Thursday

Rough Trade Resister – 16x20” Semi Nude Drawing, Crayon & Pastel on Tan Paper by Kenney Mencher

 

This drawing is called Rough Trade Resister. It plays with another classic queer archetype—the tough guy, the working-class hunk, the man who looks like he might be trouble... and that’s the point. He’s got the beard, the cap, and the rough physicality that taps into a kind of raw masculinity that’s deeply coded in gay visual culture.

But look closer. The cap reads RESIST, and it’s signed with my name and the year. That’s not just branding—it’s part of the message. This figure might look like he's part of a power fantasy, but he’s also resisting the idea that queerness has to be tidy, sanitized, or made palatable.

I used black crayon and white pastel on warm tan paper to emphasize the texture of the body hair, the play of light on his chest and abs, and to carve out the form without fully finishing it. There’s something unfinished and raw about the whole thing—almost like a protest sketch that became erotic.

The facial features are mostly hidden in shadow under the brim of the cap, and that’s intentional too. It makes the body itself the focus, but also allows the viewer to project, to imagine, to take part in shaping the fantasy. That anonymity is part of what gives it its heat—and its universality.

Stylistically, it flirts with the boldness of Tom of Finland’s work, but strips away the polish. It’s more Bischoff than idealized comic book. The linework is fast, rough, and assertive—like something you’d scrawl in the margins of a notebook if you didn’t care who saw. The pastel highlights give it a graphic, almost chalky light that brings volume to the musculature without hiding the surface.

This drawing isn’t just sexy—it’s about claiming space. It challenges authority, even while echoing it. It asks who gets to look powerful, and how that power is coded, shared, or rejected.

https://www.kenneymencher.com/

Wednesday

Les Fauves

 


Les Fauves were a group of painters working in France in the early 1900s. The name means “the wild beasts” in French. A critic first used it in 1905 because their work looked so different from traditional painting. These artists used bright, unnatural colors and simple shapes. They didn’t try to make their subjects look realistic. Instead, they used bold outlines and large brushstrokes.

Henri Matisse was one of the most well-known members of the group and this section will focus on him. Other artists included André Derain and Maurice de Vlaminck. They often painted people, landscapes, or still lifes, but they used colors that didn’t match what you’d see in real life. For example, a tree might be painted blue, or a face might be green.

Many art historians say that Fauve painters like Matisse created scenes that showed joie de vivre, which means “joy of living.” But their main focus was actually on formal elements, especially color, pattern, and sometimes the texture or quality of the paint.

The Fauves first showed their work together in 1905 at the Salon d’Automne, an art show in Paris that featured new styles. Their section surprised and even upset many visitors because it looked so unusual. The group didn’t stay together for long. By around 1910, most of the artists had moved on to other styles.

Henri Matisse painted The Green Stripe in 1905, during a short but active period when he and a few other painters were experimenting with a new style that later got called Fauvism. The name came from a critic who described their work as looking like it was made by les fauves, or “wild beasts.” This painting was done in Paris, where Matisse was living at the time. The subject is his wife, Amélie, and the painting was probably made in their apartment studio.



Henri Matisse’s The Green Stripe (also known as Portrait of Madame Matisse) is currently housed at the Statens Museum for Kunst in Copenhagen, Denmark. That’s the national gallery of Denmark, and it holds a large collection of European art, including important modernist works.

The painting ended up there because it was purchased by a Danish art collector named Christian Tetzen-Lund, who supported modern artists like Matisse and Picasso early on. He bought the painting directly from Matisse or through his art dealer in the early 1900s. Later, Tetzen-Lund’s collection became part of the museum’s holdings.

So, although Matisse painted it in Paris, it’s been in Denmark for most of the last century. The museum still displays it today as part of its 20th-century European art collection.

 It was first shown publicly in 1906 at the Salon des Indépendants, an exhibit in Paris that allowed artists to show work without being judged by a jury. It got a lot of attention because it didn’t look like portraits people were used to seeing.

This was a time when France was dealing with changes in society, especially in cities. The country had gone through the Dreyfus Affair, a big political scandal that divided the public and raised questions about justice and nationalism. Artists like Matisse weren’t directly painting about that, but the atmosphere made people more open to challenging old rules. At the same time, new trade routes and colonies were bringing in art from places like Africa and Asia, and this influenced how artists saw the world and made pictures.

Matisse didn’t have a lot of money then. He was still trying to get attention for his work, and not everyone liked it. He’d studied law first, then gave it up for art, which his father didn’t support. There’s a story that Matisse painted this portrait quickly, and that Amélie didn’t like how it turned out. But she supported his work and posed for him often anyway.

Henri Matisse’s The Green Stripe was painted using both oil and tempera on canvas. The painting measures about 15.9 by 12.5 inches. That’s not especially large—it’s around the size of a regular sheet of poster board cut in half.

Matisse applied oil paint, which dries slowly and allows for smoother blending, and tempera, which dries quickly and leaves flatter, more matte surfaces. Using both was a way to experiment with texture and drying time. The canvas was stretched and primed, likely with a layer of gesso, which is a standard preparation that helps the paint stick better.

The surface texture of The Green Stripe varies because of the mixed media. Some areas look built up with thick brushstrokes, while others seem flatter. It’s not polished or smooth like some oil portraits from earlier in the 1800s. Instead, you can see the brushwork clearly, and the paint doesn’t always stay inside the lines.

