GETTING OUT OF A RUT THROUGH WORK

In response to Keith Bond’s last article I agree that change is always a good thing and yes, it does not happen over night. Real meaningful change comes from hard work, and is a result of diligence, patience and perseverance. I love these two quotes by Einstein:

“It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.”
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.”

I love this analogy. In order to ride a bicycle, you must physically move your legs, press down with your feet, which are on the pedals, which in turn move the chain that moves the tires, which when in motion move you forward and keep you from falling down. It’s a simplistic idea, to ride a bike. It is also said that once you know how to do it you never forget how.

Being an artist and creating a work of art has many similarities to riding a bike. It is a balancing act. Life is complicated and sometimes very overwhelming. How lucky we are though to have our art to retreat to. Then there is the physicality of the act of painting. Nothing will get accomplished if you sit around complaining because you don’t know what to paint or simply don’t feel like painting today. There are many days when I do not feel like painting. I do not beat myself up for the lack of motivation, I simply accept that it probably is a day for doing “something else” related to my art. I still go into the studio even if it is just to move things around and evaluate what it is I have already been working on. Just being around the paints sometimes triggers something. Looking through books of artist I admire, surfing the web to see new artwork, galleries, writing in my journal (I highly recommend keeping a journal), hopping in the car and driving to a favorite painting spot or a new place that I have never been before with a small sketchbook and a pencil, just in case the spirit moves me, dropping into a museum, …. Anything that gets those creative juices pumping and you moving forward and not backward or worse losing your balance and falling down into the depths of despair and self-doubt.

Climb back up on that bicycle, even if it is a stationary one today. Act and through the action will come a reaction and you will most certainly be painting again. You may not have an “a-ha” moment every day, in fact, the reality is these kinds of inspirational moments occur after much work and applied effort.

One must keep a fresh approach. Knowing what it is you want to say in your work is achieved by keeping in touch with your feelings and not painting to please others. Keep working and you will go the distance!

Purist will argue that a plein-air painting must be started and finished outside. I go back and forth on this notion.  I feel it depends more on what the painting needs. If you have said everything you wanted to say about that landscape then a one shot “alla prima” painting done in one sitting is fine and it is fabulous when it works out that way.

Another approach is the "pochade", which is the plein-air study or smaller painting sketch used as an aid to the development of the larger studio painting.  Pioneers of plein-air painting in the 18th and 19th c. such as Valenciennes, Thomas Jones, Corot and Constable made small outdoor sketches for their own personal use and were never meant to be exhibited.  these outdoor paintings were "tools"; means to an end and not the end all.

 There is a real danger, however, that if you continue to work on a painting in the studio that you might lose the freshness and initial feeling of the sketch.   The definition of “en plein air” means literally in the open air. The physical act of being in the field, observing nature directly and responding emotionally is very exhilarating.    It is precisely this “emotional response” to nature that gives plein-air painting its’ vitality. The commitment to keep a particular kind of light and color corresponding to a particular time of day and moment gives the painting honesty, integrity and believability. The sense of immediacy, gesture, feeling for light and air, described with quick, descriptive brushstrokes that abbreviate form and shun high detail are consistent with what we have come to associate with the idea of the “look” of a plein-air painting.

 

Those only concerned with representation of fact will take the painting to a certain level. Those interested in not only recording the retinal image but the emotional impact the visual stimuli has provided, take the painting to a higher level. There is no magic formula, time frame or technique to achieve this. We paint as who we are.  We recognize a place because of the painting’s verisimilitude to that place. We feel an emotional response to the painting not simply because of the faithful recordation of fact but because somehow the artist found a way to convey how this place was perceived; how it was felt; and most importantly how it was remembered by him. The remembrance of place is what we share together.   

 

When I begin a landscape  painting, sometimes I know exactly what and why I want to paint this scene. Sometimes I have no clue, but there is an energy there that has peeked my interest.  I try not to think at all, just react quickly. With the ever-changing light, it is a bit of a race. If you wait too long to start you will have a whole other painting on your hands.  The more the painting progresses the slower the pace becomes. I have made my commitment to a certain kind of light and now the challenge is to emphasize things in the painting that supports this theme. Everything else should be subordinate to the main theme. 

Cezanne said that “the painting only begins when the entire surface of the canvas is covered”.So in the initial stages try to cover the whole surface.   Nearing the completion stage, my pace levels out to an even flow and not so frenzied and even becomes thoughtful.  The painting rhythm definitely changes as the painting progresses.  It is not unlike a dance.

Painting is creating a visual language.  Knowing  what it is that you want to say is half the battle.  Take time to really look at the painting and ask yourself questions. Are the elements of the painting such as color, value, composition adding to the central "theme of the painting" or distracting from this idea?   Be consistent and support your choices. 

 

“PLEIN-AIR COOL”

By Jeanean Songco Martin

 

Remember the country song “I was country when country wasn’t coooool” by Barbara Mandrell? Well, I feel a little like singing a tune of my own “I was plein-air and didn’t know that it was coooool” Back as an art student in the 70’s and 80’s (yes, it took me about 10 years to graduate… I had to take art classes and paint in between changing diapers, cooking meals and running back and forth to ballet lessons and wrestling matches)  Back then painting outside wasn’t really referred to as “plein-air”. It was just called painting outside. There was nothing special about it or unique. There was certainly no mystique associated with it. There were no groups or paint outs, no hype, no fancy gear, special easels or equipment. You simply took yourself out there and set up. There was also not so much dogma concerning the allotted “plein-air time frame” to paint within. Yes, I think we can all agree that the light changes so quickly that a couple of hours is approximately all that you will get at one sitting but what about the ability to work for a longer period of time and still keeping the commitment to a specific time of day and particular kind of weather and light and still maintaining a sense of freshness and immediacy.  Can it be done? I think it can. But you must be consistent with your thinking and your commitment to an idea. 

 

If  you hold on to the initial observational truths gathered from your outdoor painting  and stay on the course that you have set up for your painting, then it is possible to continue to refine ever so slightly and add subtle nuances and a few more details  that you simply didn’t have time to do in the field. It depends on your mind-set and how much or little you want to say in your painting. I have found that taking notes and actually writing down your observations help to define and emphasize the important elements. Hopper did this all the time and so did Turner and Constable. All three of these artist sketched or painted out of doors but completed their paintings in the studio.  

 

When you bring the painting indoors you should honestly take a few moments to asses what you have accomplished. The light from outside to inside is drastically different. I always check the value first. That is usually the problem.  You may not really need to add another thing. In fact, sometimes it’s not what you must add but what you can take out. A big paint rag or brush used to blot out unnecessary marks or detail is extremely helpful at times. My favorite thing to do is to take the painting in the bathroom with me. In our house, the bathroom is the quietest place and the most private.   As I lay in a hot tub of sudsy water relaxing, I see things I would never have seen in the heat of painting. Think before you act at this level and tread lightly.