1962 T-Bird

Saw this beauty on Passe-Grille Beach yesterday.  No bikini could have turned my head.  She was so stunning I couldn’t take my eyes off her. 1962 Ford Thunderbird.  They don’t make ‘em like that anymore!

This is the second in a series of posts about brushwork.  Last time we looked at how to hold the brush.  This time let’s talk about brushes themselves.  Oil painting brushes come in a variety of shapes, sizes, bristles and quality.  The shear number of options is  staggering.   When trying to figure it out think LESS IS MORE.  By that I mean learn to do a lot with a single brush type rather than having a brush for every purpose.  All you really need is a “workhorse”  plus a few of specialty brushes.

The first consideration when choosing a workhorse is whether it’s suitable for use with oil paint.  Hog bristles have long been the standard bearer.  There are good synthetics on the market but the fact that many are designed to simulate hog bristles seems to indicate that hogs are still king.  I have test driven a lot of synthetics and always come back to the hog bristle.  It has the durability and natural feel that I like.  You just can’t go wrong with a good quality hog bristle.

round, bright flat, filbert (all are #8)

Next consider shape.  The four main shapes are rounds, brights, flats and filberts.  Deciding the best shape for your workhorse boils down to which holds the most paint and which is capable of the widest variety of marks?  Longer bristles hold more paint.  Shorter bristles hold less.  That rules out brights which are short and stiff.  They tend to force paint out to the edges of each stroke.  Good for short impasto strokes but not so much for long flowing strokes.  I  imagine Van Gogh used brights as evidenced by his brushwork.  A lot of brief, staccato strokes, thin in the middle and thick on the edges.  Frequent reloading was required.  They say Van Gogh reloaded after each stroke.

Rounds, Flats and Filberts are all about the same length and all hold a good amount of paint.  That means that you can make 2 or 3, maybe four, effective strokes before reloading.  So, all else being equal, it boils down to which one gives the widest variety of marks.  Of these flats are probably the most versatile.  Everything you can do with the other three, you can do with a flat.  Plus the flat is capable of a wide crisp stroke that the others can’t quite match.  Regular use can turn a flat into a filbert.  So why buy filberts?

Want to find out for yourself and make a quantum leap in your brush handling skills at the same time?  Try this: paint four 8″ x 10″ paintings, using a #8 of  the each brush type.  Do the whole painting with the one brush.  So that’s one painting with only a #8 round, one painting with a #8 bright, one with a #8 flat and one with a #8 filbert. By restricting yourself to the one brush size and type, you will find creative ways to make a variety of marks with each brush.  You will become very aware of each type’s capabilities and limitations.  For some a #8 may seem like an awfully big brush.  Try it anyway.  You will discover that a variety a thin lines and small marks are possible with a bigger brush.  BIGGER REALLY IS BETTER!   Would love to hear some testimonials.

Next time I’ll talk about some specialty brushes.  In the meantime, don’t shank your filbert!

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For those of you who are in, or will be visiting the Tampa Bay area, my ongoing classes at The Tampa Museum (plein air) and at Suntan Art Center (studio) on St. Pete Beach are in full swing.  Private instruction is also available for singles and small groups.  Join in!  Learning is fun!  Contact me for info.

With September fast approaching my oil painting classes in St. Pete/Tampa at Suntan Art Center and at the Tampa Museum are cranking back up after the summer lull.  Several new faces have joined the ranks of the faithful. The other day one of the newcomers said, “I have taken a lot of art classes over the years but this is the first time I’ve actually learned something in one”.  Sounds funny, I know, but the reality is that many art classes are long on social pleasantry and short on education.  If your looking for a painting version of the quilting bee my classes probably won’t satisfy.  I am more inclined towards education than social facilitation.  The classes are fun because learning is fun.  Those who know me know that I make every effort to move students out of their comfort zones. Real growth requires discomfort.  One sure source of some mild discomfort comes from learning the proper way to hold a brush.

First instinct is to use the brush as we would a pencil or crayon.  That is holding it down near the ferrule (the metal part) while making a coloring motion with our hand.  Makes sense.   Especially if you grew up with an affection for coloring books.  It is also great technique for rendering with pencils.  However it is not good brush technique.  I know it feels like you have more control holding down by the metal, but have you ever wondered why oil painting brushes have that long piece of wood attached?  It’s not decorative.  It’s functional.  We are supposed to hold the brush at the end, far away from the metal.  The pencil-like way feels comfortable, I know.  But trust me, the potential for developing real skill with the brush is at the other end.  By suffering a little discomfort we can improve our brushwork.

