Saturday, May 12, 2012

"Bubbles" In A Limited Edition Print...

Limited edition print!
Well, finally, here it is! My poster for the Land Grant Polo Event on Sunday, May 20th from Noon till 5:30 pm... or so! Of course, this is the "rgb" digital interpretation with type and a little Photoshop sweetning! I am happy with this effort... Lord knows what the printed version will look like!

We'll just have to wait and see!

Funny, I was, at first, inspired by an old Bart Forbes illustration, which I got from Leif Peng's illustration blog at: https://plus.google.com/111672213320663226648/posts


It then took me to my own personal file on Forbe's illustrations. I originally was thinking in these terms for the poster, but I couldn't make the imagery work to my own satisfaction. My piece, now, only has traces of Bart Forbes in it, but it was only because of my own inability to graphically represent what Forbes seems to do so effortlessly that I caved in and went to another "me."

Not that I am not happy with my own work... I am!

But, every time I run across a Forbes illustration it reminds me of a conversation I had with Bob Rodriquez, a fellow New Orleanian from way back, and an excellent artist in his own right. He and I were admiring a Forbes that had been entered in the Society of Illustrators/Los Angeles annual 'best of" show.

Well, actually, we were both drooling over it when Bob says, "His work seems so effortless, though I know he puts a lot of thought into the design before he ever begins the final piece. But it doesn't look fussed over or rendered... I love his work! I wish I could think that way." I agreed, but before I could share my thoughts about his work, Bob interjects, "I agonize over every little texture... every nuance! I wish I could paint like that." He does in a weekend what takes me weeks to complete!"

Knowing how incredible Bob's art is, I just had to agree with his assessment of himself and his style.

And after all these years, how true his words speak for the assessment of my own art!

By the way, if anyone is interested in supporting this cause, you can order a limited edition print for $25 unsigned and $30 signed by calling (985) 542-5006 or email Land Trust of Southeastern Louisiana at:  Info@ltsl.org.

P.S. I'd be flattered to personally sign your poster!

Copyright 2015-2016/Ben Bensen III

Thursday, May 10, 2012

"Bubbles" Poster... Some Type And A Tweak Or Two!

The layout formerly named, "Bubbles"...
As I have noted quite a few times, there were many funerals to attend and write about in the last two months, but, presumably, here is something a lot more fun. I was asked to create a limited edition poster for the inaugural "Conservation Cup Polo Event," promoting the polo festivities on Sunday, May 20th at Leah Farms in Folsom, LA. It is a fund raiser creating an awareness to conserving Louisiana's natural resources through the Land Trust of Southeastern Louisiana.

I finally finished this painting late last night and sent it to studio to be photographed digitally for reproduction. I alerted the photographer to take care when handling it because some sections were still drying. I originally envisioned the piece in acrylic, but decided to use oils since I hadn't painted people in acrylics in over a year and oils take days to completely dry even with the use of a dryer.

I had no time for mistakes.

About a month ago, I sketched out three concepts to present to the client and after a little bit of selling, the board chose this layout, which I called, "Bubbles" because of the circular aspect of piece emanating from the champagne glass. There were many aspects of the event as well as the reasons for the event to consider visually. I could have easily added five or six more insets to help tell the story, but wisely, the board and I felt some could be used to continue the cause... next year. You can view the three original sketches on my other site at:

http://sketchiethoughts.blogspot.com/2012/04/so-which-one-would-you-choose.html

I once thought the entire painting should be encased in an entire circular bubble with other circular insets embedded within the central piece, but when I noticed the limitations of the paper size, I was glad I decided to go conservative. For fun, I added some personal visual effects that may or may not be noticed by anyone but me.

Anyway, when I pick up the painting tomorrow morning, I will probably do some adjusting, tweaking and cleaning up some edges in Photoshop and hopefully, not have to color correct anything. ( I'm paying out of my pocket to have this shot professionally, so I won't have any surprises.) And then, it is off to the printer.

