Layering Wet-on-Wet

While painting with Maddie, I decided to experiment with layering washes wet-on-wet. In the first one, I started with green, then blue, then violet, then orange, back to blue, etc, for many layers, and then I dropped pink and orange in over and over to watch them crawl. The second one has only five layers, and because it was painted vertically on Strathmore Aquarius II paper, a lot of the paint slid off. Still, you can get some beautiful, subtle, glowing, deep colors this way. I have been thinking a lot about what to make of this underpainting.

Vessels of Memory 2

Today I felt like doing a nonobjective painting, based on a new distorted grid. I worked on the grid quite a while and was fairly pleased with it. Then I painted it with earth colors and some orange and purple and green. I was not pleased with it. I tried to analyze what I didn't like about it, and I decided that it was too busy, with too many small, broken up shapes, that the colors were rather garish, and finally, it did not seem to express anything. Skip Lawrence says that when paintings fail, the most common reason is because the artist forgot his or her expressive intent, and I think that's happened here. I was intending to do something peaceful, and I got so involved in the painting that I even quit following the grid and just threw paint on. It was fun at the time, but the results were not thrilling. So I looked at some paintings by Katherine Chang Liu for inspiration and got some opaque watercolors and started covering things up, trying to create bigger shapes, with more variety of size. Now I think  it expresses peacefulness; I like how the colors of the underpainting show through and create variation of color within shapes; and I like the India ink line.  

Distorted grid

This became the underpainting.

The Resulting Painting

The Aunts Photo

This is the photograph that inspired my series of paintings of "The Aunts." It was taken at a big family picnic in Garfield Park in Indianapolis in 1945. Since I wish someone had written the names of the people on the back, I am going to try to identify everyone according to my best guess. Left to right, Hope (Brown) Todd, my mother; hidden behind her, Helen (Todd) Huehls, holding Mark Huehls; behind the man on the ground, me and my dad, William Ross Todd; the man on the ground is either Lloyd Huehls or Marshall Todd, and the children in front of him may be Bobby McColgin and David Ford; next to him, also on the ground, Margaret Todd, Marshall's wife; woman hidden behind her, unknown; woman in white dress, Ruth (Todd) McColgin; Dottie Todd, who was named Gertrude, I think, and later married a man with the last name of Edwards; and last, Lucile (Todd) Ford, holding Bill Ford.

Re-Doing an Old Painting

Today I took a not very thrilling old painting from my Krumpers series and added india ink and tons of paint. This time, I think the second painting is much better. 

I think I am done with this series. I have said all I have to say about krumpers.

First Place, Hooray!

The painting from "The Aunts Series" that I posted on March 2, won first place in mixed media at the Huntington Beach Art League meeting last night.

Developments in Grandchildren's Artwork

Maddie, age 4, has moved into representational art, as seen by the following works:

The Beach -- you can see palm tree, ocean, sun, and sand

Giraffe

Ryan, age 22 months, continues with abstract expressionism:

He recently made a move towards representation:

"The Aunts" Series

Aunts at a Picnic

Today, for the first time, I tried Ruth Ellen Hoag's method of using india ink to do her drawing onto watercolor paper and then painting over it. I actually had a transparent abstract underpainting already in place when I painted with the india ink, and I left some of the transparent colors when I painted over the ink with mostly opaque watercolors. 


This is part of a series of paintings I have done based on a photograph taken of my five paternal aunts at a picnic in 1945 at Garfield Park in Indianapolis. In this one, Aunt Helen got left out, leaving Margaret, Ruth, Dottie, and Lucile (holding the baby).

Christopher Schink Workshop 2012

Just returned from a three day workshop with my all-time favorite teacher, Christopher Schink, along with some wonderful friends. It was held at Sylvia Megerdichian’s Art Box Studio in Upland. The majority of people in the workshop are accomplished artists, so it was a bit intimidating. However, I had the good fortune to sit next to Ruth Ellen Hoag, whose work I greatly admire. I had already begun to experiment with black lines, so watching her take it farther with india ink was inspiring.

The title of this year’s workshop was “Designing Figures and Shapes.” As artists, Toph says, we need to develop our own graphic language  (form) to convey our intent, ideas, and emotions (content). This workshop focused on using shapes and figures to convey the content. Toph encouraged us to regard the figure as just another shape, as an element to be incorporated into our overall design.

In order to get us to attend to the figure as a designable shape, our first exercise was to do two or three paintings of the same subject with different types of distortion or stylization. Here are my three.

Next Toph taught us about arranging figures in pictorial space as an important part of the design process. One thing to consider is the “background” or “negative space.” The figure always seems so important, but the background must be designed with just as much care as the figure. It should also have interesting shapes, along with the same type of painting treatment as the figure. OR we can make the figure really large, eliminating most of the background as an issue.

Here is my attempt to integrate figure and background into an overall design:

I think I prefer this attempt to make the figure very large:

As Toph kept reminding us, paintings done in workshops are PRACTICE, and when you first try something new, it will probably not be very good. I will try these ideas again and incorporate what I’ve learned. 

Thanks, Toph!

