-rimmed glasses, funky haircut, and insecure as fuck. To make things even worse, I had a noticeable strabismus and struggled with math. All those things made me a prime target for all the tiny assholes in my class. There were days when I felt like I was in hell. The insults, put-downs, and vicious cracks at my expense went on for years. 

     Thankfully, art was always there to help console me; it has never failed me. During those difficult years, I realized that I could do something unique that others couldn’t do. That gave me inner strength. I may have felt great insecurity because of my awkward appearance and weak math skills, but my talent was iron-clad and untouchable. I wasn’t the best at drawing in school – some kids drew better than me, but that didn’t matter. Nothing was going to stop me from developing and refining my talent. That realization, more than any other, sealed my fate. It was the one area where I had total control.

     I come from humble beginnings: I lived in the projects on Section 8 housing in my youth. There, I began to read comics and became exposed to art. Comic books opened up another world for me. Along with their fantastic tales of heroic do-gooders and sinister villains, they also exposed me to the brilliant draftsmanship of Neil Adams and the genius-level imagination of Jack Kirby. Because of that, all I ever wanted to do was draw, draw, draw. You have lots of time to fill when you’re an only child, and nothing does that better than drawing. I may have lived in the projects, but comics lit the flame that continues to burn brightly to this very day. Art not only allowed me to survive those challenging years but also to grow as a person.

     My mom knew no boundaries when it came to supporting my talent. Because of her never-ending efforts, I am the artist I am today. Despite money being tight, she made things happen for me. When I was thirteen, I got my first drawing table. A year later, I had my first formal art classes. My tutor was a local artist named John Sierra. John had a large studio in an industrial area of Fresno where he worked on mural designs. I still remember the large rolls of paper stretched out over the studio’s floors. His work was excellent, and I benefitted greatly from his expertise. He taught me the fundamentals of drawing: basic shapes, shading, and perspective. Those things were eye-opening for me. I continued my education at fifteen via a two-year correspondence course through Art Instruction Schools. Without telling my parents, I replied to the “Draw me'” ad from TV Guide. The next thing you know, there was a rep from the school in our living room, signing me up for a two-year stint. That course expanded my knowledge by teaching me basic color theory, multi-point perspective, and composition. That course aided in my development throughout high school. In 1985, Otis Art Institute of Parsons School of Design accepted me into their illustration program. I was only there for a semester, but my time there left its mark – it instilled a level of excellence that has never left me. Parsons School of Design ranks as one of the world’s best art and design colleges, and I remain fiercely proud of my time there. My art school odyssey continued throughout the late eighties and early nineties in San Francisco. My educational journey finally came to a close in 1992 when I finished my studies at the Academy of Art College, where I majored in illustration. 

     In my formative years, my artist heroes set the bar for me. They also reinforced the belief that I’d had since childhood that I could be great at what I do if I worked hard and long enough. More than any other, that belief has helped me weather all the uncertainties and personal changes that I’ve experienced over the past three decades. To make art, you have to believe in yourself and what you do. To do great work, you have to be willing to play the long game. That requires an unusual amount of patience. There are no shortcuts – either you put in the time at the drawing board or don’t.

     I’ve come a long way since my vision of my future at five and my discovery of art through comic books in the early 1970s; my taste in art and my skill have expanded significantly since then. I have never been ashamed of where I come from and will always be proud of that. However, that does not mean I wanted to stay there either. When you come from a modest background, it pushes you to achieve your goals or kills them. Over the past thirty-five years, I have been through many changes and ups and downs. All through it, I have continued to draw and strive. Onward, ever onward.  

