Day Four: "Murder Of Crows"

Good Morning!

It's always a good morning when there are fresh hot cranberry muffins and coffee, and a warm fire crackling. Eudie (that's my dog) is anxious about the muffins, it seems his breakfast wasn't enough for him this morning.

The past few nights I've been watching the slight sliver of the new moon gently waxing. Night before last, there was a gossamer cloud just veiling its soft glow, it had the appearance of bright light glinting off of a single strand of hair; the kind of light that is so bright it distorts any surrounding vision, and splays the beams apart so all you can see is the effect of the light radiating around the frail object as a halo. It took my breath away.

Light is a big subject in Art, I don't have the time or the space to go into depth but a short list of artist's to look at (as I have done recently) would be Turner, Seurat's pencil drawings, Monet's Haystack series, and O'Keefee's paintings from her New York years; in particular, her painting The Shelton with Sunspots (seen right) in the Art Institute of Chicago's collection (I did a lot of looking at that painting). I also especially liked Turner's quote, "I'm interested in drawing what I see, not what I know".

So just how does one go about depicting light, a natural, basically invisible element, that we can really only see the effect of as it reacts to objects? AND, how can I use ground minerals, chemicals, various oils, and solids (called paint), to depict this invisible element? That's a big idea! One that can be answered by Turner's comment, paint what you see, not what you know (or think you know). To further heighten any anxiety you may be feeling with this question, I ask; How can you paint what you see, when (as a studio painter) you are painting an idea in your mind, and not really looking at a finite object or scene?


At this point I'll have to get specific about the painting I am working on. As you can see, the canvas is now nearly covered with paint. The atmosphere around the central forms is deepening and some clarification is coming into view inside of the forms themselves. Still, this is mostly underpainting that will likely be covered by successive layers of paint. I like this stage of painting. I enjoy watching the rivulets of turp-thinned pigments run down the surface. Because of the heavy surface texture, the drips at times follow the contours of the forms, in a kind of passive delineation that allows the painting itself to speak to me. Some would call these happy accidents, I don't really see them as such (though I do welcome happiness wherever I can find it)

Note: Some artists work from dark toward light, others from light to dark; I never really clearly understood either trail of thought. I usually start by applying a ground of paint to the canvas (called imprimata), to reduce absorbency thus allowing easier application of subsequent layers of paint. This process can also be done to enhance a painting by introducing a complementary or discordant color to achieve different effects. I actually prefer a darker ground because it's dramatic, and has a harmonizing effect (for some this is a drawback). I did not begin this canvas with imprimata. The last few paintings I've completed were all started that way, I suppose I wanted to remind myself why I prefer a tinted canvas.

Back to the question at hand; how to paint what I see, looking at what I envision? Basically, the way I look at it, in order to have light in your composition, you need to have color; to have color you need shape, and to have shape you need space. This may sound like a catch 22, but not if put in the correct order.

I need a caveat here.
Please understand there are exceptions to
EVERY RULE!
Any of these steps can be done in any order at any time.
(besides, remember there really aren't any rules in making Art)

Three dimensional space can be developed in a two dimensional plane by using this simple idea. The five most important lines in your work are the three outer edges and the fifth line (at a diagonal) receding back into that space (thanks to the teachings of Hans Hoffman). From this starting point (whether you actually draw it in or simply recognize its presence) shape can be located, color can be placed, and the light can appear.

With today's painting, you can see the fifth line (beige in color, in the lower right quarter of the canvas) receeding back to the left; the line is picked up by the top point of the black vertical stroke, and then the division of the yellow and purple colors. Here it intersects the horizon-line (light area on the left, black to gray color shift on the right). The formation of a cube, containing a jumble of bright colors, is sitting in a field of monochromatic greens, browns, indigo, and gray.

To build the illusion of light (sorry, this cannot happen all at once) I have purposefully left bare canvas in some areas. My focus at this point is to build spatial atmosphere up around the central form. You can see there are many areas of the painting in motion, some dripping, some brushy, a few are even incised into the paint. This is an exciting moment in painting a lot is happening and nothing is settled.

I think that's enough, my fire has gone out! I'd love to answer any questions, hear your comments.

Paint well...