I hope everyone likes it enough to purchase a copy and maybe, have me sign it for them!

Copyright 2012/ Ben Bensen III


Friday, April 13, 2012

Ben Abadie... Rest in Peace and Thanks!

Bernard E. Ben Abadie Jr. Obituary: View Bernard Abadie's Obituary by The Times-Picayune
This is the man that got me a "scholarship" to go to Redemptorist H.S. to play baseball and football. He was good friends with my father as both had ball careers interrupted by WWII.  I met his daughter, Liz, at Hines Elementary Summer camp where, as ten year olds, we spent two summers staying out of our parents hair. Every now and then, I'd see her at American Sporting Goods where a cranky, but nice old dude named, "Monk" use to tease us. As a kid, he sort of reminded me of Popeye.

In the late fifties and early sixties, my dad used to frequent Ben's sporting goods store on Harrison Avenue to purchase equipment. I was like a kid in a... uh, sporting goods store! Baseballs and softballs individually wrapped in tissue paper in its own separate box. Catcher's mitts, four fingered Rawlings infield gloves, wool uniforms and fitted, woolen baseball caps not only stacked neatly on the shelves, but also bought and brought home where I could sample each aspect of the game. I use to love to sift through a box of a dozen Louisville Sluggers. It smelled so... so baseball like and the sound of wooden bats rattling in the box was too much to ignore! When my dad would bring the bats home, he would individually take each bat out of the box and burn a "X" across the bat's knob with a hot ice pick to distinguish his bats from other teams.

When my dad stopped playing and coaching baseball, basketball and touch football, our pilgrimages to Ben's store slowly dwindled and I didn't see him or Liz until I was a freshman in high school. The Abadies were but one of many "pillars" of the Irish Channel... and there were so many of them there.

I was a sophomore, when in biology class, I noticed a beautiful brown-eyed girl sitting two rows from me paying attention to the teacher. I was not. Little did I know then that this "biological classmate" was the cousin of my childhood, summer school friend and that the man who got me into Redemptorist was her uncle.

Pretty small world, huh? Even more coincidental was that the girl I was first smitten with and had a high school dating relationship that everyone called, "Mission Impossible," would eventually become my wife!

 So, thanks Mr. Ben Abadie for all you were and all you did for me!

Copyright 2012/ Ben Bensen III

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

"Jumble-lie, Crawfish Pie, Pheel-lay Gumbo"...



Every now and then, I mention that I cook New Orleans style food. The other day I heard someone say on the radio that New Orleans food is not healthy because there's too much fried food. Well, yes and no! I guess it depends on how you might wanna savor all those fabulous tastes while here visiting. But, if you are a native, you'd be dead in no time eating everyday what tourist eat here just visiting.

Jambalaya, pronounced "Jumba-lie-ya" by the locals, is one such dish and like potato salad, there are a million ways to make it. I once read that the Cajun version doesn't cook with tomatoes or any tomato product like paste, sauce, diced etc. and that the Creole style does. In my family and in many families, I suppose, the Creole style is jambalaya and the Cajun style we'd call "dirty rice".  One is red and the other is brown, but they both start, pretty much, the same way using flour and water or stock, onions, celery and bell pepper in varying amounts.

A few friends have asked for my recipe and I have resisted because I don't have any real set amounts of this or that. Like the old folks, who had many mouths to feed and little ingredients to work with, I make it with what I have... sometimes with shrimp and sometimes with ham or chicken and almost always sausage, andouille or hot Italian sausage. I only have two problems with jambalaya. One is that even though it is full of good things, I have been raised to eat it as a side dish not an entree. The other problem is that no matter how I try, I always make more than is necessary.