Drawing used in this post

In 1868, Burne-Jones was in the throes of a turbulent affair with Maria Zambaco, his Anglo-Greek muse, and model. During that period, Burne-Jones produced an extraordinary series of pencil drawings of Maria. I based my drawing for this post on one of these drawings. I don’t pretend that my drawing captures the subtlety inherent in EBJ’s brilliant drawing – pencil, pen, and pen and ink are two completely different mediums, each with their unique properties. I wouldn’t consider this a finished piece by any means; it’s a study. Maria Zambaco remains a bit of an enigma to this day. New details about her life have emerged over the past decade, but a lot remains unknown about her. Burne-Jones ended his affair with Maria in 1869. Over the next decade, he became the most celebrated Pre-Raphaelite painter of the late nineteenth century. Maria eventually moved to Paris and continued her artistic career working with people like Aguste Rodin. She died there in 1914.

 

 

 

Up A Tree

Posted by Salvador Castío

 

     One of the challenges of writing a fortnightly blog is accepting that real life can and will step in and throw a wrench into the best laid out plans. I wrote and edited the blog post that you should be reading right now a week ago and had gotten pretty far into the drawing that will be accompanying it as well. As you know, I work in pen and ink, and if you’re somewhat familiar with that medium, you know that making corrections can be time-consuming. To my utter horror, yesterday evening, I realized that the drawing that I’ve been working on was off and had to stop and correct the error. Correcting mistakes in pen and ink involves applying a copious amount of white designers gouache to the affected area. The gouache then needs to be allowed to dry before any redrawing can start to happen. Precious time gets eaten up between things such as covering the error, redrawing, and reinking. 

      Those things were the least of my worries as real life had bigger plans for little ol’ me. Over the weekend, our landlord informed us that people would be coming to trim the trees around the house. In all honesty, I didn’t even give it a second thought. Why should I? I was too busy putting together this week’s blog post, so why should I care? Here’s why: on Monday morning, the quiet bliss of my petit atelier was hijacked by the raucous cacophony of chainsaws and men bickering back and forth in Spanish. Being a fluent Spanish speaker, I couldn’t help being a Gladys Kravitz. I heard the old guy in the bunch tell one of the younger workers, “Oye, ¿sabes qué? No sabes nada y es mejor que te calles la boca.” Oh man, it was getting tense up there, and it wasn’t even noon yet. The old guy didn’t take crap from anyone, and he wasn’t scared to speak his mind either. That dear reader is what’s known in Spanish as hablar sin pelos en la lengua. The unnerving buzz of chainsaws, the clanking of ladders, and the bickering in Spanish went on for three days. 

     All this made it impossible to concentrate and get my drawing done in time. After three days, the buzz of those chainsaws had me up a tree. Making art and chainsaws don’t mix well unless you’re making sculptures from tree trunks. Anyhow, instead of leaving you wondering why this week’s blog post got delayed, I thought I’d serve you a tasty little tapa and fill you in on the events of the past three days. Fear not – this week’s post will be appearing over the next few days, along with a spectacular new drawing.

About the drawing used in this post

The drawing used in this post was done two years ago and meant to be finished and published in a blog post, but for some reason, it got lost in the shuffle of daily creative life. I based my drawing on a painting by Burne-Jones, my artist-hero and guiding light. I want to finish this and publish it in an upcoming blog post. Now that fall has arrived and winter is around the corner, I can settle in and start catching up on the mountain of projects that have piled up over the years. 

 

 

A Week In Review

Posted by Salvador Castío

Dr. Nina Ansary (Preliminary). 2020. Pen, ink, and gouache in sketchbook. 

Today will be another might-as-well-be-living-in-Sub-Saharan-Africa day in the Central Valley. Summers here are relentless and unforgiving and their effect on my ability to be creative is just one more hurdle I have to overcome in my daily routine. It is what it is.

This week I will continue to give you an insight into what it’s like to be a professional, working artist in the 21st Century. This week I am going to give you a peak into a working week from start to finish, warts and all.

Monday: My days start early, usually between 6:30 and 7:00 am. I normally start them with a book and my first of many cups of coffee. It’s always been important for me to read – an artist who doesn’t read is shallow in personality and short on ideas. I love reading about the lives of artists that I admire; it gives me an understanding of what I’m doing and where I’m going. 