The proper way to hold the brush is with the wooden tip resting in the “V” between your thumb and index finger.  The shaft then rests on your middle finger.  The thumb and index finger rest on the shaft.  The fingers are long rather than bent.  Grip pressure should be light.  Stand with your body turned so that the shoulder and foot on your brush side is closer to the easel than your off hand side.  Be close enough to the easel so that you can comfortably bend the elbow and still reach the canvas with the full length of your brush.  This way your brush arm is supported by the big muscles of the chest, ribcage and shoulder.  Brushstrokes are then made by a swinging of the arm which is generated from those big muscles. The result is a freer, more confident stroke.  It is a painterly as opposed to the rendering strokes made while holding the brush like a pencil.

An alternate hand position for holding the brush is a little like gripping a golf club.  The handle is held between the thumb and index finger with the tip end of the brush resting in the palm against the pad of the hand.  The other three fingers wrap golf like around the handle.  As with the previously described technique the stroke comes from the shoulder supported by the big muscles.

good

bad

optional

If you are not convinced I understand.  After all I am barely a blip on the radar screen of fine art.  Don’t take my word for it.  Instead take the advice of David Leffel who is at the top of the food chain.  Here he is:

David Leffel – LAAFA You Tube

And last but not least.  I have a painting featured this week on the Canaveral Seashore Paint Out website.  The page advertises the event which takes place Nov. 8-13, 2010.  Check it out.

The Copper Drinking Fountain - Jean-Baptiste Simeon Chardin; art renewal

No post last week because I was on vacation.  Traveled to New York and Boston.  Saw a show in the City called Jersey Boys.   It’s a musical about Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons.  Not my type of music but great performances and a lot of fun to watch.  In Bean town we met up with a a Boston area painter who graciously showed us the best of the local art.  Saw the Sargent murals in the Boston Public Library, the Art Guild, Vose Gallery and the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.  Finally saw some Carlsons, Gruppes and Hibbards up close and personal.

While I was away a good question came through the comments section….”How do you mix the color of copper with three primary colors?”  Variations of the question also come up in my still life painting classes.  How do you mix silver or gold?  I love such questions because they provide an opportunity to engage the student on “developing their powers of observation”.  It’s not a matter of having a recipe; it’s a matter of observing well and applying the thought process described in previous posts.

The simple answer is: We don’t mix a color called copper.   Instead we observe the subject carefully in terms of the colors on the color wheel.  Remove the word copper from your lexicon.  The lit side of a copper object can be thought of as some version of orange (hue).  Your job is to determine by observation it’s value relative to gray-scale, it’s chroma (pure or neutral), and it’s relative temperature (does it lean towards yellow or red).  The shadow side of copper object also has color which relates to the color wheel.  It is not a darker version of the lit side.  Here awareness of the light source’s temperature can help.  Seen in cool natural light as from a north facing window the axiom cool light – warm shadows will apply.  The shadow will probably appear warm, that is well into the red side of blue.  It’ s hue will be in the purple range.  As you did for the lit side,  determine by observation, the shadow’s value relative to gray-scale, chroma and temperature.  The axiom gives a clue but we  rely on our powers of observation.   For the same object seen in a warm artificial light, the axiom is reversed.  It’s warm light – cool shadows.  In this case you would likely see more blue in the shadow.  Determine by observation: value, hue, chroma and temperature.

neutral orange

Practically speaking I would proceed by premixing piles for each of the five types of light (light, shadow, midtone, accents and reflected light).  In the interest of brevity I will literate a likely scenario for the light and shadow only.  The process for the other types of light is the same.  Making decisions based on what I see I might mix color for the light side of a copper object, in cool natural light, using a three color palette, as follows:

• Combine yellow and red to make orange, add enough white to achieve the sought after value.
• Neutralize by adding small amounts of blue until sought after chroma is achieved.
• Add more yellow or red to achieve relative temperature.
• Add more white if necessary to mitigate any darkening caused by adding more color, especially the blue.
• Result a neutral orange that, when placed in relationship with other tones will do it’s part in depicting the metal known as copper.

