How To Paint Water in Oils – Part 1

February 23, 2010

A View of Grand Canal Venice - Antoine Bouvard (1915-1959) French

A View of Grand Canal Venice - Antoine Bouvard (1870-1955) French

There is a lot of conflicting information about Antoine Bouvard out there.  Seems his birth, if not his life and work are mixed up with his father’s.   Probably the most reliable biographical information I found is that Antoine Bouvard (1870-1955) was the son of Antoine J. Bouvard (1840-1920).  The senior Bouvard trained at Beaux-Arts in Paris under Constant DeFeux.  He was Architectural Director for the Sienne as well as a flourishing artist.

His father’s pupil, Bouvard accompanied him on trips to Itlay where they both painted the exquisite vistas of the Venetian backwater.  Their paintings are remarkably similar.

This is a great place to start a discussion of depicting water in oil paint. The Bouvard  illustrates the inherent mirror like quality of water, especially calm water.   Obviously the reflective quality of water has a lot to do with the colors and values we will use when painting a given body of water.  Calm water reflects objects clearly and distinctly while water in motion, especially extreme motion (stormy waves on the ocean) reflects them less so.  The sky over head as well as trees, buildings and boats, etc. influence the colors and values we see in water.  But reflections are not the only influence on the colors we see when observing water.

(Please note that I said, “….colors and values we SEE when OBSERVING water.  I am not talking about formulas here but learning to understand and judge what we SEE.  There is no substitute for the experience of working from nature itself.)

There are two other major factors which have influence on the colors and values which we see in water.  There is the color of the water itself.  We often think of water as transparent and colorless because that’s the way it looks when it comes out our kitchen faucet.  That’s not usually the case in nature.  In most river, lakes, streams, bays and oceans the water has some amount of turbidity.  Turbidity refers to particulate matter floating in the water column.  For instant a lot rivers have silt in them.  The Mississippi River is  called The Big Muddy.  It looks muddy brown because of the silt floating in it’s water column.  Here in west central Florida the Gulf of Mexico often seems a milky green gray or greenish tan.  That’s because the local sand bottom is fine grained and a relatively light tan, almost white in color.  When wind and waves have the water in motion their is a fair amount of this particulate floating in the water column.  In places like the Florida Keys where the water seems clear and blue that’s because there is less turbidity.  On Florida’s east coast the ocean waters often seem turquoise blue.  That’s because of the close proximity of the Gulf Stream.   Those blue waters contain very little particulate and allow light to penetrate rather than diffusing it as in turbid waters.  What we see here in Florida may differ from where your local circumstances.  Observation is the key to understanding.

The other major influence on the colors and values we see in water is underneath the water.  The bottom.  For instance, one of my favorite places to paint, the mangrove shores of Fort Desoto State Park in Pinellas County, Florida is an estuarine environment consisting of shallow (fisherman call it skinny) water.  Beneath this water lies a dark reddish muck built up of years of decaying plant and other organic matter.  This dark red muck influences the water’s color, especially in the shallowest parts.  Bottom color is especially evident when looking down at the water.   In terms of paint that means the influence of bottom colors are most often present in foreground waters.

bouvard2Back to the Bouvards.  Having observed several of their works in person I think they solved the problems of painting relatively still water this way:  They washed in a midtone, usually a greenish blue gray,thinly, grading it from darker to lighter, foreground to background.  I think they allowed this to dry and then painted their reflections and ripples on top of it using wavy vertical strokes of color, some lighter and some darker than the midtone wash.  The effects were dramatic.

I will take up here next time as this promises to be a thread covering several posts.  Now get out there and paint something!

Valentine’s Day, William Bouguereau, and Stobart Retrospective

February 13, 2010

L'Amoure et Psyche, Enfants by William Bouguereau

L'Amoure et Psyche, Enfants by William Bouguereau

In honor of St. Valentine’ s Day this is William Bouguereau’s depiction of Cupid and Psyche.  The mythical story of Cupid and Psyche first appeared in Lucius Apuleius’ The Golden Ass in the 2nd century A.D.  Enraged by jealousy, the goddess Venus, orders her son Cupid to make the princess Psyche fall in love with a monster.  Instead, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.  After several celestial trials, Cupid convinces the gods to turn Psyche into an immortal so they can be married in the heavens.  By depicting the lovers as infants Bouguereau seems to highlight the innocence, trust and companionship of true love which transcends physical attraction.  Truly the stuff we celebrate on St. Valentine’s Day.

