Answering a Few Questions

June 15, 2010

Rembrandt Self Portrait

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

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.

It’s More “How” You Paint And Less “What”.

June 7, 2010

The Refit by Robert J. Simone - plein air oil, 9x12

The Refit by Robert J. Simone - plein air oil, 9x12

Here is a painting which is on it’s way to The Wisconsin Maritime Museum, in Manitowoc, Wisconsin for the American Society of Marine Artists North Regional Show – Between the Shining Seas.   Obviously, it depicts about a 40 ft. sailing vessel out of the water for refitting.  As any sailor knows, haul out for refitting is a time of renewal for both ship and soul.  It’s a time spent anticipating new adventures.  This face-lit profile lent itself well to the iconic symbolization of such.  Yet the painting is a great example of something  students often hear me say, “Good painting is not subject driven.”

How so?  Well, the real strength of the painting is not so much subject matter as it is the use of color.  Two sets of complements are at play.  One set is the warm muted red on the lit part of the keel along with the cool blue of the sky and  metal jack stands.  The other is the cool red of the bottom in shadow opposite the warm green of the grass.  Mid-tones at the bow (the pointy end) and stern are conveniently framed by face lit sheds in the background.  These are also cool against warm and warm against cool, respectively.  Notice that the bow is not only cool relative to the shed but warm relative to the sky.  It fits into a slot.  It’s like the slot size called for in some fishing regulations.    For example, according to Gulf of Mexico rules, a keeper  Snook is one larger than 28″ but smaller than 33″.  Any Snook caught, which is outside that range must be released. See last week’s post about painting relationships.

The drama of late day sunshine was infused with a warm tonal quality achieved by adding a pre-mixed ocher like gray (Adobe by Vasari) to every color except the sky, which was under-painted  using said gray.  The painting is also helped by the fact that all three primaries are present in differing amounts.  There is a lot of blue, a medium amount of red and small touches of yellow (on the crane and ladder).

In those respects the sailboat is a stage over which the drama of light and color plays.  It could just as easily have been a white horse wearing red converse all stars….well, okay, it’s not that the sailboat lends nothing to painting’s content, it does.  It’s just that the sailboat is not what drives the painting.  The whole discussion is a way of encouraging you to think less about what it is you are painting and more about how you are painting it.

The Plein Air Painter Resurfaces!

April 28, 2010

If I were a scuba diving and it took me as long to resurface from a dive  as it has taken to resurface from my last blog entry the search would have been called off and I would have been assumed a permanent resident in Davey Jones Locker.  But here I am, back again after a busy 5 or 6 weeks.  I gave two workshops, a private demo, several private lessons, twice weekly studio classes and 4 or 5 impromptu afternoon plein air class sessions.   I also participated in a week long plein air painting event in Evinston, Fl.

The Evinston event was notable for the hard work of it’s organizers, the generosity of locals who allowed 20+ artists to roam their lands and farms unencumbered and for the excellent art produced.  I am especially grateful for the handful of fellow artists whom I was privileged to work alongside (when I was not off by myself).  They shared their hearts and minds, wisdom and understanding.  They encouraged and inspired.  Thank you, all!

Marjorie's Cracker Kitchen by Robert J. Simone 11x14 o/l

Marjorie's Cracker Kitchen by Robert J. Simone 11x14 o/l

Included on the list of places we painted was the Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Historic State Park in Cross Creek, Fl.  Rawlings famed literary accomplishments included a 1939 Pulitzer Prize for her classic novel, The Yearling.  The eleven books she wrote included South Moon Under, Golden Apples, Cross Creek and the Cross Creek Cookery.  Inspired by my wife who loves cooking and cook books, I employed my considerable charms (lol) on Sheila, the park ranger, and was allowed to paint stationed inside the house. The result of that is the interior entitled Marjorie’s Cracker Kitchen.

Laundry Day by Robert J. Simone 9x12 o/l

Laundry Day by Robert J. Simone 9x12 o/l

Laundry Day, also pictured here, is a view of the share croppers shack on Rawlings’ property.  The tenant farmers who managed the grove for Marjorie stayed in this austere wood frame building.