For the shadow:

• Combine blue and red to make purple, add white if necessary to achieve sought after value.
• Neutralize by adding small amounts of yellow until sought after chroma is achieved.
• Add  red or blue to achieve relative temperature.
• Add white or blue to mitigate incidental changes in value caused by adding the other colors.
• Result a neutral purple gray that, when placed in relationship with other tones will play a role in the depiction of copper.

A few other pertinent thoughts:

1. There is such a thing as proper technique for looking at color.  Good technique includes: keeping your eyes moving to avoid staring into the passage, using peripheral vision and turning your head upside down thereby shifting focus from what objects are to how they look in terms of color.  The usual mistake is staring intently at the passage.  This is quite a natural thing to do but we must train ourselves to avoid it.  When we stare into the passage our cones and rods are bombarded with information to the point our brains are not able to decipher it.
2. If you are using good technique and still cannot determine what a color is that is a sure indication that it is very neutral.  You can probably get there using two compliments.  When this happens I ask myself if I see two colors vibrating within the passage.  For example sometimes the color of a sandy beach is not obvious.  Often I think I see a vibration of cool greens and reds.  Mixing red and green may start the mixture in the right direction.
3. A good instructor really can help remove the scales from your eyes. They can validate or correct what you see.   Often times I tell a student that a particular passage is this color or that, but they still don’t see it.  When I mix the tone and place the note on their canvas they usually can see it.  With practice their powers of observation grow and they learns to see skillfully….and to trust what they see, too.
4. Each time I mentioned a “type of light” in this article I highlighted with bold for special emphasis.  That is to encourage you to think less about what an object is and more about it’s constituent parts.  Instead of painting a thing, such as a copper pot, paint light, shadows, midtones, accents and reflected lights.  Being fully engaged in these constituent parts of form will foster real growth.

By the way, new plein air classes are underway at the Tampa Museum of Fine Art.  I am also available for private instruction.  Contact me for info.

Let’s say you are working from a palette limited to the three primaries (a red, a yellow and a blue) plus white.  And let’s say you are painting a landscape with a bright blue sky, whereby,  typical of most clear blue skies the blue is darkest and bluest high in the sky and grades lighter and greener approaching the horizon.  You might start the mixing process like this:

• The sky is light so I will need a lot of white and since it is blue I need to add blue. (that’s your hue)
• I evaluate the pile relative to my subject and conclude that the pile needs to be darker.  Looking at the options available given the limited palette, I conclude that the red will make it darker and so will the blue. I choose the blue since it seems to serve the purpose better than the red (the red would take me out of blue into purple.  I don’t want to go there).  So I add enough blue to reach my desired value.
• Evaluating the pile again I like the value but feel the blue is to rich, I want to neutralize it a little.  Neutralizing (reducing chroma) can be accomplished by adding the color’s complement.  The complement of blue is orange.  Given the options available on my palette I decide to add orange by adding a little red and a little yellow.
• Okay that’s good but as the sky gets closer to the horizon it looks more blue-green.  So I want to shift my pile a little toward green.  The only option available to me is to add a little yellow.  So I do and voila, now I have blue green.
• The sky gets lighter as it continues down so, looking at the options available, I add white.

Mixing colors is a little like cooking.  The palette of colors corresponds to spices in the spice rack.  Different spices have different effects.  The usual way of using them is to add them according to taste.  We taste the stew and decide it’s too bland. We review our inventory of spices and think, “What will liven this up a little?”  How about a little heat?  What are my options?  Cayenne, black pepper, paprika?  We make a choice and add it to the stew.    We taste again, satisfied that it is livened up we might think, it needs depth or finishing, perhaps some kosher salt…..