Pope Gelasius I officially declared Feb. 14th as the Feast of St. Valentine.  This was in keeping with early Church practice of recasting pagan feast days.  Here Pope Gelasius was recasting the Roman fertility festival, Lupercalia.  There are three Catholic saints named Valentine, all three were martyrs and all three lived and died prior to the Pope’s declaration.  So, it is not clear which saint the feast is actually named after.  Scholars believe the saint of the holiday was a priest in Rome who fell into disfavor with Emperor Claudius II in about 270 A.D.  Legend has it that Cladius prohibited marriage for young men claiming that bachelors made better soldiers.  Fr. Valentine, who continued to perform marriage ceremonies in secret, was arrested and put to death.  The feast day remained on the Catholic liturgical calendar until 1969 when the Church began removing feast days of saints whose historical origins are unclear.

I am basically off the hook on St. Valentine’s Day largely because my sweetheart and I celebrate our wedding anniversary on Feb. 7th.   That date is significant because the year we were married in Tampa, Fl Feb. 7th was Gasparilla Day.  Gasparilla Day is Tampa’s version of marde gras.  It celebrates the day when the pirate Jose Gaspar (who may or may not be a myth himself) invaded the city raping and pillaging.  An odd thing to celebrate, I know, but they do it with a parade and bead throwing, the whole nine yards.  My wife and I rode through parade traffic in a limo from church to reception hall.  We stood up through the sunroof of the limo and people tossed beads to us….ironically Penny caught one gaudy set of red beads in the shape of hearts.  Great memories!

This year we celebrated our anniversary by spending a couple of days in Palm Beach, Fl.  We chose Palm Beach because we wanted to see a retrospective on the work of painter John Stobart at the Society of the Four Arts.  That show was fantastic.  Stobart is a master of historical maritime paintings.  If at all possible you should make the trip, see the exhibit before it leaves on Feb. 28th.  If you do go, here is something to look for.   Stobart, who at the age of 80 is doing arguably his best work, hides a little wine bottle in each painting.  It was fun playing “find the bottle” as I got everyone in the gallery including the security guard involved.

An added benefit to the weekend was that the American International Fine Arts Fair was at the convention center in West Palm.  We enjoyed browsing  galleries from all over the world.  We saw numerous paintings by a favorite , Daniel Ridgway Knight.  We learned that Monet had a step daughter, Blanche Monet, who became his daughter-in-law, studied under his tutelage and copied his style.  We watched a man debating whether to purchase an original Claude Monet based on if it was the right size.  He even had the gallery attendant measure it.  We saw a Bougoureau that was so grotesquely ill proportioned that I blurted out, in front of the gallery owner, “No way that’s a real Bouguereau.”  He looked at me sideways to say the least.  We also developed an appreciation for artists whose work we had not seen before:   Antoine Bouvard, Dorthea Sharp, Edward Seago and Sir Alfred Munnings.

Oh, and while we were over there we ate at one of our favorite reastaurants, Cabana Noevo Latino.  I highly reccomend this small chain out of NYC for it’s gourmet cuban style food, reasonable prices, eclectically austere atmosphere and wonderful cleanliness.

Composition in a Plein Air Painting

February 3, 2010

The Meagen Garrett by Robert J. Simone 8 x 10, oil-linen

The Meagen Garrett by Robert J. Simone 8 x 10, oil-linen

This small plein air painting was posted in a previous blog.  I keep it in my studio because I enjoy it’s company.  It was painted during the Crescent Beach event in October 2009.  There’s a funny story that goes with it…Upon arriving in the area I set course for the city of St. Augustine in search of marine subjects.   The boatyards and marinas along Riberia St. are where sailing, yachting and commercial vessels moor.  I found an old shrimp boat which presented a nice view of her port bow (that’s the left front).   “Late in the day she’ll be mostly back lit”, I thought.  “Clouds should build up by then, too.”   I asked the dock master about her.  “That ol’ thing?”, he said with certainty.  “Never goes anywhere.  She’s been there for months!”  Receiving permission to paint, I checked the time and figured to come back in couple of hours.  Return I did.  The scene was unfolding!  Beautiful clouds floated over the waterway!   The sun moved southwest and low in the sky!  I was just in time to wave goodbye to my shrimp boat as she motored away.   Gone fishin’, as they say.  Heart sunken I came about and noticed this beautiful tug who offered her stout stern, flowing gunwale and aft cabin door.  How could I resist.

