some whale hunt in process

poster
(The Whale Hunt)

Whaling was once one of the United States great industries.  Whalers from Nantucket would sail all around the world for years at a time in chase of their quarry. In their sail driven ships, these whalers would often traverse unmapped section of the world. While those islands that were mapped often were understood to be inhabited by cannibals.

    Life on these boats was cramped, smelly, dangerous, and poorly paid. Wages paid to whalers were often 2-3 times less than the lowest paid shore laborer. Yet many men like Ishmael, or the writer Herman Melville himself, felt the calling to sign up for this hunt.

    Spermaceti, the best and most valuable oil, came from the great Sperm Whale. The Sperm whale, unlike all other commercially hunted whale, have been documented fighting back. The whaling ships Essex and Ann Alexander were sunk after encounters with angry Sperm Whales, and many a man lost his life in the countless other dangers that made up life on these whaling boats.

1:


"Why sing ye not out for him, if ye see him?" cried Ahab, when, after the lapse of some minutes since the first cry, no more had been heard. "Sway me up, men; ye have been deceived; not moby dick casts one odd jet that way, and then disappears."
"Aye, breach your last to the sun, Moby Dick!" cried Ahab, "thy hour and thy harpoon are at hand! - Down! down all of ye, but one man at the fore. The boats! - stand by!

2:"Pull, pull, my fine hearts-alive; pull, my children; pull, my little ones," drawingly and soothingly sighed Stubb to his crew, some of whom still showed signs of uneasiness. "Why don't you break your backbones, my boys? What is it you stare at? Those chaps in yonder boat? Tut! They are only five more hands come to help us - never mind from where - the more the merrier. Pull, then, do pull; never mind the brimstone - devils are good fellows enough. So, so; there you are now; that's the stroke for a thousand pounds; that's the stroke to sweep the stakes! Hurrah for the gold cup of sperm oil, my heroes!

3:Again: as the profound calm which only apparently precedes and prophesies of the storm, is perhaps more awful than the storm itself; for, indeed, the calm is but the wrapper and envelope of the storm; and contains it in itself, as the seemingly harmless rifle holds the fatal powder, and the ball, and the explosion; so the graceful repose of the line, as it silently serpentines about the oarsmen before being brought into actual play - this is a thing which carries more of true terror than any other aspect of this dangerous affair. But why say more? All men live enveloped in whale-lines. All are born with halters round their necks; but it is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life. And if you be a philosopher, though seated in the whale-boat, you would not at heart feel one whit more of terror, than though seated before your evening fire with a poker, and not a harpoon, by your side.

4:"Pray God, not that; yet I fear something, Captain Ahab. Is not this harpoon for the White Whale?"
"For the white fiend! But now for the barbs; thou must make them thyself, man. Here are my razors - the best of steel; here, and make the barbs sharp as the needle-sleet of the Icy Sea."
For a moment, the old blacksmith eyed the razors as though he would fain not use them.
"Take them, man, I have no need for them; for I now neither shave, sup, nor pray till - but here - to work!"

5:

At length as the craft was cast to one side, and ran ranging along with the White Whale's flank, he seemed strangely oblivious of its advance - as the whale sometimes will - and Ahab was fairly within the smoky mountain mist, which, thrown off from the whale's spout, curled round his great, Monadnock hump; he was even thus close to him; when, with body arched back, and both arms lengthwise high-lifted to the poise, he darted his fierce iron, and his far fiercer curse into the hated whale.

6:
"Great God! but for one single instant show thyself," cried Starbuck; "never, never wilt thou capture him, old man - In Jesus' name no more of this, that's worse than devil's madness. Two days chased; twice stove to splinters; thy very leg once more snatched from under thee; thy evil shadow gone - all good angels mobbing thee with warnings: - what more wouldst thou have? - Shall we keep chasing this murderous fish till he swamps the last man? Shall we be dragged by him to the bottom of the sea? Shall we be towed by him to the infernal world? Oh, oh, - Impiety and blasphemy to hunt him more!"