The point is we make adjustments to the flavor of the stew based on desired effect and the spice options available  until we get something that works and pleases.  Mixing colors is not much different.  The choices available are predicated by the paints on your palette same as the spices in the rack.  My wife is a great cook and is capable of using a wide array of spices with great effect.  When I cook I use a limited spice palette.  I stick to salt, pepper and oregano.  Sometimes I get  jiggy with it and throw in some garlic powder or paprika.  But the bulk of my spicing is with the basic salt, pepper and oregano.  It works but it is limited.  Same with paint.  For a couple of years I restricted myself to a three color palette.  In so doing I learned to understand the decision making process and relate it to colors observed.  The constraints inherent in the three color palette kept me  from the temptation to match tone for tone the colors observed in nature.  It can’t be done.  But the relationships can be painted by comparing one passage to another in the context of value and the attributes of color:  This shadow is darker and warmer than that one, which is lighter and cooler.    The red on the tractor is more saturated than the red on the barn which is duller.  I may not be able to match colors exactly but I can paint how they compare to each other.  Colors do not exist in isolation.  They exist relative to each other in the context of value and the attributes of color.  That is in terms of how light or dark they are (value).  What color they are (hue).  How intense or neutral (chroma).  And whether they are warm or cool (temperature).  So although the red paint I am using may not match the red of the barn or the tractor I can make it more intense for the tractor and duller for the barn.

I honestly don’t think talent has as much to with mixing as understanding of the concepts of value, hue, chroma and temperature.   Once those concepts are understood it becomes a matter of practice with a set palette.  Always changing the colors in your palette will hinder learning.    I recommend a limited palette for those prone to struggle.  It simplifies the decision making process by reducing the number of options.  Later you will make informed decisions on how to expand your palette.   Next I will look at some reasons for expanding from a limited palette and how I changed my palette to suit my taste.  This is leading up to a discussion of “What is good color?”

Portrait of Benjamin Franklin by David Martin; courtesy artrenewal.org

Here’s some free advice that may pay off and be worth a couple of benjamins someday:

It occurs to me that a lot of emphasis on painting from life may lead to an erroneous conclusion about color.  Seems logical to assume that the object of working from life is so we may accurately observe and mix the colors in nature.  True, the ability to mix colors with a good degree of accuracy  is a handy skill.  But good color goes beyond accurate mixing.  (More on that later.)  For the moment lets develop the skills necessary to  mix reasonably accurate colors.  I say “reasonably accurate” because there may be some constraints inherent in your palette which render the ability to match exactly, tone for tone, the colors seen in nature, impossible.   That fact relieves us of the need to remember recipes and formulas. A practical thought process is best:

• Know that every tone has a value component and and 3 basic color attributes (hue, chroma, temperature)
• Start mixing the note with the color on your palette that most closely estimates the needed value and hue.
• Ask yourself does this pile need to be lighter or darker? Adjust the pile accordingly, choosing to add whatever on your palette will make the change.
• Does this pile need to be warmer or cooler?  Make the necessary adjustment.
• Does this pile need to be more neutral or more intense?  Make the necessary adjustment.
• Know that each time you make an adjustment to hue, temperature or chroma you may need to mitigate inadvertent changes caused by the adjustment.  For example if you made the pile cooler by adding ultramarine blue you may have also made it darker.  You may need to add white or another lighter color to mitigate that.
• It can helpful to fill in the blank…This pile is too ________.

Key to making this work is staying in the process.  The solution to getting your pile of paint from where it is to where you want to be lies solely in making adjustments to value, hue, chroma and temperature.  It’s a matter of bouncing your eyes back and forth from subject to pile.  Sometimes it happens that the pile gets pretty big and still needs adjusting.  If that happens divide the pile in half and further adjust one half.  It’s easier to shift a smaller amount of paint.

One other suggestion; try mixing all of your general tones before starting to paint.  I like to premix piles which represent things like upper sky, lower sky, underside of cloud, lighted cloud face, shadow side of tree, light side of tree, grass in light, grass in shadow…..etc.  From there its a matter of minor shifts to each pile as I paint the picture.  It enables more focus more on the painting and less on the palette.

Nest time I delve into the subject of “good color”.

Meantime, don’t forget!  New plein air painting class at the Tampa Museum of art is starting this fall.  We will meet Saturdays 11am -2pm.  Click here for info.  Also I am available for private instruction and workshops.  I like to travel, especially to northern climes in summer.  For info contact me.

Still Life with Pansies - Henri Fantin-Latour

The study of painting should be based on the realization that there are fundamental truths which under-gird the beauty of fine art.  Paintings are not good simply because they are colorful, expressive or popular.  Good paintings get their goodness from fundamental truths. Were it not so any purveyor of paint covered canvas could lay claim to being an artist.  Superficiality in painting serves no purpose other than the gratification of an impulse.  Like religion, art must surpass superficiality to be effective.  It must have depth.  Artistic expression should be rooted in the passing of inspiration through the prism of intelligence.  Intelligent art possesses truth and beauty.