Let’s revisit the thread we started on composition.  There was a post on armatures, one on main line and a third on centralizing interest.  How does this tugboat painting make use of those concepts?

The abstract design construct or armature is called a “grouping”.  It’s simple concept that is often used in still life paintings.   It doesn’t require too much imagination to see this as a sort of “boat still life”, does it?   Edgar Payne illustrated the concept in his book Composition for Outdoor Painters.

The main line, or path which the eye follows, is fairly simple, too.  It’s designed such that the eye enters at the bottom left, follows the arc of the tug’s reflection to the vertical pilings and then aided by the curve of the gunwale and angle of the clouds, it loops from pilings, to birds, to tug, back to pilings and eventually, up and out of the top of the picture.

main line

main line

What about the four means of centralizing interest?

  • keep your most interesting shapes near the center of your design.
  • keep your greatest value contrast near the center of your design.
  • keep your most vital and saturated color harmonies near the center of your design.
  • keep your sharpest edges near the center of your design.

All of the most interesting shapes are on the tug.  Of course that didn’t require any genius.  Those were all handovers.  I did, however, simplify all of the other shapes.  Most of those were reduced to their basic geometry.  A lot of stuff was edited out, too, like bow rails on the sailboat and numerous trees in the distance.

The greatest contrast is with the tug, too.  The darkest darks and lightest lights are there.  Now, you could say, “Wait a minute the light on that sailboat is pretty light.  So is the light on that boat to the left.”  That’s true but neither of those boats have any darks like the hull of the tug.  So the greatest contrast is with the tug.

The most vital and saturated color harmonies are on and around the tug, too.  It’s safe to say that the overall coloration is very neutral.  The only colors that could be called saturated, and remotely so,  are the green trim on the cabin and stack, the red orange of the life ring, the dark blue of the hull and the blue spot of sky above the tug.  The overall color harmony of blues and greens with a touch of red orange (blue’s complement) is present on the tug and repeated in the neutral background material.

Lastly, all of the sharpest edges are with tug.   Where hull meets water.  Where hull meets the boat on the right.  Where the cabin meets the sky.

These design elements along with its dominant size leave no doubt that the tugboat is the center of interest in this painting.

Time for a commercial:  There are spaces available in April’s  Cortona, Italy workshop.  Don’t delay…

Values in Plein Air Painting

January 27, 2010

The Warrior by Robert J. Simone

The Warrior by Robert J. Simone

This is a pencil sketch of a tug I’d like to paint.  Although her scars are not evident in the sketch she is aptly named The Warrior and is docked at Bayboro Harbor in St. Petersburg, Fl.  I post it because I received a question about values in the comments section of the previous post. Values, of course, refers to how light or dark masses are relative to a gray scale.  Specifically the question was, “How does Scott Christensen determine values when he paints outside?”.  Because I wrote a blog about my experiences studying with Scott in Idaho (the article appears on his workshop site) I have become somewhat of an unofficial spokesperson for him; periodically answering questions emailed to me about is process.   If I screw this up hopefully Scott will chime in to clarify.

Like most, if not all, artists who work from life Scott judges values by observation.  The proper way for an artist to judge values is by squinting at his/her subject.  Squinting reduces detail and subtle variation.  This helps us “see” an average value for each large masses.  The general value of any one major mass exists relative to the other major masses.  It is our job to determine how they relate.  For instance, in the sketch, I had to determine if the reflection of the hull near the bow (that’s the pointy end) was lighter or darker than the hull itself.  I also had to determine by how much.  I estimated it to be lighter by about a half step and was aided by noting that not only was the reflection lighter than the hull it was darker than the cabin.  This recognition gave me a slot to fit it into.  Remember the old greater than or less than equations from elementary school (A<B<C)?  That’s how it works.

Practically speaking one of the best ways to accomplish this on your canvas is by placing the darkest dark first, then the second darkest and so on, working towards the lightest.    This is the way I saw Scott approach things time and again.  The artist can also start by putting the darkest dark and lightest light first.  This way he/she begins with both extremes between which all other values must fit.  According to convention the landscape has four basic value planes.   John F. Carlson wrote about this in his Guide to Landscape Painting.  Here is my blog on that topic.

