Oil Painting

The topic of skies in the landscape comes up all the time with my private students and is a subject with which many painters struggle. I thought I would share a few things I have learned.

I will start with the most obvious, which is that the sky sets the tone of the painting.  If you are depicting a sunset, sunrise, cloudy day, fog or even bright midday sun, the sky should convey that mood. Care must be taken to make sure that the mood established in the sky is carried through the rest of the landscape.

Newer painters often forget that everything in a painting must be bathed in the same light. This means that the landscape must reflect the sky in temperature of light.  This is obvious when painting a strong sunrise or sunset, but can be easy to miss when painting a scene with subdued light, especially when the light is a cooler color temperature.  For example, if the sky’s light is cool and the artist paints the reflected light a warm color temperature, the painting simply will not work. The same temperature MUST be carried throughout the entire painting.

The sky is also an important compositional device and has much to contribute to the overall design. For example, when there are strong diagonals within the landscape, clouds can be arranged to counterbalance with diagonals of their own in the opposite direction (in a subtle manner of course!)  Another example is when the painting contains a series of horizontals in its land forms, the artist can choose to either echo the effect with more horizontals in the clouds, or contrast with more vertical cloud formations.

Often times the sky contributes to the overall success of the painting by being subdued in form, value and color, while still playing an important role in setting the mood.  If the landscape or seascape is very complex with lots going on, the sky needs to be very low contrast and subtle so as not to draw attention away from the busier areas of the painting.

The mistake I see most often with my novice students, and sometimes elsewhere, is the habit of painting a blue sky with a color that is very intense and/or far too dark, particularly a dark Ultramarine Blue.  This takes all the light out of the sky, and makes it look artificial. Remember to squint to see how light in value the sky really is in comparison to the other planes of the landscape.

Also, it is important to remember when painting clouds, our job is to give the impression that they are light, airy and full of moisture; they are not solid objects. In an impressionistic painting, all sorts of colors can be introduced into the clouds, just remember to keep the colors subdued to avoid making them look heavy.  

So…pay attention to the sky in all stages of your painting and do not make it an afterthought!  Better to plan the design, values, temperature, intensity and edges right from the beginning.

Deborah Tilby  SFCA,  OPAM

www.deborahtilby.com

https://www.instagram.com/deborahtilby/

Character, Personality, Spirit, Soul – these qualities cannot be measured by the length of the nose or the distance between the eyes. Yet, they are what a client is looking for when they commission me to paint a portrait. They can be revealed, however, in the movements, gestures and tendencies of the sitter. They are glimpsed when a subject interacts with the world around them, for example the way they tilt their head in response to a question, or nod when emphasizing certain words, or the way they move their hair, or even the way they keep their eyes on a nearby person they love. These small but revelatory motions cannot be captured in a single, still photograph. Yet, they are crucial for understanding personality and for creating a meaningful portrait.

In addition to painting studies from life, I use photographs as reference — multiple photos instead of just a single one. But even a series of photos, after a month or two in the studio, become quiet and stagnant. The memory of the photoshoot is much less in the front of my mind and it becomes harder to recall who I am painting, not just how they look. And it is who I am painting that matters. So that is why I began taking videos during my photoshoots.

Usually, I try to take the video when the client is “off guard”, though I always let them know at the beginning of the session that I will be filming. I want to see the unhindered character traits and mannerisms of my subject because those traits often form a large part of how the person is perceived. Video also helps me better understand the anatomy of my sitter because it captures him or her turning their head, providing a three-dimensional view of the skull, very helpful for understanding the upturn of the nose, or how deep the eyes are, etc., (photos often lack this level of information). 

In addition to life sittings when possible, and after studying the videos to watch for clues of character, I will choose a “main” photo reference that most portrays the sitter and get it approved by the client. Between sittings, I will use this still photo 75% of the time, but also flip through other pictures to see various angles and skin tones more clearly. But there comes a time as I work when I forget what it was like, really like, to be around the person. That is when I re-watch the video and see if I am capturing the spirit of the person. I will study the “hints” (the movements and tendencies) and see if I have captured a sense of personality in the collection of shapes on my canvas. I watch my subject’s head as it turns, and see if I have the skull correctly rendered. I look at proportions such as how the head compares to the body or to the arm length. I pick up the brush and trust myself as I work, using the rolling video which forces me to see the person as a whole. 

