Oil Painting

I believe Richard Schmid said that most problems with paintings are due to drawing.  Most of us start out drawing but often, as we begin painting, we don’t circle back to drawing much.

I was fortunate to study drawing principles, such as perspective and anatomy, in art school in the ’80s in Detroit, Michigan.  However once I began painting a lot, I did not draw much and even began to feel that drawing was becoming a weakness I could mask with the occasional lucky shape, splashy brushwork and such. 

Fortunately, I was asked to do a series of charcoal portraits around 2007, and since then have done about a thousand of them! These have helped me to regain some confidence in drawing. They are usually done from my own photos, which I set up as though the person is sitting near.

This brings me back to Richard Schmid’s point. I think what he meant is that very often what is required to “bring a painting home” is accurate drawing, along with excellent values, color, brushwork, etc. 

It is confidence in drawing which helps to capture details that can really help elevate a painting. Richard Schmid was very accurate in his “drawing” of things like leaves or other details in his work, even if they were supporting characters in the overall composition.

To be clear, to me drawing is getting accurate shapes in my work. I’m not interested in minute detail of rendering every eyelash or thread or leaf or whatever.  I try to continue improving shapes throughout the drawing or painting process. I don’t “get a perfect drawing” and then fill in between the lines.

As you can see in the comparison of the block in photos and the final paintings below, it is drawing that helps to “bring home” the finished paintings; placing the shapes of the head and background, features, highlights and such correctly. This makes for a decent result at our three hour, Wednesday Night Head Study group. (We’ve been getting friends and neighbors to sit for us most Wednesdays since 2013!)

If you’re feeling like you’ve lost touch with drawing skills, or would like to improve them, you might consider joining or starting a drawing class, drawing some still life subjects, or drawing your own face in the mirror. 

It may be necessary to revisit basic perspective or anatomy to understand our subjects, so that we can render them with confidence. For the figure, I like Andrew Loomis’ Figure Drawing For All It’s Worth, and there’s no shortage of information out there about basic one, two and three point perspective so that we understand things like eye level, vanishing points, ellipses etc.

I believe Norman Rockwell said his ability to draw was a little gift that he always had in his pocket that enabled him to pursue all of his ideas. It’s good to think of strong drawing skills as we draw or paint as our friend and ally, and not a weakness that we can somehow avoid for the rest of our days.

Among the many artists’ organizations in this country, I feel that the Oil Painters of America is unique in the sheer number of events, programs and services that it provides its members.  I am making this observation after having a discussion with a member about OPA’s unique operating strategy compared to other art groups.  This member mentioned recent research comparing many of the leading artists’ organizations in the country according to their “operating efficiency”. Drawing on publicly available 501(c)3 filings, the research showed how these organizations compare based on the amount of earnings generated per member, and the percentage of stockpiled cash reserve. I was pleased and not surprised to find that the Oil Painters of America was ranked lower than most of the other organizations for cash reserve.

While it is good to have a reserve in place to help an organization through financial fluctuations, it is hardly the purpose of a non-profit to generate income and stockpile cash.

Our goal as an organization is to serve our membership well, using our funds to create the maximum benefits that we can afford, while being financially responsible and keeping moderate reserves.

We perpetually look for ways to add value to our OPA “family” and to serve our membership. Spending on OPA member benefits is a valuable investment. We spend our funds on education through Lunch and Learns, student awards, our newsletter and blog, as well as educational sessions and demos at our many exhibitions. We spend our funds on shows that promote our artists online and at physical shows. Our funds are there to serve our members.

While it is important to keep “rainy day” reserve dollars, what’s even more important is using all
that we can to help our artists succeed and, as per our mission; “advance the cause of traditional, representational fine art by drawing attention to the lasting value of fine drawing, color, composition and the appreciation of light”.

I was particularly gratified to have these reflections supported by a letter that was passed on to me. It was written by one of our members, Micaiah Hardison, who suggested that other arts organizations could learn from the example of the OPA.

I close by sharing his observations…

Susan Abma
OPA President

“OPA is like a working parent, providing opportunities and resources for the family. Income is used to the benefit of the family, which keeps it alive and thriving.  The children are healthy and able to learn to support themselves and others. The more they receive the more they offer and give.

OPA is accelerating artists’ careers and providing opportunities for them to show and sell their work in galleries and offering prize money. They have about a dozen shows and competitions every year, along with an annual convention, workshops, paint-outs, etc. The advancement and success of its members’ skills and careers is its top priority. This is the value, motivation and validation most artists are looking for.” 
— Micaiah Hardison

To view a video on Hardison and his visit to the 2024 OPA National Exhibition and Convention
go to: https://youtu.be/89aths7DwNo?si=w7vUB2697ECLHgJv

Some things don’t change, such as painting backgrounds and backdrops.  With that in mind we are re-presenting a blog written by one of our Master Signature artists, William Schneider.