The artist who has gained confidence and facility painting value masses can change the “key” of his/her painting.   Changing “key” is when the artist arbitrarily decides to paint all of the value masses a step or more lighter (or darker) than he or she observes them to be .  The darkest dark is painted lighter than it is seen and so is the second darkest and so on.  For example:  If I adjust the grayscale in my sketch to make the hull of the tug lighter I will  also  make it’s reflection lighter.  When I make the reflection lighter I will also make the cabin lighter.  The drawing still holds together but has a lighter overall “key” and a different feel.

High Key Sketch

High Key Sketch

Center of Interest in Landscape Paintings

January 20, 2010

Old Florida Marina - Wekiva River by Robert J. Simone - 10 x 12

Old Florida Marina - Wekiva River by Robert J. Simone - 10 x 12

Especially true for landscape artists is the idea that one must have the ability to centralize interest.  By creating a center of interest the artist brings his viewers’ attention to bear on a particular area or point of union within the picture.  That center of interest should have the power to engage a viewer’s attention for a time, release it temporarily, then draw it back for a second look. This means that an artist who wants to create paintings of artistic value will need to do more than copy what is in front of him.  The process will involve observation, thought and decision making.  There are no definite rules to give for centralizing interest in a landscape painting, only a few common sense suggestions.

Before offering up some of those suggestions I’d like to spend a few words on why I write this blog.  It’s not to set myself up as an authority on representational oil painting.  I write because I am not.  Creating pictures requires thorough understanding of the problems painters face.   Understanding what and why is prerequisite to how.  Study, observation and practice are essential.  The blog requires that I find ways to articulate concepts in my own words.   Understanding grows as focus is trained on the sound principles articulated by captains of the past.  My intent is that while making the effort to transmit such principles to others I will foster their evidence in my own work.  Motivation is fueled by equal passions for painting and writing.   Thank you for checking in when you do.

Here are a those suggestions for creating a center of interest:

  • keep your most interesting shapes near the center of your design.
  • keep your greatest value contrast near the center of your design.
  • keep your most vital and saturated color harmonies near the center of your design.
  • keep your sharpest edges near the center of your design.

Please not that by “center of your design” I do not mean the literal center of your canvas.  I mean the central idea of your picture which should be somewhere away from the edges of the canvas but not in the exact middle.

Astute readers of past blogs will also note that the four suggestions just happen to involve shapes, values, colors and edges. Those are the raw materials with which we build our pictures.  They come up often.  You’ll find other posts mentioning them here and here and probably elsewhere.

In the next few posts we will break down those four suggestions   using the above painting as a visual aid.

Those interested in April’s Italy workshop will be happy to know we are offering a $100 US discount for those who register by January 30, 2010.  This applies to both painting participants and their non participating guests.  Which reminds me there are activities for your guests which could include cooking classes, tours, etc.  Sign up now.  This is a good deal.

Composition in Fine Painting

January 13, 2010

Composition, in fine painting, is the coordination of shapes, values, colors and edges into a harmonious whole.  The point of composition is to pull the viewer in and lead him/her to the central idea of the picture.  According to John F. Carlson, ” The central idea  is surrounded by  auxiliaries which always assist the eye in returning to it  refreshed.”  He called this the main line.

So the function of composition is to lead the eye through a progression of parts arranged according to their importance with respect to the whole.   Subject matter is a secondary issue and not at all what the painting is about.   In this regard the subject is similar to a theatrical prop or stage.  It is the  scenery over which the drama of composition plays out.   To compose well, the artist must posses two fundamental skills:

  • An awareness of where the eye travels when looking at paintings including his/her own.
  • The ability to centralize interest.

The first of these two skills is the gateway to learning composition and perhaps painting itself.  Think about it.  If we become aware of how our eye travels through a painting we can then deduce why.  Once we figure out why we can then learn to manipulate the process.  It is a breakthrough in art appreciation when one first realizes that accomplished artists lead viewers intentionally.  This is what elevates painting from mere picture making to fine art.