7:



--Suddenly the waters around them slowly swelled in broad circles; then quickly upheaved, as if sideways sliding from a submerged berg of ice, swiftly rising to the surface. A low rumbling sound was heard; a subterraneous hum; and then all held their breaths; as bedraggled with trailing ropes, and harpoons, and lances, a vast form shot lengthwise, but obliquely from the sea. Shrouded in a thin drooping veil of mist, it hovered for a moment in the rainbowed air; and then fell swamping back into the deep. Crushed thirty feet upwards, the waters flashed for an instant like heaps of fountains, then brokenly sank in a shower of flakes, leaving the circling surface creamed like new milk round the marble trunk of the whale.-- 

8:



Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.

some Don Quixote shots

It's killing me how bad these photos show the experience you get.  It's really best to see them in person.
Don Quixote inspired story. Oil on Unstretched canvas.

windsor mckay study

a large study of a whale hunt from Little Nemo. These are great visual short stories, where the dream-state allows the artist to prioritize the images over a "rational" story.

moby dick studies

small studies of a whale hunt series. oil glaze over acrylic.

Metropolis´s Jungle Giants story

Another comic-like story. 

This one based off of an old comic. The next project is a more like an illustrated book, with the text seperated from the images. 

(the images are bad, sorry)

Metropolis Page

A page a small shot of the workspace. 

V.G. progress

V. has added some more panels to connect the actions happening in the panels. 

Second story finished by Gene Fitness.

Story 2. 

app. 6' x 4.5'. Acrylic on canvas.

rm1

The bold eventually make their way here.

 Preying on the solitary and detached. The impudent and independent. 

It is only a matter of time befor I tire of their habits,
useful as they are.

The bold eventually make their way here. Moving like ghosts among us,  they keep my children from forgetting

it is only a matter of time before habit dulls instinct, and sacrifice makes us stronger.

end rm1


RM 2

--

The bold eventually come to understand. I have studied their strengths well.

 Like an arrow to the heart, they realize their fate

when they see their boldness in their prey


room2


 On Old Earth, eagles were very dangerous predators. They had razor-sharp claws that could easily rend flesh from bone. Even more advantageous was a specialized skin cell--called feathers--with which they could lift themselves into the skies.  This ability to strike, out of thin air, forced the eagles' prey to be constantly vigilant out of fear for their own lives. 

Human hunters made up for their lack of specialized natural abilities by their prowess in making and using tools. By using the eagles' feather structures as stabilizers for projectiles, a hunter could strike from distances outside the range of awareness of their prey, and even more importantly: beyond the reach of retribution. From that point on, even the eagle feared the hunter. 

This is the original aesop fable from which I created the story

  The Eagle and the Arrow


  An Eagle was soaring through the air when suddenly it heard
the whizz of an Arrow, and felt itself wounded to death.  Slowly
it fluttered down to the earth, with its life-blood pouring out of
it.  Looking down upon the Arrow with which it had been pierced,
it found that the shaft of the Arrow had been feathered with one
of its own plumes.  "Alas!" it cried, as it died,


 "We often give our enemies the means for our own destruction."

two more pages of Gene Fitness's comic

I still don't know about how I could incorporate text, or what kind of text would even work, but it seems like it might be necessary to clarify the story. I'm getting a little better at getting a range of values, I like the noirish look, but I have been wrestling with getting straight lines to contrast with the painted lines. I ordered a device that is supposed to make them, so we'll see in about a week...

Vlad's drawings

Here are some beautiful drawings by Vlad. How they will be arranged still needs to be worked out, but that will be developed in tandem with the imagery. 

Gene Fitness's new panels

Still working out how the markmaking is going to work, but getting closer. Really haven't had much time to work on these. Next month I plan to work some serious hours on them. I do find that putting in a little at a time though still allows for some nice progression.

First Panel

 

First panel, painted in acrylic. I'm still wresting with the medium here and this is looking very comic booky so I'm interested to see how these change as I make more.

painted studies

God Catcher page

2nd version of drawing