This morning, I’m starting work on the second version of a portrait of Dr. Nina Ansary. My first preliminary pen and ink drawing adorns this week’s post. As always, I feel that it can be better, so I’ll likely redraw it. If I’m lucky, I’ll finish work on my preliminary pencil drawing by this afternoon amidst the sweltering and unbearable heat in my petit atelier. The drawing will be in a very elementary state: a tight but loose sketch that’s ready to be traced and transferred to my tracing pad where it will be refined. That probably won’t happen until tomorrow at the earliest because I’ve got lots of other projects that I need to get to. The pieces that I will be producing in the coming months are important to me and will likely be some of the best work that I’ll ever do. Great art takes time to create and I intend for these to be nothing short of extraordinary. After all these years, I’m still full of piss and vinegar, so without any hesitation whatsoever I can say that I will be going balls out on this new work and pulling no punches in its execution. My time has become precious and I despise wasting it. Most of these ideas are in a preliminary phase and there’s an unimaginable amount of hours left before I can even begin to fathom putting pen to paper and bringing them to completion. 

Tuesday: This morning my work continues on my second portrait of Dr. Ansary. I traced and transferred what I did yesterday over to my tracing pad, so now I can begin to refine and hone the drawing to where I want it to be – this usually happens after multiple tracings. Once I’ve got the drawing where I want it to be, I’ll trace it onto a thick sheet of 3 ply Strathmore series 500 Bristol board and start inking it with Rapidograph technical pens. 

By late in the afternoon, I’ve worked up my pencil preliminary of Dr. Ansary to a satisfactory level and move on to other projects. I’m in the process of organizing a publicity event for later this year that will showcase some of the new work that I’ve been talking about. All of my new work will reflect my love of 19th and 20th Century art, especially Pre-Raphaelite painters such as Sir Edward Burne-Jones and fin de siècle Symbolist painters, draftsman, and engravers such as Carlos Schwabe, Alphonse Mucha, and Gustave Doré. My new work will be a mélange of these influences and reflect personal interests such as Spanish cante, Moorish art, ancient English storytelling, and a myriad of others.

Wednesday: It’s midweek, and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with the process of choosing which projects I want to work on in the coming months. Don’t get me wrong, I want to work on all of them, but I need to zero in on the ones that need to get done sooner. It’s tough doing this because all of these projects are important to me. This feeling isn’t anything new to me, however; it’s part of my creative process. Big projects usually start like this and slowly but surely get organized in my mind. That normally takes place late at night when I’m lying wide awake ruminating on what to do. 

Today was a scorcher. When I say scorcher, you should know that it’s an understatement. I was only half joking earlier when I called the weather here in The Valley Sub-Saharan. Summers here in the Central Valley can be brutal with stretches of days where the weather is over 100° F. The heat is stifling and makes it a challenge to be creative. Scorching weather or not, the show must go on. The COVID-19 pandemic has changed the dynamic for everyone including me. Initially I found myself struggling to adapt to it. My wife is a private tutor who usually goes from home to home all afternoon and evening, but all that changed with this pandemic. I was used to days where I could take a break and either read or watch TV whenever I wanted to, but that was taken away from me when my wife started working from home. The first month and a half were kind of rough and I wondered how I was going to adapt to the change. Thankfully, my wife and I worked together to develop a solution. I wake up early and have the morning hours to myself and she stays up late and enjoys the quiet hours of the night. In addition, time has helped resolve the issue. I’m grateful that both my wife and I are able to continue working and doing what we do amidst this worldwide tragedy. 

Thursday: Today it seems as if the universe has listened to my pleas and bestowed a cool and cloudy day upon me. The preliminary pen and ink that adorns this post is something that I’ve been working on over the past few days along with everything else I’ve mentioned. I’m done inking it and making corrections, so it’s time to scan it and get it ready for posting to my social media accounts. The drawing is well done and whatnot, but I’m not sure I’ve captured my subject’s elegance and aplomb. It’s a solid start that will lead to a much stronger drawing when it gets worked up into a more finished piece.