Anyway, for those that have asked for the recipe, here are my ingredients:
  Two pounds of raw shrimp, peeled, ( I'll boil the shells and heads in water for stock! )
  Two cups of brown or white rice
  One pound of Andouille or spicy Italian sausage ( but you could use wieners if you had to! )
  Half pound cooked chicken, shredded and/ or half pound diced ham
  Half stick of butter
  Four tbsp of flour
  Two 16 oz. cans of beef broth
  Four cloves garlic chopped
  Three medium white onions chopped fine
  Six scallions with leaves chopped
  Four peeled tomatoes chopped ( I usually use a large 16 oz can of diced tomatoes )
  One bell pepper, chopped
  One or two bay leaves
  Spices like thyme, cayenne allspice, cumin... all about a quarter to a half a teaspoon
  Black pepper and sea salt to taste

I usually start with a roux, but you don't have to. It takes a little practice to make a successful roux. Sometimes when I don't wanna be bothered, I just melt the butter in a large pot or Dutch oven, cook the sausage ( in a different pan... some say the sausage fat makes it taste better, but I prefer to not add that to the dish! Also, it looks more appealing when the sausage is cut in two or three inches pieces, but I've always sliced it thin. ) and ham until browned and then stir in the flour. Add the all the veggie goodies and cook them until soft and transparent. I judge how long to cook the veggies by how the onions are cooking. When they go translucent, I'm ready to then add the tomatoes and their juice and add the various spices along in the mix.

By the way, I don't have the fire on too high, more like just passed medium heat. After everything is pretty much cooking I cover the pot and turn down the heat like you would do normally to cook rice. I can add the chicken and all the rest of the liquid stock after I add the rice making sure the liquid completely covers the contents of the pot. I salt and pepper and cayenne to taste, then lastly, add the shrimp. If I am using shrimp, I seldom cook it until the last five minutes of the simmering. I prefer my shrimp not so rubbery and the rice is already simmering in shrimp stock anyway, so there's no need to throw them in any sooner. It doesn't take long for shell fish to cook! It should cook according to whether you cook white or brown rice.

The dish should be moist, but not soupy and if it comes out soupy just pretend you made gumbo instead ha! French bread warmed and whatever libation you approve of should add to the trick. It should serve about nine or ten people or, maybe, three New Orleanians!

'Dere ya go... 'dats how I do it... Bon Appetit!

Copyright 2012/Ben Bensen III

Monday, March 19, 2012

Would Have Liked To Have Known Him Better...

 Pat and I attended Tim Scully's funeral today.  According to the family, Tim suffered a heart attack, at home on Wednesday, that took his life. Apparently, Tim's family history included heart disease and, it seems, Tim was aware of that fact and enjoyed every precious moment on earth with his family and friends. His wife Donna, and the two daughters, Tari and Katy,  were very welcoming and told us many interesting stories about their life with Tim. 
I never really knew much about Tim other than the fact that he came to Redemptorist via Jesuit and Holy Cross where he and Pat attended school... though many stories abound.  Fitz and Scully both grew up in a family where the father had left their mark and then left permanently, leaving both kids to fend for themselves in Lakeview. Tim's father died when he was seven and Pat's father passed away  when Pat was but ten years old. It left a void in their hearts that was filled with each others' friendship. Buddies to the end, Tim talked Pat into trying out at the city's last resort for Catholic school students... Redemptorist, where they not only shared their junior and senior year together, but were also an important addition to our football team. Both Tim and Pat were fearless players. Tim, despite his small stature, was a force to be reckoned with at halfback and defensive back and helped our team attain a 10-2-1 record in 1968. 
But off the field, I knew very little about Tim... or Pat, for that matter!
It really was the slide show and our conversations that confirmed how rich and wonderful his life really was. Photos of his childhood, his teenage years, his Marine days in Vietnam, which apparently changed him forever, and his marriage to Donna and all the good times he spent with his two beautiful daughters, told the story of each precious moment. Pat and I were impressed that Tim's life was so well captured in photographs though I got the feeling Pat wished he could have been somehow a small part of that slide show presentation. 
Though it was such a shame that he and Tim, for whatever reason, never spent enough time together later in life, everyone, especially Tim's wife, Donna, was glad to see Pat and welcomed him with open arms. They expressed the same warmth when I introduced myself as just a fellow teammate at our high school. Patrick seemed moved by it all. Later, he and I went to Gus's, in Folsom, and had a few beers and reminisced. Somewhere out there in cyberspace is a cellphone celebration in honor of Tim in the form of a saved seat where an extra Bud was poured into a icy mug. 
Needless to say, we both miss Tim!

