At one of my always stimulating dinners with my late friend Zyg Jankowski, he said to me that the first decision a painter has to make about his work is a spacial one: how “deep” do you want to make the picture? John Carlson felt that every foot into nature counted; Ed Whiney had no interest in such realistic depth and recommended a student plan the composition on-site but walk around a corner to paint it. Over the years, I’ve been schizophrenic about the question. Under Emile Gruppe’s tutelage, I naturally followed Carlson’s path. Later, I experimented with a flatter approach , one which, carried to an extreme, can make the subject disappear in a series of flat planes.
I rather enjoyed the broken, lively look of such surfaces. but felt that, after awhile, my pictures all began to look alike. They lacked mood. Now moderns like Hans Hoffmann despised the idea of mood; in fact, he called it a “swindle”– an easy way to make a pictorial statement at the cost of the more important and thoughtful thing: composition. My flat pictures, on the other hand, were all composition. I wandered back to a more “realistic” approach under the influence of artists like Sargent–who has undergone a publishing boom in the last twenty years–Sorolla, and the slew of recently discovered Russians.
I also encountered a Timkov at the old Fleisher Museum which astonished me, since it had both mood and a selective flatness in its approach. Indeed, all the artists I’ve mentioned knew when to go flat and when to add modeling. Gruppe, for example, would make fun of still-lifes whose pots and bottles were so roundly-modeled that you got “dizzy” looking at them. I also had an important lesson from him early in my career. I’d done a rocky hillside with trees against the sky and bushes in the foreground. He came along with a big brush, eliminated a distracting silhouette by pushing the trees out of the top of the frame and mushed the foreground bushes into insignificance. He then drew a few dark lines in the rocks, emphasizing their structure.
Done! That night, I jotted down his criticism: “In full light, you saw only the masses–as the sun went down, you saw the details and put them all in.” Of course, it took a while for this lesson to sink in! Sargent’s famous Lake Louise painting consists of similar flat smudges, and huge, dark-and-light compositional planes, all set off by a minimum of modeling in the foreground water. Such magic is possible when you give up any attempt to copy a subject photographically and instead focus on the large, simple masses that give the scene its visual interest . Once these planes are defined, very little modeling is need to bring “realism” to the subject. That’s why I don’t feel that the time I spent on my “flat period” was wasted: on the contrary, it made me even more aware of the importance of simple planes. It taught me how to summarize what I saw, how to make a precis of it–after which, I could put in as much “detail” as I wanted. In short, by adding very little, I could see how much I could get away. When entering a museum, I’m always anxious to see how this sort of slight-of-hand is practiced by the Masters. Not their manual skill, you understand; not, for example, how well they’ve painted the wings of a fly on a flower. But rather, how they’ve summarized that flower, reduced it to a few basic planes — and then brought it all to life by an edge or two and a few subtle shifts in value.
Note: for a further discussion of these points, check out YouTube:
Archives for May 2012
My Method and Attitude Toward Art
It has been said that art is subjective to the viewer. I certainly agree with that statement. I can look at a work of art and be astounded by the way it speaks to me. Someone else may just glance at the same piece of work and not be affected at all. I have decided to not worry about what others think of my work or the subject matter I choose to paint, but paint only to please myself.
I was once with a publishing company in New York. As with most illustrative work, I was told what to paint. I didn’t enjoy that part of my career. I finally gave it up.
I love painting landscapes, still life, and portraits. I usually have several paintings going at one time so I can go from one painting that’s too wet to continue, then pick up another painting that’s dry and continue painting on it. The second painting may be an entirely different subject matter so I’m always doing something different. Working this way helps keep me in a fresh state of mind.
I have my own studio apart from the house and am found there almost every day. I get such a sense of peace when surrounded by my art materials, my books and the smell of oil paint. If I’m not in a mood to paint, I get in the mood when I open the door. The outside world disappears. The light comes through the windows and doors and creates a warm glow on the knotty pine floor and I’m in my world. I have a CD player that keeps me company with Audio books checked out from the local libraries. My two faithful companions, Buddy-the Pomeranian mix, and Daisy-the Besinju, are always outside the door keeping watch.
My method of painting is done in layers. I start with a rough mono-chromatic under painting, keeping the paint thin and loose by adding turpentine to the paint. Being thin, it dries fast. I can then start adding thin layers of color. (I’m not a fast painter.) I am constantly correcting the painting as it progresses so I keep the paint thin until I get close to finishing it. I can then add thicker paint as needed.
I sometimes feel like I’m doing the opposite of sculpting. There’s the front, the sides and back of each object or person represented, but instead of chipping away or building with clay, I’m building the objects with paint.
In addition to painting as often as I can, I teach an all day Oil Painting Class once a month. Teaching is a great learning tool for me. I have to keep my skills honed in order to convey technique and theory to my students.
Life sometimes interrupts my painting time, but I don’t resent it. I love my family and friends and being constantly secluded in my studio would not be healthy for me and my spirit would suffer. Life first, art second.