I have received a number of questions about painting “backgrounds” specifically for portraits. Too many students spend their time rendering the subject and then try to paint the background at the last moment. The result is often a disaster; the figure looks pasted on or there is a formless envelope around the head. The problem is that the background is an afterthought rather than an integral part of the painting. 

Don’t forget, someone looking at the painting sees the whole…not just the subject. In reality, the background is vitally important because it defines the center of interest. My pastel mentor, Harley Brown OPAM, told me “always work the background at the same time as the subject”. The key is to give some thought to what you’re doing and why. Here’s a great quote from Quang Ho OPAM: “If you make a decision, it’s always right!” Think about it! 

I think of three elements and three approaches when I make decisions about the background: 

Elements:

1. Value – is the background darker (like a typical Rembrandt portrait), lighter  (like a more contemporary graphic piece) or the same value (used by some artists to lose the edges on the light side of the face).
   
   
2. Hue – A background that is the complement of the dominant color of your subject (either grayed or high-Chroma) automatically defines the subject as the center of interest. Furthermore, if you place equal amounts of the discords (two steps on either side of the subject’s hue on the Munsell color wheel) near the subject you reinforce the effect.
   
   
3. Shape – Rather than have a flat tone around the portrait (boring) you can create secondary points of interest…the three approaches listed below. 

Approaches:

1. A specific scene or environment. Sargent did this in almost every portrait. He used columns, chairs and vases as secondary points of interest to create a mood.
   
   
2. A suggested environment. Abstract shapes still place the subject somewhere other than empty space. 
   
   
3. A vignette– although the picture plane is not completely filled, the shapes that are there fulfill a design purpose. (I was taught that it’s a good idea to have a vignette touch three sides of the picture plane. I often design the “background” to have a movement that opposes the thrust of the figure.)

Here are some examples of all three approaches. By the way, I cover this (plus a lot more) in my workshops and DVD on Design / Composition Secrets of the Masters. 

Did you know that OPA has been sharing artists’ blog posts for over ten years?  We have an extensive collection available to the public on our website. OPA will be taking Deep Dives into our archives and sharing our favorite posts from years past. Please enjoy this Deep Dive by Bill Suys OPAM from 2020.

As the world seems to spin out of control outside of our studios, this may be a good time to revisit the ONE thing that truly enables you to stay engaged as a life-long artist: satisfaction from, and a love for, the PROCESS.

Wanting to become a ‘great’ artist is the norm for someone new to art, but with experience, what compels you to STAY an Artist? I have been an artist at my core since I was a little kid, spread out on the living room floor sketching on scrap paper, and with the global turmoil and its likely sobering effect on the Art Market, this is a good time to refocus on the one thing that will help you stay on track.

I’ll start with an excerpt from an early oil, “Self-Thoughtrait,” where I incorporated an essay of my thoughts on ‘Art’. Though written about 20 years ago, it still offers a glimpse into what excites me: 

“The blank canvas offers absolute creative freedom. Within its two-dimensional surface, it provides the same opportunity afforded past artists, from Leonardo to Picasso, Memling to Warhol, and beyond.  Each new surface sparkles with wonderful opportunity and incredible challenge.  

Today, alone in my studio, I choose to reflect upon this opportunity.

My dual relationship with each canvas begins with an emotional and physical exploration…the current culmination of my thoughts, feelings, experience, practice, and desire. I’m free to create an intimate painting of quiet beauty, or a bold and involved expression of spirit and persuasion.  The quality and depth of this personal and passionate process is infinitely variable, and I derive satisfaction and–when lucky–intense joy through the creative dance and budding conversation that takes place between canvas, paint, brush and artist. 

Once complete, the piece becomes an individual, left to stand alone…and the second half of the artistic process requires a viewer to complete the connection.”

Too often, we correlate the ‘success’ of our work with the ‘second half’, where others are in control, and though there is usually plenty of healthy feedback, we also find silly ways to be disappointed. Let me share a recent experience where the ‘process’ was joyful and rewarding, while the ‘sharing’ could have been just another source of discouragement:

A couple of years ago, upon our arrival for an extended stay in Santa Fe, my wife and I came upon a beautiful concert being held in the City’s famous plaza. The atmosphere and the music were fabulous, and watching the performance over the crowd left an impression powerful enough that I knew I would explore it in a painting. 

About a year later, with the memory still strong in my soul, I created a portrait of that evening. I placed the canvas on my easel above eye level to recreate that sense of looking over the crowd and as I painted I could feel the atmosphere, hear the music, and alone in my studio I was able to sense and celebrate that wonderful experience. 

Once the painting was complete, I felt it had lasting strength, so I decided to enter it into an important National show. To my delight, it was accepted and I shipped it off, knowing I would happen to be in the city where the show was taking place and I’d be able to attend the opening.