Empirical evidence demonstrates that certain truths are present in the beautiful work of acknowledged masters.   When Isaac Newton noticed that solid objects tended to fall to earth he concluded that there must be fundamental truths which govern falling bodies. Likewise, if form, with its constituent parts, is evident in great paintings, it is safe to conclude that there are fundamental truths which govern form in the depiction of three-dimensional objects on a two-dimensional surface. To incorporate such truth into our work would be to apprehend one of the underpinnings of fine art.  Practically speaking, if we were to paint Newton’s apple we should endeavor to imbue each brushstroke with specific intent relative to the constituent parts of form according to our level of ability and understanding.   The cumulative effect of such practice would give rise to the development of skill.  Skill would give rise to the perception of deeper truths wherein lie the seeds of growth.

The logical progression from the ability to depict form is the ability to simplify.  Simplification is abstraction.  It is a reduction from clear depiction to mere suggestion.  It is the intentional vagueness whereby form and detail are hinted at rather than spelled out.  Form is resolved into simple shapes and tones which clue the viewer as to what is being depicted.  The viewer then has an active role in the painting.  His/her mind supplies information which is not really there.  The key to simplifying form is knowing how to depict form in the first place.  An author can’t edit a sentence for brevity without knowing how to write.  Simplification equates to brevity.

Narcissus and Tulips - Henri Fantin-Latour

Knowing how to simplify also flows from knowing why.   The “why” is easily illustrated.  With eyes focused on the words on your computer screen lift one hand until you can see it out of your peripheral vision.  Still focused on the screen notice you can see the hand but without much detail and without much clarity.  Now shift your focus to the hand.  While focused on the hand , information on the screen lacks clarity.  You can not focus on the hand and read these words at the same time.  You can tell there are paragraphs of varying size on the screen but you can’t read them until you shift focus away from the hand and back to words.  That is how the human eye works.  It cannot focus on two things at the same time.  An artist can employ this reality when necessary to subordinate one form to another.  For instance,when painting a vase full of flowers it makes sense not to render each bloom with equal clarity.  We can not focus on all of the blooms at once.  Painting them as if we could would cause our viewers to suffer confusion and discomfort as they strained to know where to focus.  It makes more sense to select one or two dominant blooms and paint them with a higher degree of clarity than the others.  Each bloom is supplied with less detail the farther removed it is from the dominant ones.  In this way the viewer’s attention is focused by the clarity of the one or two while at the same time being engaged by the reduction to abstraction in the others.  The beauty lies not in the fact that flowers are being painted but rather in the painter’s judgment and handling of this fundamental truth.  Artistry lies not in the copying of details and nuances as they appear when shifting our focus form object to object within the scope of our scene.  Artistry lies, among other things,  in the process of selective emphasis and d emphasis.  It’s essence transcends the subject and adds depth to the original inspiration.

Pics courtesy Art Renewal Center.

I have an ulterior motive for mentioning her show.  It’s so I can mention that Julie took classes from me for a time.   Not that I want to take credit for her growth but I want to encourage those of you who are still suffering my dry sense of humor on a weekly basis.  You too can improve and achieve.   Growth is directly proportional to effort.  We have to acquire knowledge and cover canvas.  Your understanding will always be ahead of your ability to execute.  That means that the stuff you are learning today may not show up in your work for awhile.  Keep striving.

I also want to mention something about the beauty of simplicity.  One common obstacle to growth is a hyper-focus on detail.  It’s easy to complicate our paintings to point of confusing the viewer.  All the detail in the world will not make a good painting if we forget to paint the big shapes.  Conversely, if we clearly state the big shapes we could neglect much of the detail and still end up with a strong painting.  Consider these two paintings by John Fedrick Kensett courtesy of artrenewal.org.

In this one, Kensett divided the canvas into three big shapes: Upper sky, lower sky, water.

John Fredrick Kensett - Passing Off of the Storm

In this one, Kensett divided the canvas into four big shapes: Sky, water, land, beach.