Upcoming Events
The OPA Blog is taking a brief break from it’s normal schedule of thought provoking articles from our gifted Guest Bloggers to bring you an update on the exciting upcoming events and deadlines you won’t want to miss!
2012 National Juried Exhibition
We encourage you to join us during the opening weekend festivities of this year’s 21st National Juried Exhibition in beautiful Evergreen, Colorado, June 20 – June 24, 2012, including an opportunity to paint and sell your work! OPA members who take part in one or both of the plein air painting events will be eligible to participate in a tent sale taking place June 23 & June 24, right outside Evergreen Fine Art Gallery. Click here for a complete list of all events and more information regarding this year’s tent sale.
2012 Spring OPA Online Showcase
Calling all Associate members! The first of 3 Associate On-line Showcase’s this year is in full swing. Your last opportunity to enter and be eligible for a total of $5,000 in prize money is Tuesday, May 15, 2012. Click here to register now!
2012 Eastern Regional Exhibition
This year’s Eastern Regional Exhibition will be held at the impressive Bennington Center for the Arts, in Bennington, Vermont. The Juror of Awards will be Kenn Backhaus OPAM. The deadline for entering on-line is July 6. Maximum canvas size: 1200 sq. inches.
2012 Western Regional Exhibition
This year’s Western Regional Exhibition will be held at the trendy Gallery 1261, owned by OPA Master Signature artist Quang Ho. The Juror of Awards will be Jeff Legg OPAM. The deadline for entering on-line is July 13. Maximum canvas size: 1200 sq. inches.
Deadlines
Signature Membership Deadline
October 15, 2012 – Application deadline to apply for Signature membership
Master Signature Membership Deadline
September 1, 2012 – Application deadline to apply for Master Signature membership.
Shirl Smithson Scholarship Deadline
December 1, 2012 – Application deadline to be selected to receive one of four Shirl Smithson Scholarships. No charge to apply and open to all Associate members.
Next Week on the OPA Blog
Patsy Ledbetter OPA will be sharing about her approach toward art. Here is a brief preview:
It has been said that art is subjective to the viewer. I certainly agree with that statement. I can look at a work of art and be astounded by the way it speaks to me. Someone else may just glance at the same piece of work and not be affected at all. I have decided to not worry about what others think of my work or the subject matter I choose to paint, but paint only to please myself…
Preserving My Dreams
Ola! What a great idea, and how much I enjoy and grow and am empowered by reading the thoughts, musings, and experiences of these real and great painters.
Reading Alan Wolton’s post (once I drove from Nashville to an obscure barn way outside of Chicago to see this extraordinary collection of his water lilies)what a great blessing to see inside his mind a little about layering in those transparent washes, and then to preserve them – discipline. This struck a chord in me (finally?).
About the same time I was going through Architectural Digest – and there was this painting on a bedroom wall (Brooke Shields) of a woman’s head study, all in black, and white, basically a beautiful value study. She wasn’t framed, looked half finished and is exquisite.
I had the privilege last January of going to the Prado and Sorolla’s home. Go, hitch hike if you have to. What struck me about Sorolla’s things was; First. The great, unfinished, quality of his work. It looked like over and over, unless it was a formal portrait, that he would get about 2/3’s done and go onto the next one. Good enough. Next. Also, he has hundreds of those tiny paintings, 5 x 7 or smaller done with 7 or 12 thick brush strokes. Next…Nothing was too precious. He stayed inspired. He painted gorgeous fruit garlands and portraits of his daughters “on the walls” for himself. He painted for joy. Please, Dear Lord, let this be my process shifting. Anyhow, this was where I was when I began “Music Man”. Ah, to be as Sorolla, and still be on that great plane of hope, magic, inspiration, the great challenge to capture something so elusive – when I finish a painting as when I began.
I think that the key for me, the only hope is in being present, moment by moment, choice by choice, focus, discipline. To decide truthfully as I see it. What is my darkest dark, my lightest light, and focus; remain focused on the goal of preserving that value scale.
“A man is what he thinks about all day long.” – Emerson
Frank Loyd Wright has inscribed on the beams of his studio, “What a man does, he has”.
“For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he”. – Proverbs 23:7
What I’m thinking about when I’m painting is what I’m going to create.
This discipline, sustained focus for me, is the key to producing not only work I love but a life I want to live.
I’ve worked out with a trainer (I must be forced) for most of the last 7 years. I want to be strong, but mainly I go for the discipline. I know that if while doing the plank, or attempting push-ups, if I ALLOW myself the luxury of a negative thought I will drop. My strength truly drops 30% because of what I’m thinking. So, whether it’s dieting, exercising, being kind to our mates and small animals, not eating that bowl of cereal at 11p.m, or holding onto that brilliant, childlike elusive transparent under-painting…
I’ve got to stay focused and hold onto the reality of what I think about, I bring about.