As I have said, this skill is mostly an awareness.  It is a matter of paying attention to where our eye travels while looking at paintings.  We must look at paintings to develop an acute sensitivity to the experience.  As we absorb and digest the experience it will become a strength which serves our own creativity.  It will help those of us who are painters detect weaknesses in our own work.  It will help those of us who teach detect problems in student work.  It will help those of us who collect choose wisely.

Consider the following field study:

Mangrove Study - Robert J. Simone

Mangrove Study - Robert J. Simone

How does your eye travel through painting?  The diagram below illustrates how I designed it to flow.  For the most part it works.  My eye enters through the grass on the bottom left assisted by the tire tracks on the right.  It follows the shadow up the side of the bush on the right and is thrown over to the left by that dominant branch.   Then it enters a counterclockwise loop returning on each revolution back to the large bush eventually picking up the distant purple land mass.

mangrovestudy2

There are no specific or definite rules to give the beginner but next week we will look at some suggestions as we discuss the second skill on our list:

  • The ability to centralize interest.

Understanding Composition!

January 3, 2010

Christmas lights and Holiday decorations are being repealed in neighborhoods everywhere, while news anchors and ESPN analysts wax nostalgic about the end of a decade which really doesn’t end until December 31, 2010.  Bellies plump from holiday indulgences seem ripe for the resolutions of a New Year.  The obvious thing for an art blogger to do would be to write about setting goals with fresh resolve.  But I am not going to do that.  I’m going to hit the ground running with a  post designed to help artists and collectors understand more about the making of  great art.

painting by James McNeil Whistler

painting by James McNeil Whistler

Here’s a famous painting by James McNeil Whistler.  No doubt you’ve seen it before.  Quick question, what’s it called? If you said Whistler’s Mother you would NOT be correct.  Whistler called it Arrangement in Grey and Black.  Here’s my point.  Great, even good, art is not about the subject matter.  It’s about the orchestration of shapes, values, colors and edges into a harmonious whole.  The appeal of great art transcends the obvious.  It is the communication of abstract visual relationships, also known as composition. Whistler himself said, “As music is the poetry of sound so is painting the poetry of sight.  Subject matter has nothing to do with harmony of sound or color.”

This painting depicts Whistler’s mother but according to the artist himself, she is not what it’s about.  Painter Ian Roberts in his instructional video Mastering Composition, quotes French poet Paul Valery who said, “To see is to forget the name of the thing one sees.”  It is not Whistler’s mother we respond to in this painting as much as it is an abstract irregular shape (her dress) superimposed over a geometric “L” (formed by the curtain and floor along with the wall).    On a primal level we are moved by the stark contrast of dark (the dress) and light (the head and picture on the wall) floating in a sea of  grey. We feel that this provincial woman bears the burdens of a puritan lifetime.  It is a beautiful painting which does what all beautiful things do.  It silences us.  It holds us with whispers resonating deep within.

Whether we are artists, collectors or critics our judgment should be formed by the knowledge that good art is not subject driven.  It is composition driven.  Here is another painting which further illustrates this point.

Grecian Flower Market by John William Waterhouse

Grecian Flower Market by John William Waterhouse

The subject of this painting by John William Waterhouse is a flower market in Greece; but clearly it is not the selling of flowers to which we respond.  Rather, it is the stark contrast of light and shadow.  Super-imposed on the subject is an abstract “C” formed by the awning and the shadow it casts.  The figures, all within the shadow, are silhouetted by the bright background.  It would be tough to argue that this painting is subject driven. Furthermore, it was surely “composed” rather than “found”. I doubt that Waterhouse was out wandering the streets looking for something to paint when he came upon this scene just as it is.  The concept of “composing” a painting was easier for artists and patrons of that day to understand.  We live in the time of camera phones.  The convenience of photography, exacerbated by the digital age, has fostered a snapshot mentality which must be overcome if we are to fully appreciate the art of composition.  Learning about abstract design armatures, such as the “C”, is vital to understanding how great, even good, paintings are created.  We will study more of these  “conventions” next week and begin to look at how artists can make practical use of them.

TIME FOR A COMMERCIAL!  There is space available in my workshops at Indian Rocks Beach, Fl (March 19-21, 2010), Boca Grande, Fl (March 29-31, 2010) and Cortona, Italy (April 10-17, 2010).  For more info click on the location.  Also there is room for a couple more in my Monday afternoon oil class at Suntan on St. Pete Beach.  Email me at robertjsimone@gmail.com

Have A Bouguereau Christmas!