Thanks ever so much to our town crier, Floyd Hyer, for putting the word out about our teammate and alumni, Tim Scully, otherwise, he would have left us without anyone from the old school knowing about it and I would never have been able to share some quality time with my deceased friend, his family and the old Irishman, Patrick Fitzgerald!
 Copyright2012/ Ben Bensen III

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Jack Leynnwood's "Pearl Diver"...

Just another Jack specialty!
Through my long time association with the Society of Illustrators/ Los Angeles ( SILA for the abbreviated version ), I occasionally receive inquiries about past members. I have been pretty successful tracking down illustrators no one can find, corroborate stories of members no one believes and follow up on paintings that need an owner. Maybe, it is the Sherlock Holmes in me that takes on such silly tasks. A couple of months ago, an Art Center grad had a piece of art that he felt needed a permanent home and went to SILA to find someone who would be a taker. He wasn't asking for any compensation. He just wanted to do what was right to the artwork.

I received an email from our intrepid administrator at SILA, Alyce Heath, that this artist had an illustration for many years and was looking for a good home for it. She apparently sent emails to all members old enough to remember the creator's name, Jack Leynnwood.

I don't know who else responded, but I did... almost immediately. Twenty-four hours later, I receive an email from an illustrator, Ken Croff, currently living in Idaho and, attached to his informative letter, was a marker comp of one of Jack Leynnwood's "Pearl Divers".

 I was blown away.

In the email, Ken wrote to me, "This piece was given to me by Jack after I had asked him for some sort of scrap to be able to study.  That's Jack for you.  I really hate to part with it but it is time to share.  Since it was a gift from him I can't make myself sell it.  I will keep you informed and again thank you for your response."

In my earlier email, I responded by sending Ken some articles in my blogs about the relationship I had at Art Center with Jack along with some of the photos I had of Jack's work at Northrup. Through a couple more of emails, I suggested he call Jack's wife, JoAnne and see if the family was interested in the comp. I suspect he had already spoken to other Art Center grads in his search to find the best home for the marker comp. He probably got in touch with aviation artist, Mike Machat. Mike was close friends with Jack up to his death in 1999 and has an excellent article about Jack at: http://theboxartden.com/Artists.html. Mike probably suggested contacting Jack's daughter, Laura Lee.


A few weeks into the holidays, Ken informed me that he was sending the comp back to the family. "I have received an email from Jack's daughter, Laura Lee, and she has told me she would like the comp.  Thanks for your help and I'm sorry I got your attention on this and then had to disappoint you, but didn't know I could contact the family.  Thanks again."

I replied,"I have no problem with Laura Lee's request. The comp is where it should be... with the family!"

Seeing this in-class marker comp up close, it is incredible to notice that it actually was rendered in marker and probably demoed it in class.  I've made my living rendering, at times quite realistically, with Ad and Design Markers, but my technique was totally different than what Jack was teaching at school. When you work in those markers on opaque paper, you have to have command of all of your values because there is no erasing once a wrong stroke is made. In a closer look, the skin textures tell me Jack was probably using the back side of a Bienfang Admaster pad, but it could just as easily have been demonstrated on loose leaf paper. It would make little difference to him, I suspect.

