The Illusion of Speed

Brush in Sunlight oil 12 x 9

The subject of speed has come up recently in regard to my painting so I thought I would discuss it here.  I love loose paintings. I love accurate, loose paintings. My goal is to create something with obvious brushwork that is applied thoughtfully and with intention. You may prefer something more detailed with hundreds of hours poured into the surface detailing.  Neither one is better than the other--again, it is a matter of preference.

Richard Schmidt writes in his book Alla Prima," Looseness should describe how a painting looks, not how it is done".  In other words, to create something that has confident control takes training.  It does not mean that the painting was done in a couple of hours. It means that the person who created it has practiced for hundreds and hundreds of hours to produce the illusion of speed. And I am still practicing this! Some paintings are finished quickly--on the days where the paint flows easily.  Most are labored over far longer than they may appear.  The paintings that appear labored are burned.  The paintings that appear to have been made quickly on the first try are framed and hung on the wall.

In the Eye of the Beholder

All that Glitters oil 22 x 28

Painting is subjective.  There are basic concepts that make a piece a good painting. Concepts like composition, color, balance, and rhythm, and drawing.  But after that, the definition becomes blurred.  Perhaps you prefer very detailed renderings of fruit.  Or painterly interiors. Or works that recall the past. Maybe you like the color blue.

What makes a painting "worthy" or "good" has been weighing on my mind lately.  Sometimes I feel like there is a very narrow definition. And the tastes of the general public or the magazine editors are not always a good barometer. Sometimes I imagine Cezanne or Matisse standing before a room of contemporary paintings.  Which would they think were the best?

Fodder for Thought

Antique Wagon Wheel 8 x 6

Once you have started to paint on a regular basis, you will notice that you begin to look at the world around you in a different way. You will notice the color of light.  You will see a combination of shapes instead of a single object. You will ask yourself how to capture a certain moment in time. You will become more attentive.

I have noticed lately that for me, the smallest things are becoming fodder for thought. The small things have great potential for exploration in your paintings. The idea does not have to be grand or expansive. If you are paying attention, a whisper can be louder than a shout.

Put Something of Yourself In

Autumn Collection oil 18 x 14 SOLD

You paint the way you are made. And the viewer, looking at your pictures, is interested because he senses your mind and your emotions at work --Emile Gruppe

One way to improve upon using reference photos in the studio is to put something of yourself in.  Show your viewer how you think--how you see the world. Merely replicating the photograph pixel for pixel doesn't say anything.  Can you change the compostition to tell a story?  Can you change the palette?  Can you capture a shape with one brushstroke?  Can you express in paint why you picked the photograph in the first place? Are you thinking about what you are trying to express or are you blindly copying?  Are you trying to make something whimsical?  Political? Thought-provoking? What makes the painting uniquely yours?

When I look at art, I want to see something of the artist's personality there.  I want to see how the artist thinks--even if I don't entirely understand the message. I am not interested if the painting "looks real".  I want to see an interpretation of the artist's world. So go out there and make something that tells a story about you.

Me and Leonardo

Leonardo da Vinci

I admit that I DESPISE finishing paintings.  I like the first session where the idea is fresh and exciting and I feel hope about the outcome. If I could make every painting alla prima, I would.  But, alas, I can't...

I spent the day going over the unfinished paintings in my studio.  I need to have a body of work completed in the next few months and it is imperative that I finish those that should be finished.  Generally this means that I am adding detail or changing shapes or fixing edges and sometimes I don't get it right and the whole painting goes down the tubes. AND I FEEL LIKE I'VE GOTTEN NOTHING DONE. 

In addition, the unfinished paintings tend to be the ones that I lost interest in half way through, and there is nothing that makes you feel like you should just give it all up for a waitressing job like bad starts. I can spend hours trying to make a bad start work to no avail.  BUT, I did make some progress today and I have a line of FINISHED and partly wet paintings lining my walls. HOORAY!

Leonardo da Vinci rarely finished his work.  I think oftentimes he had moved on to the next thing in his head and lost interest in what he was working on at the time.  But, that's a guess.  I wish I could say I was half as talented or ingenious, but I can't. HOWEVER, I did finish something today.

Intention and The Art of Flexibility



Pond Lyric oil 11 x 14

In painting you never do what you set out to do.  Something else happens.  If it always turns out right you are probably doing something wrong.--Ken Kewley

It is very rare that a painting turns out exactly as I had intended or envisioned from the start.  Elements of painting have a life of their own and what I had pictured putting down somehow turns into something else. Hopefully, with a bit of luck and skill, what does end up on the page is worthy of a frame or teaches me something that I can control better in my next attempt.

 Yesterday I made a painting that, with some distance, has a rather bothersome circular pattern that overtakes the subject. I didn't see it at first and I will have to fix it--not what I had envisioned, but hopefully something that can be resolved and maybe enhanced or even made into the main idea of the painting.

I think the intuitive part of painting allows for more flexibility and less attachment to results.  If a shape doesn't turn out just as I had imagined, I try to let it lead me.  Sometimes it can be exciting and sometimes disastrous or disappointing. (There is always that burn pile)!!!  I find that I need the same flexibility in my teaching.  Class planning can be restrictive when a group exceeds your expectations or when they need more work with a certain topic.

 So as much as I try to produce a painting that comes close to my original vision,  I try to stay open to changes that might come up along the way. There. A lesson in bending.

Inviting People In

Reflection in Sienna and Gold oil 12 x 12

Something jumped out at me as I was reading another artist's blog post today.  They were talking about sharing your secrets--about letting people in as a way to connect with your audience (they used Bob Ross as an example). It resonated with me.  The idea was this: a piece is more personal to a collector if they know more about the whys and wheres and hows of your work. Be an open book. A collector is going to remember you if you were generous with your time and you told them a story or shared your technique. Or you offered them something extra like a personalized inscription on the back of their painting. And you did it with a smile. This may seem elementary, but you would be surprised at how many artists there are who would rather remain mysterious.

Yesterday, I was talking with someone who had purchased a painting by Stephen Quiller.  They visited his studio and he offered that they stay and fish in the river on his property.  Then he offered to deliver their painting to them since they didn't have room in the car with the dog.  They subsequently bought three more paintings and raved about how nice he was even though he had just met them.  Those paintings are going to mean more to them than the painting bought without the personal experience and the story and the generosity of an artist inviting someone in.

Small Victories

Rushing Stream oil 36 x 18

 It is taking me longer to finish paintings these days which may sound like a bad thing, but I actually look at it as a small victory.  It means I am able to push past where I used to. I have a new set of skills. I used to be afraid of working past a certain point with my work--afraid that I would "ruin" the piece by messing with it some more.  Now, I am able to look at what I have done and I can spend another session on the work without muddying it. I can improve on it without losing the original start and the fresh feel. As I gain more experience, there are no longer big leaps, but these small victories which show growth and that is always a good thing!