Eaton's Neck, Long Island

These designs are so simple they are almost abstract.  More on big shapes in next week’s post. Let’s all go paint something!

Edgar Payne, 1971, Canyon de Chelly

It’s great a privilege to teach ongoing classes and give workshops.  Both provide the opportunity to work with student artists, most of whom have similar stories.  For one reason or another life kept them from pursuing an interest in or passion for, painting. Eventually circumstances have either permitted or demanded that they get started.  Thus begins the great adventure and it’s fun for me because I have been there.  Not that I have reached any sort of a pinnacle.  The road is still unfolding before me even while ground already traversed is visible in the rear view mirror.  It’s not surprising  that there are fellow travelers back there, on the same journey, trying to find the good path.  Others have marked it for us. I don’t get to take credit for blazing the trail.  All I do is call attention to guide posts.  The guide posts we need to follow are tried and true.  They are the principles of painting. Progress is made when the student focuses his or her attention on learning those principles.  But sometimes students make a persistent effort to set aside principles, hoping they can progress without real learning. They are looking for a shortcut (a formula).  It’s kind of like those diet plans that promise you’ll lose weight without exercise.   It’s a strategy that disregards the value of achievement.   It was Edgar Payne who said, “Nature does not capriciously scatter her secrets as golden gifts to lazy poets and luxurious darlings, but imposes tasks when she presents opportunities.”  Payne also said, “… if the student is to fulfill the intended purpose of art, he will have to mix brains with paint.“  We have to apply reason along with study and practice.   One of the beauties of painting is that it’s principles are logical and because they are logical they are learn-able.  Payne also said, “Knowledge precedes execution.  No one can paint better than he knows how:  Accumulate knowledge, Study nature often, Practice Continually.“   Here are some practical suggestions:

• Accumulate knowledge by making a principled study of books, blogs and instructional videos.  Visit museums and galleries, in print or online.  Try to figure out how others answered the questions you are wrestling with.  Make this a daily pursuit.
• Study nature by examining how the principles of painting apply.  That doesn’t mean sitting around ….”La, la, la, la, la” enjoying the butterflies as they flit about your garden.  I do that too, but here I mean something more purposeful.  Studying nature effectively means studying the shapes, values, colors and edges in your surroundings.  Try  comparing the undersides of near clouds with that of distant clouds.    Which are lighter, which are darker?  Which are warmer, which are cooler?  Maybe you just read about Carlson’s 4 Value planes or Sargent’s 5 types of light.  Can you find those principles evident in nature or the forms around you when you are out and about. Such purposeful study trains your visual acuity, develops your powers of observation and builds your mental library of understanding.
• Practicing continually means actually practicing.    Painting once a week in class is not enough if you are a serious student.  Nor is copying photos.   There is no substitute for drawing and painting from life.  Want to practice drawing the figure?  Go to a Starbucks.  You’ll get an endless series of 60 second poses as customers approach the register.  Not comfortable enough to practice in public?  Designate an area of your home to painting.  Have an easels and supplies ready and waiting. When opportunity presents itself put a tomato on the window sill and paint that, the key is to get miles of canvas under your belt.  There is no substitute for time spent behind the easel.   You don’t always have to be working on a big idea or something that will eventually become a finished painting.  Professional golfers go to the driving range to work on different aspects of their game.   Artists, especially developing artists need to do that, too.  No excuses like, “paint is a little expensive, I don’t want to waste it”.  So is ice cream but you still buy it.  SPLURGE a little, WASTE SOME PAINT.  IT IS AN INVESTMENT IN YOUR EDUCATION even if some gets thrown away!    “Okay, but don’t I run the risk of practicing wrong and developing bad habits”.  Yeah, maybe, but not practicing is the worst habit of them all.  Just remember to practice in conjunction with the accumulation of knowledge and the study of nature.

I think Payne was right.  There is no way around it.  A persistent, consistent effort sustained over time and focused on accumulating knowledge, studying nature and continued practice is a sure formula for fostering growth as an artist.   Don’t forget to mark the trail so others can find it.