I mentioned to Ken that the real beauty of this comp, besides the clean use of graphic shapes within the layout, was the nonchalance of the paper and the medium. It defines Jack so well. That is, to him, it was no big deal. ( He's probably snickering his ass off at my attempt to describe the simplistic beauty of this comp! Notice the very distinctive way he renders seagulls. It always was a giveaway to Jack's illustrations... that is if you needed one! )

He always tried to keep it simple. It was like he was saying it's not the tools you use as much as it is the person using them. No art pencil is gonna make you a better artist than a good, old yellow No.2 . Jack certainly knew what to do with that No. 2! His disdain for art pencils in favor of a simple Ticonderoga No. 2 was a classic and reminded me of my father's disdain for ball players blaming the errors made during a game on your glove. Jack and my father both came from the same stock and had much in common.

Maybe, for me, Jack was my California replacement for a father. Maybe it was that way for many of his students!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Yes, l Was A Football Player Too...

SWISH?
The other day I was having breakfast at the local restaurant in Folsom. It was one of those times where everyone is leaving just as you arrive, but it was okay because I really just wanted to sit and be quiet, eating my Greek omelet and perusing the newspaper for the latest political gaffe.

When I'm alone, close to the kitchen door, I always roll up a used napkin and attempt a three point shot from where I sit. I don't do it when all my friends, or my wife, are present. Therese thinks it is in poor taste and she's embarrassed no matter whether I make the shot or not. I don't shoot from three point range when my friends are present because they all give me a hard time about missing such a easy lay up.

But on this late morning Tuesday, there were only a few patrons. Many of the folks arrive at Gus's in shifts for their early morning coffee and eggs, grits, bacon and toast. One group consists of plow boys and cowboys, who would either arrive before or after their chores. Then, around seven o'clock or so, you'd get the commuters waiting to get their coffee mugs filled and hang around a bit for some local gossip.

The retired and church going folks arrive around eight or eight thirty depending on how long the sermon is. They are the most laid back, loyal and noisiest bunch of the morning. I surmise it is so noisy because no one is wearing their hearing aids when the mass sermon is being given and they forget to turn them back on once they arrive at the restaurant. But now, it was mid morning, and it was the calm before the lunch storm.

Basketball was never a game that I could play well even though my grandfather built me and my other brother a basketball goal from wood. It was built to the regulation height with a 3/4 inch plywood backboard bolted to two 1" by 6" pressured treated posts which were cemented deep into the ground. It also came with a metal rim and nylon netting. It was very cool having also a concreted area which my grandfather built in our backyard that measured about twenty by thirty feet.

It made little difference.

I couldn't shoot, dribble in traffic or even dribble alone. Dunking had not been created yet and it was just as well because I couldn't jump very high either. At an early age, I was the team mascot for my dad's company team, including football, baseball and basketball. The game never did appeal to me like baseball and football did, even though to this day, I still try my hand at sinking a twenty footer.

So, I took a napkin that I used as a coaster for my glass of cold water, rolled it up, looked around for the waitress's interference and then took a long, high shot hoping to make a clean "swish." Sometimes, I can get lucky and go two for three in the amount of time it takes at breakfast to require three or four napkins. On this day, I only used one and naturally, I missed the bucket. So, with a sigh, I got up from the table to pick up the wayward basketball, and as I came up from doing so, I tried a "turn around fade" shot, which again, is just off the edge of the basket.

Okay, I thought to myself, 0 for 2. It is just not my day. I'll just slam this puppy into the basket, "Kobe style" and be done with it. With a half-hearted effort, just in case someone is looking, I nonchalantly turn and drop the napkin into the basket.

I missed it again... from practically right over the basket. Dejectedly, I pick up the "ball with it's own agenda" and hand delivered it deep into what is now just a garbage can. Walking back to my table, shrugging off a pitiful performance, I hear a voice say rather sympathetically, " Football player, eh?"

"Yeh, says the now bearded, stocky man sporting a camo LSU baseball cap. " I was a football player at one time and can't play basketball worth a damn either!"

We commiserated and enjoyed a pretty good chuckle at each others' expense... One linebacker to another!

Copyright 2012/ Ben Bensen III