December 25, 2009

Today our Joy is complete!  The Savior is born!  

“Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, ” which means “God is with us.” (Mathew 1:23)

La Vierge aux Anges - The Virgin with Angels

La Vierge aux Anges - The Virgin with Angels

Above is The Virgin with Angels by William Adolphe Bougeureau (1825-1905).  Below is a study for this piece.

Study for La Vierge aux Anges

Study for La Vierge aux Anges

It’s interesting to note the lack of detail in the study.  That’s because he was using the study to develop his composition, work out design problems, analyze the flow of light and establish his value structure.   He changed the direction of the light from the study to the finished painting.  Bouguereau’s genius was stunning and his contribution to the historic advance of art nearly unparalleled.  In fact, Bouguereau single- handedly opened the French academies to women.

La Vierge, L'Enfant Jesus et Saint Jean Baptiste

La Vierge, L'Enfant Jesus et Saint Jean Baptiste

Above is another Bouguereau which, like all of the pics in this post,  is courtesy of the Art Renewal Center.  They have numerous examples of this artist’s work.  Evident in the body of work they display is the artist’s growth over time.  When you view his work on their site notice the dates and the overall look of the paintings.  He reached full maturity in the 1890’s, when he was in his 60’s.

Before I close with another Bouguereau here is a fun fact about Christmas you may not know.  Christ was born in “Bethlehem”.  Bethlehem is a Hebrew word which means “city of bread”.   Jesus was laid in a manger, which is an eating vessel for livestock.  The significance of this symbolism becomes evident in the book of John, chapter 6, during what is called the Bread of Life discourse.  Jesus said, “…I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.” (John 6:51)  This teaching is central to most Christian traditions but none more so than the Catholic Tradition.  Catholics believe that when they receive Holy Communion they are truly receiving the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ, under the appearance of bread and wine.

La Vierge a L'agneau - Virgin with Lambs

La Vierge a L'agneau - Virgin with Lambs

What Is Art?

December 15, 2009

A Road Less Traveled by Robert J. Simone oil-linen 14x11

A Road Less Traveled by Robert J. Simone oil-linen 14x11

With squinted eyes we study our subject, comparing   shadow to shadow, light to light.  We use a visual vocabulary and time passes, virtually unnoticed, as we put brush to canvas, expressing emotion through the constructs of thought and reason.  We live in the world of shapes, values, colors and edges.  We build form with the raw material of it’s constituent parts.  Our vision gives birth to a new reality in paint.  We call it art!

But what is Art?  The painter is required to find good answers to difficult questions.  How many of us have a good answer for that one?  It’s worth some thought, especially if we plan to continue the journey from painter to artist.

Not long ago I posed the question to a group of students.  Their quick, unanimous reply surprised me, “Art is anything we say it is”.  “Then a crucifix in a bowl of urine really is art”,  I wondered aloud.  Can the definition of art be completely relative?  If so, the logical conclusion is that snail trails on the sidewalk might be art.  Relative thought leads to  exhibitions which include garish color, poor drawing and confused perspectives.  It’s thick, lavish, expenditures of paint, straight from the tube, no mixing involved.  It’s gallery wrap painted on the sides and mixed media with giant over-sized anything with flames. It’s painted collages of blue feet with wings.  Refinement?  What’s that?  Who care’s?  It’s all relative.  It’s a free country.  Many purveyors, collectors and lovers of visual expression  think this way.  It is their right.  What if some of us dare to be different?  Well, that’s OUR right!

How about the modernist credo, “Art is what I do”.   Does that definition make sense? Only if the adherent is indeed an artist.  What if our slimey snail friend could speak and he said, “Art is what I do”?   Then snail trails would be art!  I can’t live with that.  Besides, I have seen art that I did NOT do. If art is also what others do then there must be more to it’s definition.

The Modernist movement, according to Thomas Wolfe, author of The Painted Word, featured paintings and sculptures exhibited alongside placards  written to explain what the thing was or what it’s creator intended.   Forty years earlier, landscape artist John F. Carlson wrote, “In good art, the results do not have to be explained.  As a matter of fact , there is but one kind of art and that is good art.  There is no comfortable halfway station; it is either fine, or it is not art.”