Out of the blue, I’ve decided to start writing the post you’re currently reading a little ahead of schedule because I’m driven to do it; I spend the better part of my afternoon at the computer pounding out the beginnings of this post. The urge to write is something that’s becoming stronger as time goes on. Aside from these weekly blog posts, I’ve also started working on two manuscripts and a collection of short snippets of random moments. I’m not a writer per se, but I like to write, so this will now become part of my creative output – albeit at a much slower rate than my visual art. 

Friday: The universe continues to bless me with cool and cloudy weather. Praise. Today I’m looking forward to continuing all the preliminary work for my upcoming projects. One of the main factors that will differentiate this new work from things I’ve done in the past is that many of these new pieces will be substantially larger than previous work. This obviously means that it will take an even greater amount of time to complete most of the work I have planned. The most exciting thing about these new pieces is that I’ve been keeping a list of “Projects I Will Someday Have the Skill to Complete” for the past 35 years and I finally feel technically ready to undertake the work required to bring these ideas to fruition.

The week is ending on a good note. I ‘m feeling more productive than I have in quite some time. Work on all my projects is moving ahead, and I’ve got everything I need in order to move forward with everything that I want to do over the coming months. Onward, ever onward.  

Creating A Drawing

Posted by Salvador Castío
1. Prelim sketch. 2. Second phase prelim pencil. 3. First version. 4. Second and final version.

People often inquire about how I go about creating a drawing, so I thought I’d take this week’s post to answer that often asked question. 

The drawing that I’ll be using as an example for this post is my brooding pen and ink portrait of painter and poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti, cofounder of the English Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. When I decide to draw a portrait of someone, the person has to intrigue me in one way or another – there has to be a fair amount of depth and intrigue to them. If you know anything about Rossetti, you’ll understand why I chose to draw him: painter, poet, translator, visionary, and one of Victorian England’s greatest figures; the choice to draw him wasn’t difficult. 

The first step in my process is the search for good photo reference. This is a practice that was drilled into my head when I was an illustration major in art school and one that I’ve not abandoned despite no longer considering myself an illustrator. Fortunately, I found a great portrait of DGR by preeminent Victorian photographer, Frederick Hollyer. The next step is the preparatory pencil sketch where I establish all the angles and proportions of the face and where I start to indicate facial features. I usually do this using a Rotring 800 mechanical pencil using HB lead. I did my drawing in a Stillman & Birn softcover Alpha sketchbook. SB uses really sturdy paper so things like repeated erasing usually isn’t a problem. SB sketchbooks also take ink really well. This first stage is often the hardest as I have to make sure that all the angles and proportions are just right so that I don’t have to go back and correct mistakes later. Correcting mistakes that could have been avoided is just a waste of my time. 

In the next phase, I start to work up the subject‘s features in order to bring forth their personality. Features are a tricky thing; again, lots of attention must be paid to them at this stage so that the personality of the subject comes through. Setting a drawing aside for a day or two will aid greatly in picking out any mistakes that have been made. Once the preliminary drawing is at a solid stage of completion it’s time to move on to the final and most tedious stage: rendering in ink. 

The majority of my ink work is done with Koh-I-Noor Rapidograph technical pens. I favor point 0/.35 for most of my work. I prefer Rapidographs because they use real ink and are refillable. I’m no fan of supposedly modern disposable pens like those made by Micron. I tried them years ago and they felt flimsy and unreliable. My Rapidographs are solid pens that haven’t failed me in 35 years. 

The first thing I do when I start to render my drawing in ink is to outline the subject’s features. Once that’s done, I start to thicken my line work by going over my lines to add variety and depth to my them. At this point I start putting in the darkest values in so that I can contrast all lesser values against them. I repeat this until I achieve an overall and pleasing balance. Once this balance is achieved, I correct any and all mistakes with Winsor Newton white designer’s gouache. 