Blue Lagoon, Ft. Desoto Park, 8x10 plein air oil/linen

I’ve had the good fortune to start teaching plein air painting for the Tampa Museum of Art.  The newly renovated museum remains at it’s long time location along the Hillsborough River in downtown Tampa, Florida.  The ongoing plein air classes will be exhibition driven.  For example, the museum has an exhibition of American Impressionist paintings coming this fall and our plein air class will look at how to incorporate impressionist ideas into our work.  Class meets every Saturday from 11:00AM to 2:00PM @ the Museum.  You should pre-register.  We also have been given permission to work indoors during hot or inclement weather.  That means painting the views from the large atrium or in the galleries; painting interior scenes or copying masterworks, too!  The more I think about it the more excited I get.  This is going to be the most comprehensive landscape painting program in Tampa Bay and a great contribution to the cause for representational art in our area.

That makes for a nice segway into the subject of this post, which is about learning.  One of the great benefits to teaching is that one becomes acutely aware of the obstacles which impede learning.  Teachers are also afforded a front row seat to the struggles developing artists have as they work to overcome those obstacles.  I have a friend and former student who is now a teacher herself.  We often compare notes about our experiences with students.   It helps us hone our ability to communicate, painting principles.  Here are a few recurrent themes:

• Students struggle to see form but seem to see detail with no problem.
• Students struggle to see nuances in color temperature or to see color at all.
• Students often seem to instinctively look for formulaic answers to the problems of painting but don’t instinctively use their powers of observation.

Being as passionate about learning as I am painting I can’t help but wonder why such themes reoccur.  I think it has to do with whatever pre-conceived notions (some of which are acquired painting from photos exclusively) we bring with us to the study of painting.  Compare learning to paint with learning calculus.  Few of us bring pre-conceived notions to our first calculus class because we know that we know nothing about it.  We have to learn it’s conventions before our calculus becomes functional.  For some, calculus seems logical and easy.   For others it seems like hieroglyphics.  Given good instruction some catch on faster than others.  But most can learn some level of proficiency.   Learning to paint only differs in that most of us bring pre-conceived notions with us when we become students of painting.  Naturally so.  We are interested in painting because we are visually oriented.  We have been looking at things our whole lives.  Somehow or other we presume painting to be something other than it is.   Painting is translating into two dimensions the impression of things seen in three dimensions.  Like all translational problems it requires language skills.  We must become fluent in a visual language that enables us observe in three dimensions and represent in two.  Acquiring fluency in such a language starts with learning some simple conventions.  Conventions are devices or constructs which help us communicate about visual concepts.   One such convention, which I call the Five Types of Light,  describes form.   Form is the voluminous three dimensional structure of an object which is revealed to us when it alters the otherwise unimpeded passage of light.  The Five Types of Light convention describes form in terms of it’s constituent parts.  Once understood this enables the artist to depict in two dimensions anything observed in three dimensions.  If the student is overly engrossed in mere detail his ability to see the constructs of form will be impeded such that the quality of his work will suffer.  Form, well depicted, communicates more to the viewer than all of the detail in the world.  That is why training in the conventions of form is important.

colorwheel

Likewise, the color wheel is a convention used to help us develop fluency in the color aspects of our visual language.  Arranging colors in wheel-like fashion gives us a logical means by which to relate one color to another in such terms as hue, temperature and chroma.  I’ll break it down in further specificity later but for now suffice it to say the ability to see such color is a learned skill.  Like calculus it easy for some and difficult for others.  With practice our visual acuity improves.  Too often a student will search his mind for a formula to explain what should be happening rather than simply looking at the subject and making a judgment based on what is observed.

Rembrandt Self Portrait

I received three different questions from readers since the last post.

Will your booklet, “The Art of Study,” be available for purchase? I wrote The Art of Study mainly as a hand out for students who take my workshops.  It is twenty-one pages of solid information.  It’s meant to be foundational rather than exhaustive.  It highlights key concepts gleaned from private study and workshop participation.  It represents a common thread that runs through all credible and worthwhile art instruction.  My hope is for it to be a catalyst of growth for readers.  You still have to practice continually, study nature, and reinforce those ideas by studying what others have written or recorded.   I have made it available to all my students and even a few friends but I am not actively marketing it.  Anyone who is interested should contact me via email.

dark accent color mixed from the three primaries

I am using the limited palette with Vasari Ultramarine Blue. I can’t get my darkest dark enough.  Can you help? I usually premix dark accent color using the Ultramarine Blue, Permanent Bright Red and Cad Lemon Yellow.  Sometimes I use Vasari’s Shale as a shortcut, shifting it’s temperature by adding a little of the red or the blue or both, whatever seems appropriate based on observation.  Either way I achieve a dark accent color.  I maintain that pile on my palette and it serves as a reminder of my low end value extreme.