Lazy Days is a scene from the property surrounding the Alachua Conservation Trust lodge in which I was lodged.  The old RV trailer just begged to be put on canvas.  The hazy day allowed for the very “tonal” treatment.

Lazy Days by Robert J. Simone 8x10 o/l

Lazy Days by Robert J. Simone 8x10 o/l

As previously stated I am going to renovate the website.  I can do that without going offline so count on at least weekly articles for the foreseen future.  Next week I will discuss the use of pre-mixed or “tubed” grays.

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!

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

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.

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.

Fishy Sounding Insights into the Creative Process!

November 23, 2009

In the last post we began looking at the creative process using author Roy Peter Clark’s six stage model: Explore, Gather, Organize, Focus, Order and Revise. Let’s continue that discussion.

Gag Grouper

Gag Grouper

A couple of years ago I had the most productive day spearfishing that I will probably ever have.   It was late October, bright and sunny.  Seas were running 2 ft. or less.  We were 35 miles out from the mouth of the Anclote river, in the Gulf of Mexico, when we dropped anchor next to a rock pile in 50 feet of water.  Surface temps, like the air, were around 70 degrees.   I descended the  line toward the anchor which was in sand about 15 ft east of the reef.   Horizontal viz was about 60 ft.   Hovering just above the lime rock, much to my exceeding joy, were numerous grouper.  Blacks, gags and reds, lined up like yardsticks.  No, cord wood.  All near 3 feet in length.  Scattered amongst them were several sizable hogfish.  (No they are not hog snapper.  They are in the wrasse family. ) Swirling overhead was a large school of amberjack.  My heart pounded with anticipation as drew back the bands on my 48 inch Biller.  “Take a deep breath!  Calm yourself.  Stay high in the water column.  What’s your plan?”

Surveying those fish was like surveying the table after breaking the rack.  I felt like a pool shark about to run the table.  This called for a systematic approach.  “I’ll take my limit of grouper first.  Those are my favorite.  After that, the hogs, if they’re still around.  Then an AJ  and if he doesn’t kick my butt too bad  I’ll shoot a couple  snapper, too.”  The savvy underwater hunter that I am, I  drifted over the reef, staying high in the water column.  At least 12 feet off the bottom.  I acquired my target, a 30 + inch gag.  “Steady, draw a bead, close on him.”   Quick kick and POW!!!!  “Now move him off the reef to string him and reload.”  I systematically harvested all I was legally allowed on that one dive.  Grouper, hogfish, amberjack and snapper.  When I surfaced it took two guys to boat my stringer.  My dive buddy didn’t do as well because a nosy bull shark chased him off of the reef.  He fed it a fish off his stringer to keep it busy while he swam for the boat.

What does this underwater adventure have to do with your creative process?  Well, there was a point in the story when I moved from strategic planning (Organizing) into overt action (Focus).  By floating over the reef and acquiring my target  I made that transition.  In the context of a plein air event it’s the moment your subject is chosen and the easel comes out of your backpack.  Being focused means you have a clear idea that possesses some level of profundity and are making a concerted effort to express it on canvas.  Same is true if you are working in the studio.

The next stage in the creative process is Order.  To me ordering means orchestrating the raw material of subject matter in a way that supports the central idea of your painting.  In the spearfishing story, my central idea was to harvest four different types of fish.  Selecting grouper first, spearing it, then moving away from the reef to string the fish and reload was ordering my approach to support my central idea.   I wanted to avoid spooking the rest of the fish so I could accomplish my goal.  In painting it might mean subordinating certain forms and passages to support the central idea and main line (the path the eye follows through the peice) of the picture.

The last step in the creative process model is to Revise.  I plan to skewr a sacred cow or two when I talk about Revision so I’d like to save that for the next post.  In the meantime let me do a little advertising.  Don’t forget to sign up for my plein air workshop in Cortona, Italy in April 2010.  You’ll be getting your tax refunds by then so why not spend it on a “whopper” of a plein air experience.

Plein Air and the Creative Process!