I’ve included my original version of my portrait  and the updated one I did a few months later. The drawing didn’t feel right when I finished it; some of the proportions were off and the value balance was off. Using gouache, I whited out a portion of his forehead at the hairline and shortened it. I also whited out some of the hair on the back of his head as well. In addition, I darkened the background. These changes really brought the drawing together and brought out that brooding quality that’s evident in Rossetti’s features. 

Pen and ink is amongst the most challenging of mediums to work with. It’s similar to watercolor in that everything must be well thought out before the actual rendering begins and because there’s very little room for mistakes. Yes, you can white out mistakes with gouache but it’s better not to make those mistakes to begin with. Pen and ink is also challenging to work with because of the difficulty in achieving subtleties in shading. Unlike pencil, pen and ink requires a lot more work in order to achieve this. If there’s one thing that’s true about pen and ink it’s that a well executed drawing has a definitive power to it that is unique to this drawing medium.

Lux Aeterna

Posted by Salvador Castío


When I woke up on the morning of February 24, 2005, I did so knowing that on that day I would have to do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do: ask my mother if she wanted to continue living. I also knew that I would have to respect her decision no matter what it was. I sat by her bedside and held her hand on that overcast day and asked her three times if she wanted to continue onward. Each time she said no. Like most people, I was ill prepared to deal with this. All I could do was roll with the tide of uncertainty that had already enveloped my daily existence and hope that I’d survive it and not fall into that dark abyss that I teetered closer and closer to with each passing day. 

In that turbulent era, I adopted a daily mantra. It was something that my mom had said throughout my life and now I was telling it to myself: Onward. Ever onward. Those words defined my mother and how she lived every day of her life. When my mom turned 40 she was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. Rheumatoid arthritis is a long-term autoimmune disorder that primarily affects joints. A common sign that someone has it is a gradual deformation of limbs such as hands. In its advanced stages, RA also attacks organs. Ultimately it was this that took my mom’s life at 70 years old. 

During the thirty years that she lived with this disorder, my mom fought the good fight each and every single day. I once asked her how she could live with such pain on a daily basis, and she said something that I’ve never forgotten, “I have accepted the pain, but I have to continue onward ever onward,” or, as she would say in Spanish, “Pa’lante, siempre pa’lante.” My mom was a fighter. 

Had it not been for rheumatoid arthritis I would have had my mom at least another decade. To say that I feel cheated by life would be a massive understatement. I wish she could have met my wife; she would have loved her – my mom always had a great respect for educators and education. I wish she could have seen me evolve and refine my talent to the level that I have. My brush and ink portrait of Auguste Rodin from 2013 would have thrilled her to no end. Despite the fact that my mother had zero formal art training, she loved art and never doubted my ability or my future. She always said that my brushwork was something special, and her eyes would have glistened with pride on seeing the brushwork on that portrait of Rodin. Alas, my mother will never meet my wife; she will never see the development of my skill and the work that I am producing now and will produce in the future. Although she’s no longer physically with me, however, she is more a part of me now than ever before. Now she is always with me; wherever I go, she’s there. She’s never far away. Her fighting spirit lives within me. She is my lux aeterna; an eternal light shining in my heart. 

My mom always believed in me and supported my talent. “Art is in the blood,” she would say to me, “and you have that.” My gratitude to her for her belief in me and her support of my talent is unending. It’s because of my mom that I’m an artist. From the time I was a small child, she astutely understood that her one and only son had a talent for making art. She always made sure that I had what I needed: books, supplies, tutors, etc. Despite my mom never believing that my talent came from her, she had an innate sense of design that became more and more obvious to me as I went through art school. Her sense of design was completely natural; she had never been taught about design and yet there it was. She always had a knack for putting things together and having them just look right. I’m never in doubt that this is where my own sense of design comes from. 