On the night of the opening, I entered the beautiful venue and as is often the case, the show was hung salon-style in order to exhibit as many pieces as possible on the available wall space. When I finally spotted my piece, I saw it was hung at knee level, which in the case of this particular painting was devastating to me…lost was that above-the-crowd ethereal atmosphere. If the connection and impact were lost for me, I knew the judge would never sense it and potential buyers would drift past. I immediately understood this painting would languish and it was destined to come home. 

Thankfully, the disappointment was short-lived because I still treasured the experience of my personal artistic process. My time in the studio with this piece still fed my soul, and I knew I would have more opportunities to grow and create.

With the impact of our current pandemic on the economy, and knowing the importance of the health of the stock market on the people who are able to purchase art, there will likely be a slowdown in sales (and more mac & cheese) over the next months and years. Rather than allowing this to lead to disappointment, lean into the importance of the Artistic Process and let IT feed your soul. Get in to the studio and get back to the creative dance and conversation that take place between canvas, paint, brush and artist. Your artistic life will be better for it.

For a bit more insight into the creative process, take a look at my earlier blog post, where I talk about the “two keys“ to progressing as an artist. 

You can follow my work on Instagram @billsuys.
My best to you as we walk this path together — yet socially distanced!

Why do we paint? Is it a calling, a way to make a living? Is being an artist glamorous? Do we paint because it is like an addiction, we have no choice, it is a need, a love? For me it is a calling. I was exposed to painting and drawing by my older brothers. In their spare time they drew and painted, they had no formal training they just loved doing it. 

My journey was not directly in the arts. I worked as a cabinet maker, insurance agent, shoe salesman and eventually worked in the art department of a department store. Years later I would freelance for two major department stores in Los Angeles. I did that for ten years and as fate would have it the market for freelance illustration died overnight.  I always wanted to paint and the decision was made for me. From that day on I painted. I was fortunate to do what I had dreamed of. The journey has been a wonderful experience. 

Mother Nature has been my inspiration and mentor. When I first began painting I would go out every day and produce 5 or 6 small pieces, usually 6”x8” in size. Learning to see was and is my goal. The process of seeing is the same on a 6”x8” as a 16”x20”, the difference is one can cover a 6”x8” quicker. Learning to see takes time, it is a response to what is in front of us. At first I would want to include all that I saw. I would look at a scene and miss the concept of what I saw, I was too anxious to start and did not look at what was in front of me. In time I learned to listen to what nature tried to tell me. “Slow down and don’t just look at me without much thought. Paint not what you see but what you feel is in front of you”. I would see a certain light effect nature presented and paint it. The color looked right but did not feel right. At this point I would alter it until it felt right. If we merely copy what is in front of us we are not doing Mother Nature justice. Feel the color, the atmosphere, listen to what she tells you. If everything is painted well but is lacking feeling it will never be a true representation of nature. I have walked into many galleries and from a distance immediately attracted to a painting only to be disappointed when I come close to it. It had no soul. On the other hand I would see a painting I did not notice the first time around. The painting did not scream “look at me” it was a subtle poetic work of art.  

Often I paint with other artists and find myself settling on a scene someone else is excited about. As I paint I find myself going through the motion and eventually scraping what I painted. Why? Because it was not what I saw but what someone else saw. Paint what inspires you. Paint for yourself not for anyone else. We are influenced by our teacher. We see other artists whose work we like and are influenced by his or her work. This is only natural, we paint and grow and eventually we find our own handwriting and our own way of seeing. Our own statement. If we paint like our mentor or anyone else we admire we are only looking through their eyes, not ours. We will only be an imitation of someone else.  We should aspire to be as great (not copy) as Sargent, Sorolla, Monet, etc. Set your goal high. Keep growing as an artist and don’t settle.

Painting never becomes easier. Each painting is a new beginning and there is no formula. I paint and rely on my instincts. I begin with an idea but will make changes at anytime during the process, beginning or close to completion or even after completion. The goal is to create work that has merit. I paint outdoors and when I bring the painted panel into the studio to see what I have accomplished the first question is: did I do it justice? Did I capture the light, the atmosphere and does it have merit? The big question is: did I paint with feeling? The colors can be accurate but do they feel right? I rely on the feeling I walk away with much more than what is actually in front of me. Art is an emotional response to what we see but mostly what the artist feels. After all is said and done the feeling I bring in the painting is my goal.

I am attracted by the afternoon light. I may set out in the afternoon (earlier than I should) and drive around searching for a location only to find myself back where I began, by this time the light changed and the location is now subtle and harmonious. Sunsets as well are more subtle and quiet to my eyes. The last light is not easy to capture as it changes quickly. The “Golden Hour” as some describe it is just that. Everything is bathed in a warm glow. The greens have more orange, the mountains more red etc. The danger is it can be garish when painted, I personally find the last light more subtle, more harmonious, it speaks and does not scream. I have always thought of nature as gentle, yes it does have its harsh moments, but I fell in love with her gentleness.