When I was a beginner numerous paintings suffered because I routinely lost my dark accents or failed to establish them all together.  I learned that by establishing dark accents first, making them larger than what is needed, helped  solve the problem.   Remember that most dark accents exist within the shadow.  Make the accent larger than you need because you are going to eat some of it up when you paint the surrounding shadow.  Don’t completely cover it.  We usually lose the darks by painting them over them inadvertently.  Losing the darks will cause forms to start looking flat, lifeless.

It also helps to remember that “dark enough” is a relative term.  If we paint the surrounding shadow too dark we won’t notice the accent.  Also a dark note looks darker when placed in context with a very light note.  Basically, your dark accents need your light accents.  They represent the full range of value within your picture.  You need them both to complete the range.  Establishing the range on your palette then on your canvas is an effective strategy.

While I never have a problem finding dark accents within my subject to serve as the low end of my value range, I often invent light accents.  I find that adding a white bird or two works well as a means of getting a light accent into the picture.

In reference to last weeks post I got this question: ….if this (good!) painting is not subject driven, why did you choose this “boat” to paint?    Was it only the color and light?  It’s hard not to choose a subject to paint and THEN think about the color/light.  Does this way of thinking about painting come with years of painting or do you have to consciously change your way of thinking (or do we unconsciously choose a subject based on color/light)?

I chose the sailboat for a variety of reasons not the least of which was how light effected the red color, warm in sunlight and cool in shadow.  I also knew it would look good in context with the combination of near complements found in the green grass and blue sky.  I think those color relationships are what makes this a good painting.  The fact that it is a boat is to some extent incidental.  True I like boats.  Their shapes interest me from an abstract standpoint.  This one suggests forward motion even when it is just sitting there.  Same way a red Porsche looks fast even when parked in the driveway.  There was also the challenge of getting the shape right.  I have friends and relatives, including my wife, who are sailors and would notice (and say something) if I blew the drawing.  But it wasn’t just that, it’s also a matter who I am and what I like to do.   If I’m gonna spend a couple of hours working on a painting it ought to be in a place where I want to be.  I grew up around boats and water.  I have a captains license and once ran charters.  I am at home in that environment.

That is not to say that this composition was a total handover.  I had to do things like embellish the intensity of the blue sky, insert a ladder where there was none.  Take the crane boom which was down the way and translate it into a perspective that would fit my picture.  This was done to complete the triad of primaries (get a couple spots of yellow in there).

Still, the sailboat is not what makes it a good picture.  It’s the color relationships that really drive the picture.  Consider, if you will, the beauty of some of Rembrandt’s self-portraits.  That beauty doesn’t depend on his personal handsomeness.   Handsome or not, his self-portraits are beautiful because of the chiaroscuro lighting for which he was/is so famous.

Do we come by this thinking consciously?  Yes!  I think it is proportional to the depth of one’s understanding. Beginning to intermediate painters and uninitiated viewers may see the boat and respond to the colors subconsciously or not at all.  But growth is a series of breakthroughs in understanding.  When we break through to a depth of understanding whereby we realize that there is more to painting than mere subject matter, we will cease to think of it as such.  We begin to notice the effect of light and it’s nuances.  We become enthralled with light and how it plays over form and distance.  It is then that we step out of copy mode and begin to pursue painting.  The evolution of such thought  comes with study and experience.  Eventually growth leads to the realization that the painting is the reality and reality is merely reference material.  It is here that we begin to discover what it means to be creative!  Whatever the subject it is up to us to give it character.

Announcing! I start teaching ongoing plein air painting classes at the Tampa Museum of Art this summer.   When necessary, we will beat the heat by painting in the galleries as well as the atrium.  This may lead to copying master works or painting interiors or the landscape as seen from the museum’s atrium.  Class will meet from 11am-2pm every Saturday.  This is an exciting opportunity for us to study and paint together.  The museum has been totally renovated and is offering a wide spectrum of classes in state of the art facilities.  Stay tuned to my site as well as the museum’s for more details.