Using My Computer

Artists need to learn to self evaluate. I can look at someone else’s painting and immediately tell what needs to be done to improve it, but it annoys me no end that I cannot do this for my own paintings. It helps to look at them different ways, which is the reason for the advice to evaluate with a mat. Other ways include looking at them upside down, looking at them in a mirror, and looking at them upside down in a mirror. These different perspectives of your own paintings can help you see more clearly what needs to be improved.

For me, taking a photo of my painting and looking at it on my computer makes faults glaringly obvious. I don’t know why, but problems just show up more clearly on the computer. In addition, you can change it to a black and white picture and check the values. By taking a photo, looking at it on the computer, fixing whatever bothers me, and doing this several times, I can end up with an interesting series of photos of the evolution of a painting.

And now I can see something that still bothers me -- that added red blob on the left does not look right. Back to the drawing board (well, painting table).


Actually, a lot of it bothered me, so I changed it to this, a couple of days later:

My "Studio"

Sometimes people are interested in how other artists arrange to paint and work.

Here are photos of where I paint and draw inspiration. My studio is 1/2 of our "great room," with sky lights, and views of the back garden, where we have native plants and a bamboo forest. This room feels airy, light, and spacious. I have several tables and storage units on wheels that can be moved around as needed. My paint supplies and computer are always at hand. My workspace is generally neat.

I also have a little "art room" that serves as grandchildren playroom and guest room as well. It has a closet and cabinets to store more art supplies and books. There are narrow shelves along one wall where I can put paintings I am working on or thinking about. Barbara Nechis says we should put paintings we are working on out where we can see them, so we can get used to them, since we have "never seen them before." Another wall has paintings I have collected over the years by my favorite well known artists, such as Christopher Schink, Skip Lawrence, Barbara Nechis, Tom Fong, and Linda Kemp, and they serve as inspiration.

At last!

FINALLY, I got into a National Watercolor Society show! The NWS Member Show will be April 5 through May 13, with the reception April 15, 2 to 5, at the NWS gallery in San Pedro. The gallery address is 915 S. Pacific Ave, San Pedro. This is what was accepted by Juror Glen Knowles:

"At Last!"

The Heart of a Flower

Trying to apply recently explored concepts, I did a very loose, spontaneous underpainting that looked flowery. With the flower theme in mind, I defined a few petal-like edges (the whiff of reality) and tried to create a color dominance that the underpainting lacked. I actually like the resulting nonobjective painting that feels like flowers, though it depicts no real flower that I've ever seen.

A Whiff of Reality

As noted in “Issues with Shape,” an earlier post, teachers have said that I define or articulate too much, I am too descriptive, I leave no mystery. They urge me to try to define as little as possible. One would think I could do this, given that I was a psychologist and perfectly familiar with Gestalt theory. This theory posits that we are hard-wired to perceive certain shapes and that we will “see” them even if they are not there. For example, what is this?

                                                            *

                                                      *          *

Most people have no trouble seeing this as a triangle, when it fact, it is just three asterisks. We innately try to see shapes, and WE complete the gestalt of the triangle without it being actually completed or articulated. We only need a hint to guess what something is.

I keep trying to paint interesting, nonobjective shapes with soft edges, and then I try to define the subject with as little description as possible, just “a whiff of reality” as Christopher Schink told me. I had some success with “Flamenco!” seen below in the January 18 post.  You can see lost edges throughout this painting, and only the head, arm, hand, hip, and waist are defined. 

Intuitive versus Planned Painting

There are two schools of thought on creating watercolors. One is the spontaneous or intuitive approach, called the “pour and pray” method by some people who disagree with it. The second is the planned approach, in which artists choose to impose their form, interpretation, perception on the subject. There are respected artists from both approaches.

Fran Larsen argues that with intuitive painting one is letting the paint do the work and thus the artist is not learning anything. Artists make choices, and with spontaneous painting, artists let the paint make the choices. Valid point.

Lawrence Goldsmith in “Watercolor Bold and Free” wrote: Watercolor owes its success to the artist’s ability to improvise. ...The artist who can grasp a situation and make profit out of it has a prize talent. ...Beyond that (a general plan and color scheme), you are wise to leave things to chance and to rely on your resourcefulness. (p.133)  Another valid point.

John Singer Sargent even likened painting in watercolor to “an emergency.”

I have to say that I greatly enjoy the “pour and pray” method. I like being free and spontaneous, and then making something out of it. Might be part of my rescue fantasies. After all, even with spontaneous painting, artists choose what to keep and what to cover up. But I think my paintings turn out better with planning and thoughtfulness. So what to do? I tend to let the underpainting be intuitive, and then impose a planned order on it. I also experiment with planned, wet-into-wet underpaintings that look free and intuitive. 

Here are two “pour and pray” paintings. I literally poured paint on in semi-wild abandon and then “found” my subject in the result.  I then put in some defining lines and shapes to bring out the subject. Most of the paintings on this blog were planned, so you can see which you like better.

Flamenco!