After she passed in 2005, I lost my way and my skill diminished. For so long I was unable to focus on my work and unable to sit and allow the ideas to flow from my brain like the ink from my pen. I never stopped drawing altogether, but I felt like I had suffered such a set back. It was like it put me years behind. However, I always remembered my mom’s words and her spirit: Onward. Ever onward. I learned from my mother to never ever give up, so I kept fighting, kept pushing, and now I’m seeing that fight pay off. Now, I draw better than I ever have. Because of that the direction that my work will now follow has become very clear to me. 

My mom always believed that I had the talent and the skill to be great. She made a lot of sacrifices to make sure I got the education to make that happen. She knew that the education she was giving me would live on long after she was gone. She used to tell me that the education she was giving me was the sword that would help get me through life. A decade and a half after I sat next to her on that overcast February day, saying goodbye and holding her hand, her fighting spirit is burning more brightly within me than ever before. She believed that I could be great and I don’t intend to disappoint her. 

The drawing that accompanies this post is a pen and ink study from my sketchbook for a larger drawing that I plan on doing later this year.

Don’t Think About It Too Much

Posted by Salvador Castío


This week, I decided to start writing my weekly blog post without any preconceived idea and without a pre-drawn image. I usually have a bunch of random thoughts running through my mind so I thought that I’d make use of them. In the few days that I’ve been pondering on what I would write about I just happen to complete a new drawing that I thought I’d share with you.

Originally, I was going to write about all the thoughts I’ve been having in regard to making changes, and moving forward, but at the last minute I changed my mind because I didn’t want to write a long winded post that sounded like me making a resolution. Instead, I’ve decided to be more direct and write about some of the things that I’ll be doing in the coming months. 

If you remember, in my last post I spoke about a series of drawings of women that I want to do over the coming months; my original idea was to draw some of the fabulous female friends that I have — I still intend to do that, but now, I’d decided to expand on my idea to include notable women in general. By doing this I am giving myself a greater variety to draw from. I’d like the drawings to be mostly in pencil but I don’t want to limit myself either. So, you’ll likely be seeing portraits in a variety of drawing media. The pen and ink drawing of my friend Jennifer from last post is the first official drawing in this new series. The of drawing of Jennifer that I used was from my sketchbook, but I intend to work it up into a finished piece. Keep an eye out for it because I’m sure it’ll be fabulous. 

The drawing that adorns this week’s post is of Jane Morris, wife of Willam Morris, muse and lover of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, and Pre-Raphaelite icon. I first discovered the work of The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (PRB) at age 16 and have remained fascinated with their work ever since. The story behind many of the women that posed for various members of the group are interesting portraits of individuals living in Victorian England. Many of the men in the group were well known in the Victorian era and outwardly appeared to adhere to the rigid morals of the time. However, in the studio and alone with their models it was a different story. These men and women spent hours alone together confiding in each other and building a trust amongst themselves. They poured their hearts out one another and not all were happy in their marriages. So you can imagine how easy it was for affairs to start. The affair between Rossetti and Jane Morris is probably the most well known when it comes to the Pre-Raphaelites. Their story is full of all of the elements that make for a good read: drama, pathos, and tragedy. The men in The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood were like rock stars in their day and some these women were the equivalent of modern day groupies. Photographs of these women are hard to come by as photography had just started to be widely used; Jane was most likely the most photographed muse in the group and therefore the easiest to find reference material on. I found the undated  drawing that I used to work from in a random Internet search sometime last year. To my delight, I discovered a wonderful photo that clearly displays Jane’s iconic looks in all their splendor. I had started the drawing months ago and it hung around my studio until last week when I finally completed it. The term stunner was coined by Rossetti for Jane. As you can see, he wasn’t exaggerating. 

I had a wonderful time drawing this portrait and I am eagerly looking forward to the next one. All of the drawings in this series will be scanned and put up for sale in the gallery section of this site. I’ll probably wait until I have a few done before I start adding them. If you see one that interests you please contact me via the contact form and I will provide you with all the details.