November 17, 2009

The Boatmen of Barcelona

The Boatmen of Barcelona

The above  painting by Dionisio Baixeras Y Verdaguer, 1862-1943, courtesy of the ARC.  Not much is known about the artist.  I chose this painting because I wondered what these guys were planning.

In my last couple of posts about plein air painting events I promised to discuss “the creative process.”  The topic relates to one’s strategic approach during a plein air event and overall approach to the creative life.   So here goes:

Recently I accompanied my wife, Penny, to a local event called the Festival of Reading, which could have been called the Festival of Writing.   I went to hang out with my wife not because I was interested in the authors who were speaking.  Penny knew their work.  I didn’t.  Unless John F. Carlson and Andrew Loomis were making posthumous appearances there would be no authors I knew.   It was a Saturday well spent.  Those highly creative people helped me frame my own the creative process.

Author Roy Peter Clark broke his creative process into stages:

  • Explore
  • Gather
  • Organize
  • Focus
  • Order
  • Revise

According to Clark, exploration is really a nice word for procrastination.  In the context of a plein air event it’s a day spent driving around, looking things over, all the while telling yourself, “I really should be painting.”  It’s crossing paths with another artist who is doing the same thing.  Killing an hour catching up on small talk.  It’s the elephant in the living room.  You’re both procrastinating, you know it, but neither wants to mention it!  So why not re-label it.  Call it “Exploration“.  Think of it as allowing your creative compass the time it needs to settle on due north.  You can’t get your bearings and chart a course until it does.  When I worked as a charter boat captain I had to wait for the ship’s GPS to acquire satellites before I could set a waypoint and follow a heading.   Time spent in avoidance is like that.  It’s a necessary part of the process.  I do it in the studio, too.  I put a painting up on the easel, look at it for awhile then take it down.  Put up another, look at it awhile, mix some paint then give it a couple of touches and take it down.  Make a cup of tea.  Send an email.  Put up another painting, momentum takes over.  I put up a blank canvas, get started.  I used to think I was procrastinating but now I know it’s called “Exploring”.

I like the way author N.M. Kelby put in her book “The Constant Art of Being a Writer”.  She writes about going to a place called Kincaid’s Billiards, “This is where I come when words logjam my brain.  I play for the need of that perfect moment, that perfect sound – the clack – that pure note of ball upon ball….I play because the distraction of the sport, which is similar to the process of writing, makes me see my work in a new light…..I tell my family I’m doing research.”

During the Exploration stage I find my self making mental notes, noticing my emotions and forming impressions.  In short, I’m “Gathering” information.  In the context of a plein air event that might mean checking weather reports, observing the movement of the sun, asking locals for their input and looking at things through the viewfinder of a camera, taking pictures and scanning through them.  This gathering of thoughts and impressions is like shopping for ingredients to a stew without a recipe.  Maybe I’ll use some of this and a little of that.  It’s filling your cart with potential ingredients.

Things naturally progress into the Organizing stage.  Borrowing N.M. Kelby’s pool analogy again, it’s like surveying the table after you have broken the rack.  There are a lot of possibilities.  Some easier, some more challenging and some that inspire.  Your first shot sets up your second, which sets up your third and so on.   Each subsequent shot also opens up previously unforeseen opportunities.   The key is to look at the table from all angles, follow your instincts, formulate a plan.

In pool I  look for shots that suit my eye.  Plein air events aren’t too much different.  I look for subjects, colors, tones or qualities of light that suit my eye and inspire.  Organizing has to do with having all of your options on the table, looking at all the angles and formulating a plan.

In the next post we will take a look at the other half of Roy Peter Clark’s model.

In the meantime I want to make sure you know about a couple of workshops coming up in March:

I will be at the Indian Rocks Beach Art Center, March 19th-21st, 2010 giving a workshop called “Plein Air – the Art of Study”.  I am making the bold claim that this workshop will cover absolutely everything you need to know about painting.

March 29th-31st, 2010 I will be at the Boca Grande Art Alliance giving a workshop entitled Painting the Impressionist Landscape.  For pricing and info click on the respective links.

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