Dancing in My Red Dress

Lost Edges

Most art teachers stress the importance of lost and soft edges in paintings to allow the viewer’s eye to travel through the painting. My natural tendency is to make hard edges, so it was good to learn that one can have lost hard edges by having some shapes around the subject that are similar in color and value to the subject. However, soft edges are encouraged.

Christopher Schink uses an elephant ear sponge to soften edges. I just got a brand new elephant ear sponge, so I got out some newer, not-so-good paintings to experiment on. (I had no old ones, due to my habit of throwing them out -- see below.) I smudged away, and I think I greatly improved the paintings. But I couldn’t stand it and put some edges back. Still, it was great fun to play this way, taking away, putting back. Here are the comparisons, all hard edges first, smudged edges second. Note that smudging the edges spread paint around and changed the colors.

Throwing Paintings Away

After we’ve been painting a few years, most of us have stacks of paintings under our beds, in closets, stashed here and there. As you may know, I am strongly in favor of neatness and lack of clutter, so I tend to throw old paintings away. Some artists, especially people who do collage, argue that you should never throw anything away, that it might come in useful later. Besides the fact that I resist saving stuff, I don’t have a studio and work in the “family room,” so space is shared and at a premium. 

Some artists, such as Barbara Nechis and Christopher Schink, argue that it is good to throw away old, not so good paintings. We could keel over at any time, and if we leave a lot of not so good paintings behind, well, that is not to be desired. Out with the old and in with the new. Toph tells a funny story about putting some of his old paintings in the trash and watching as his gardener took them out, looked at them, shook his head, and put them back.

I have to admit that there are times I wish I had an old painting back, because I’ve learned something new and want to try it on it. Here’s an example of an old painting that was headed to the trash can, when I decided to experiment further on it. It started as trying out a grid with an architectural subject, but it seemed boring, so I stamped on it, added line, used watercolor pencil, and generally made it overly busy. Also, it has all hard edges.

Bird on a Wire

Since it was headed for the trash anyway, I decided to try softening some edges, creating some mystery, and making for bigger, more interesting shapes. 

Bird on a Wire Reworked

This is a little better. I like the light shape around the bird and the light shape on lower left. The blue shapes are joined into one better shape. The design is better, but I think it's still going in the trash.

Uncreative Art Work

I paint only because I love to cut mats.

Arthur Alexander

Having spent a good part of the day cutting mats, I thought of this quote. Cutting mats helped me feel organized, but it didn't feel very creative. So then I looked at these quotes, to encourage me to refocus on painting:

Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.

Pablo Picasso

What the painter adds to the canvas are the days of his life. The adventure of living, hurtling toward death.

Jean Paul Sartre

Issues with Shape

According to several teachers, my “strengths” are color sense, design, and paint application (I always thought that was an odd one -- yes, indeed, when I put it on, the paint sticks to the paper!). My main “problem,” according to these same beloved teachers, is descriptive, uninteresting shapes. They have repeatedly told me the following.

Design takes precedence over accuracy. Artists impose their own feelings and shapes on a subject. Choose shapes and put shapes all over the painting. If shapes are too accurate (descriptive) or too general (“cartoony”), then they’re dull and can be grasped in one look. Exaggerate shapes and make them “yours.” There’s a difference between an accurate shape and an interesting shape. When drawing shapes, look for asymmetries, and if there aren’t any, create some. When painting, ask “What does this piece of paper NEED?” and “How can I make this (always asymmetrical) shape more interesting and more mine?” 

Although I think these lessons are starting to sink in, I still struggle with shapes. I recently made a little painting of birds. The shape of real birds is actually fairly boring and symmetrical, so I try to distort them, but make them still look like birds. In this painting, I think I leaned too far towards accuracy.

In addition, the two big birds are too similar in size. The one on the right is a little better than the one on the left. But the one I really like is the small duck! It is assymetrical, has some unexpected pieces, is made up of lines of unequal lengths, has some neat curves and some sharp angles, and still looks like a duck. The interesting silhouette is filled in with subtle color variation and a bit of texture.

I also liked how I got looser on the left side of the painting. Look at these cool flowers.

Why I Love to Paint

While I am painting, I feel absorbed, happy, and pain free for several hours -- all this for only a $3 piece of paper. That’s less than a Starbuck’s, and besides, paper is a renewable resource. And it’s caffeine and calorie free, too!

Painting What We Love

Many art teachers tell us to paint what we love, what we feel passionate about. Besides my loved ones, here is what I most care about.

When I was young, coordinated, athletic, and dancing, I took all that for granted. Now that BPPV and arthritis pain and stiffness  mean the end of dancing for me, I paint people in motion, especially dancers, and dream of freedom of movement. After much suffering and hard work, I have finally achieved a degree of personal serenity, and I paint romantic landscapes in the hopes of expressing and maintaining that serenity.

In terms of society, I care about the environment and social justice. It is difficult to make a painting that expresses a political viewpoint, and it is nearly impossible to convince people who believe otherwise that protecting the environment and increasing social justice are morally right and actually in their own self-interest. If you can’t change people’s minds, then any political painting is “preaching to the choir.” So far, I have not attempted to paint my feelings and thoughts about the environment or social justice.