Archive for November, 2018

An epic failure revisited

Thursday, November 15th, 2018

In my previous blog I referred to learning from our unsuccessful efforts.  Obviously, I had gone through the process of doing exactly that. You may be asking to what painting I was referring in my previous blog, regarding learning from flubs.

I hate to admit it, but I had jumped into too large-sized a painting when I undertook to paint “Dawning Light,” at 30”x40” after having ignored any canvases larger than 8”x10” for several years.  Though I had fun painting it and learned a lot in the process, the final result deserves the sorry status of “starving artist” work.  It was definitely not one of my better efforts, and certainly not one I should have signed off on.

So what exactly went wrong? … Aside from a weak compositional design, multiple focal areas, lack of dominant value, and trite color harmony?  Well, not too much, I suppose, … after I addressed some problems with perspective, brushwork, edges, optical color mixing, halation, and a few other issues.  (A more specific  critique of the painting appeared in my November newsletter, “Around and About.”)

Lessons learned include a reminder to preplan the notan structure, color harmony, and overall composition carefully before beginning (and not changing my mind in mid-project).  It also served as a reminder of the value of optical color mixing, use of halation, practice in creating a sense of iridescence, observing the behavior of bounced light, the importance of observation of such natural phenomena as skies and ocean waves, being generous with paint, maintaining discrete values on my palette, … and being content to take smaller steps to get where I want to go.

(What?  You don’t really think I’d post an image of such a disaster here, do you?)

But it wasn’t a total loss.  It was a wake-up call to review early lessons and continue striving to reach a consistently higher standard.  And that’s never a bad thing.

Every effort—a learning opportunity

Thursday, November 1st, 2018

Does an artist always need to practice?  Absolutely!  The old adage “Use it or lose it,” applies here just as much as in any other realm.  Conscious and deliberate practice sessions are often undertaken to develop or strengthen a specific skill.  But every painting I undertake … or even consider and reject before ever setting brush to palette … gives me additional practice in skills that continually need honing.

Whether to paint, or not, is a continual question:  Is this subject worthy of the time and effort needed?  Is the concept interesting or evocative?  What makes me want to paint it?  Can the subject or scene be treated in an interesting enough manner to create an appealing composition?  When the answer is no, I keep looking.  When it is yes, it poses further questions:

How varied is the value range, and can it be adjusted or simplified to create a stronger statement?  How should I handle the color harmony?  Does the subject lend itself to a limited palette or beg for a broader spectrum of hues?  What is the chromatic range?  Will it translate well into paint?  If not, how can the scene be modified to improve its effectiveness?

What structural design will best serve the subject to effectively express the concept?

All of these questions and many more need to be dealt with before painting should actually begin.  And the act of simply going through the exercise of seeking the answers (either consciously or subconsciously) sharpens my artistic eye and multiplies the creative possibilities.

Finding alternatives to the obvious answers helps keep my work fresh.  Why allow it to bog down by approaching the same types of subjects in the same-ol’-same-ol’ ways?  It’s good to play with fresh approaches to see what might evolve.

No matter how hard we may try, not every painting is going to succeed.  But that doesn’t mean that the effort is wasted.  Every painting, whether successful or not, serves a purpose.  It is another step along an endless learning curve.  It may reinforce previous successes or call attention to a need for stricter attention to some technical skill; it sharpens my perception and hones my technique.  And it broadens my experience, which in turn nurtures my creativity.

Oh yes, it’s wonderful to find encouragement in achieving a difficult effect.  But it’s also a welcome challenge to recognize the need for developing a different approach to a seemingly insurmountable problem.  That simply serves as a goad to keep me trying.  And that, in itself, is valuable.

We rarely underestimate the satisfaction of a success.  But neither should we underestimate the positive potential of a failure!  We should always ask what we can learn from it.