What adjectives, then,  when applied to visual expression raise it to the category of fine art?  How about a list of potentials?  Fine Art is:

  • tasteful
  • beautiful
  • dignified
  • interesting
  • intelligent
  • simple
  • complex
  • expressive
  • inviting
  • soulful
  • decorative
  • valuable

Fine Art is also how we respond to it.  It is:

  • felt
  • enjoyed
  • contemplated
  • understood
  • purchased

The lists are by no means exhaustive.  No doubt you will want to add to them.  I hope you do.  The more we expand them, the more we realize, this is a deep well.  These adjectives describe a whole.  That’s another attribute of art.  It is whole.  It is not it’s parts.  Carlson said, “Art is the expressive putting together of parts into a beautiful whole…”  This makes sense considering that a whole is an idea supported by the harmony of it’s subordinate parts.

Still, no definition of Art could be complete without mentioning what art does.  What does art do? Again, I defer to the voice of John F. Carlson who said, “A work of art possesses a calm dignity that waits quietly to enthrall the eye and soul.  It does not scream out, nor yet hide behind cryptic or esoteric symbols.  Its beauty appeals to all, the difference is in degree.  It’s strength lies in the felt fountain of reserve and not in breathless exhaustion.”

For those of us aspiring to produce this kind of art the mountain seems steep and tall.  Our heroes, whose works inspire us, exist in some rarified air.  It was through hard work and perseverance that they made their ascent.   It is also through hard work and perseverance that we will make ours.  Some of us will approach the summit, many of us will not.  We will all reach new heights.  We will behold previously unperceived vistas.  We will make artful use of our visual vocabulary to convey the beauties beheld to those not called to behold.  Art is beauty beheld and communicated to others!

Reworking a Plein Air Painting is No Sacrilege!

December 8, 2009

Cracker Kitchen @ Dudley Farm

Cracker Kitchen @ Dudley Farm

The Thanksgiving Holiday and some very welcome house guests kept me pleasantly preoccupied from the task of writing but I am back and ready to skewer a sacred cow.  Everybody loves cows.  Some worship them, some eat them, others appreciate them as a symbol of Americana.  Here’s a sacred cow I’d like to lay to rest.   What in the name of Black Angus am I talking about?  Well it’s the notion, held by some plein air painters, that all plein air paintings must be completed in the field and preferably in a single session.  Okay, maybe it’s not that big a deal, but a fair number of painters can be rigid about it.  Maybe it comes from the lofty opinion that plein air is all about capturing the moment.  To some it’s as if the moment in question is sprinkled with fairy dust, sacred, fleeting and never to return.  Purists see it as their  job to capture and preserve it for all time.  It’s a romantic notion to be sure, but is it practical?  Does it serve the art and the artist well?  I don’t think it does. Let’s segue back to Roy Peter Clark and the  final stage in his model of the creative process: Revise.

Most of us can easily accept that writers, especially novelists, start with an outline and a rough draft.  We understand that the rough draft precedes the finished piece with several revisions in between.   We also know, that in the making of motion pictures, whole scenes are sometimes left on the cutting room floor.  The dictionary definition of revise is to alter something already written or printed in order to make corrections, improve or update.  I see no practical reason why that shouldn’t apply to plein air paintings.  In fact, from the standpoint of practicality, it makes more sense to finish your plein air paintings in the studio.  Here’s why.  Ultimately, the painting is going to viewed in an indoor setting.  Sometimes work that reads well outdoors doesn’t read well indoors.  So before you put your signature on it, look at it in the natural light of your studio.  That’s the truest test of things like value , color and edges.  If it doesn’t look as strong indoors as it did outdoors, go ahead and revise!  It’s no sacrilege!  Artists of all levels do it.  Reworking plein air pieces in the studio is one of the best exercises you can do.   It will make you a better  painter both indoors and out.  By so doing you will become increasingly aware that your painting is the reality while reality (nature) is just reference material.   Your job is much more than recording a moment in time.  It’s about communicating truth and beauty on several levels.  You’re an artist not a camera!  Which seems to beg the question, “What is Art?”  And that sounds like a great title for my next post!

The painting above was started on location inside the kitchen at Dudley Farm during a plein air event in April 2009.  It was revised in the studio two weeks later.  I thought the dual light sources looked in-cohesive so I reworked it from memory.

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