The palette is saturated, with strong hues. The green stripe that runs down the middle of the woman’s face is a medium, secondary green—green being a mix of blue and yellow. There are also areas of primary colors, like blue and red, and some oranges and pinks, which are tertiary hues. The color is non local and doesn’t follow the natural tones of skin, light, or shadow. For example, the shadows on the face are blue and purple, and the cheeks are orange. These colors were not blended smoothly but placed next to each other in blocks or flat shapes.

The style is stylized, a bit abstract and not naturalistic.  The color is unnaturalistic and the proportions are off, for example, the mouth is too far down into the chin. and the symmetry is interrupted by the green stripe. The patterned blouse almost predicts how Matisse will approach and combine color in his later paintings, It is simplified, with repeated shapes to show the fabric pattern, but not drawn in fine detail.

Come and study with me, videos, etexts, and study guides,
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Sunday

Expressionism


This section talks about changes in the 1700s, 1800s, and early 1900s, especially the anxiety that came with modern life. Romantic and Symbolist painters explored some of th

ese ideas through supernatural subjects. Henry Fuseli, a Romantic painter, made a well-known painting where a woman is shown asleep, possibly under the effects of laudanum, a drug made from opium. She’s having what looks like a nightmare, where she feels like she can’t breathe. The painting includes a small creature sitting on her chest and a ghostly figure in the shadows. It’s a literal image of sleep paralysis, a condition where a person is awake but can’t move and often feels pressure on their chest.

In another painting, there’s a woman who appears to be asleep or turning her head, while spirits—possibly her ancestors—look on. The presence of these ghostly figures adds to the feeling that something spiritual or supernatural is happening.

Paul Gauguin, a Post-Impressionist, traveled to Tahiti in the 1890s. He left Europe during a time when many people were turning away from religion and traditional beliefs. Gauguin said he was looking for something more instinctive and spiritual. In some of his Tahitian paintings, figures appear surrounded by symbols of death or are being watched by shadowy figures. The presence of spirits in his work suggests a belief in the supernatural, not necessarily a fear of death, but more a sense of death being nearby. These themes are part of a long tradition in European art known as memento mori, which are reminders of death.

Both artists were working at a time when people were becoming more uneasy with changes in society—especially changes related to science, urban life, and new technology. These feelings show up in their art as isolation, supernatural imagery, and themes of death.

Here’s a quote from Edvard Munch: “For as long as I can remember, I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety, which I have tried to express in my art. Without anxiety and illness, I should have been like a ship without a rudder.” While that’s Munch talking about his own work, the painting we’re looking at is actually by Gustav Klimt. Klimt wasn’t as openly emotional or melancholic as Munch, but his paintings still deal with some of the same ideas—especially the tension between life and death.

In this painting, you can clearly see a division: on one side, there’s a figure with a skull-like face, representing death. On the other side, there’s a group of people—women, children—wrapped in colorful, patterned fabrics, which seem to flow together like a current. Klimt lived in Vienna around the turn of the 20th century, when the city was full of artistic and intellectual energy. Composers like Gustav Mahler were performing there, and the whole place was filled with cultural activity. But alongside all that creativity, Vienna was also experiencing the pressure of modernization—things like railroads, expanding cities, and new inventions were reshaping how people lived. These changes may have influenced Klimt’s paintings, just like they shaped the work of earlier artists like Munch and Fuseli.


In this painting, the idea of memento mori—a reminder of death—comes through in the way the figures are arranged. Death stands to one side, wrapped in a robe covered in small crosses. The way the robe is designed—with sharp angles and hard lines—feels very different from the curved shapes and soft forms in the rest of the painting. The other side is filled with sleeping or resting figures, often embracing, surrounded by flat, decorative patterns that resemble textiles.

At the time, factory-made fabrics were common, and mass production had changed how people dressed and decorated their homes. Klimt includes lots of these patterns in his work. Instead of creating a traditional, realistic space with shading and depth—chiaroscuro—he uses flat shapes and layered designs. The background looks almost like a diagram, with a cartoon-like quality.


The designs in the fabrics also seem to mark gender differences. Round, flowing shapes are often used for women, while the square or angular ones tend to go with men. There’s a lot going on here—ideas about gender, death, maybe religion, too. The figure of death even holds a kind of staff or candlestick, though it’s not totally clear what it is. The crosses on the robe might be linked to religion or ritual.

Klimt was working during a time when photography had already been around for decades. Artists were no longer expected to paint only what the eye could see. He had to find new ways to make his art meaningful. His work often combines themes of love, sex, death, and the passage of time.

One of his most famous paintings, The Kiss, brings these ideas together again. It’s been copied and referenced a lot over the years. In it, he continues exploring how patterns, color, and simplified forms can carry meaning in a world that was quickly changing.

Come and study with me, videos, etexts, and study guides,
https://www.udemy.com/user/kenneymencher/ 

Saturday

Important Stuff to help your community.

 IMPORTANT 
USC law students have started a hotline for people to call when they have an immigration-related court hearing but don't want to show up in person for fear of being arrested/detained by ICE outside the courthouse. The students will help people complete and submit a "Motion to Change Hearing Format," which can allow someone to have a remote/online hearing instead of in-person. 
hotline # is (888) 462-5211
They can help in English or Spanish"