Moving beyond still images, I see the need to use more modern devices and watch people move, laugh, talk and breathe, and see if my painting holds the image of a being that loves, thinks and feels. It just makes sense to me. I cannot always have that person, child, or animal sit still for me to paint from life, so the video is the second-best option. 

There are other advantages as well.  When I ask a client to send me a video (so that I can appreciate the character and get a sense of who I am painting), it goes beyond a technical request: it is a tribute that honors the subject. It shows my deep respect not only for the person but also for the art of portraiture. It reminds me to not merely copy a photo and “miss the forest for the trees.” It gives my eyes a break and stimulates my brain to think. 

I do not know what will come next in our options for references when painting portraits – maybe a hologram sitting? But I do know this: we are past the age of still photos. I think the reason we like them is that they are “safe.” Necessary? Yes, I believe so, for a big portion of the painting. But let us also bring out the video and paint, and put the photo on standby for a while. Use the photo for technical information, but do whatever it takes to paint the person. Between sittings, or in lieu of sittings, videos are a great tool to study the unique, subtle, quirky, or beautiful movements that remind us of the breath behind the body, and help us capture it with a paintbrush. 

*This youtube video is an example of my process of taking video for a portrait commission: 

I am a professional artist, but what some people don’t know about me is that I have played piano since I was eight years old. I was classically trained all the way through college, with a major in art and a minor in music. I took all the music classes: ​ ​ theory, aural skills, counterpoint. I even took voice lessons and sang in ​the ​choir. I loved music with a passion that rivaled my love for art… it was that big a part of my life.

But there came a point when I had to choose, because I couldn’t devote 100% of my time to both. These art forms each demand much more of a person when it comes to choosing a career path. I chose painting, and the music gradually diminished in my life.

Recently, however, I’ve returned to playing piano once in a while just for fun. Since I’ve played some of the same stuff over and over for the last 15 years, I decided to order some new sheet music to freshen up my repertoire.

At first I was excited to play the new material, but I quickly realized that the music was just “ok”. Honestly, I got rather bored playing these lovely but cliche arrangements of popular songs.

This made me realize that I have changed. I’m not a student anymore, but a person who is capable of taking something and making it my own. And as a recovering rule-follower, it has taken me years to realize that I can do this. The possibilities are limitless.

Now I know why my high school piano teacher was pushing the “Fake Books” on me, but I never wanted to try them. Now I know why jazz musicians can really let loose, and why improv performers can take an ordinary tune and turn it into something amazing.

What does this have to do with art? Well, as with the music, I am arriving at a similar place in my painting. One can spend a lifetime playing scales or painting color charts, and working solely on technique, but at some point, we have to break away and start becoming artists. We have permission to use our imagination and just roll with it. Let the art carry us on an unexpected journey. Those of us who struggle with perfectionism will constantly hear voices in our heads telling us to play it safe, and do things the comfortable or traditional way. Follow the “rules” because they are time-tested.

But that is ridiculous! I have the vocabulary, and I’ve had it for years-both as an artist and a musician. Why did chord charts always scare me? Because it meant I had to take something and be “original” with it! Why does breaking away from classical art scare me? Because it means I am forging new territory and I have to own it.

I’ve been having conversations with other artists about ways that we can break away from traditional molds. Here are a few ideas:
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• ​Glaze an area down to improve the value structure and overall design.
• Eliminate or add elements either from another reference source or from your imagination.
• Do an entire painting in only one color family.
• Choose unusual subject matter (I am currently starting a series on people working out at the gym!).
• Go through stacks of old studies and paintings and analyze why they worked or didn’t.
• Drastically change some of them to see if your problem solving skills have improved since you first painted them.

The list goes on and on. I would love to hear what you have to say — how are you successfully “breaking the rules” in your art?

I consider myself a colorist.  That is, I find that color palette inspires the visual message I wish to convey in my painting.  Interestingly though, color is subordinate in what I do. As a more-or-less representational painter, color always submits to value.  My goal is to make a thing look like a thing.  And the way to achieve this is through getting my values on point, and by accurately drawing patterns of shapes in order that the abstract pattern ultimately mimics the likeness of a thing.  Color is inconsequential at this stage. It is through attaining an accurate pattern of shapes varying in tone that I create my visual interpretation and representation of what is natural.  

Now these values, or patterns of light and dark shapes, take their form in particular mixtures of colors.  And it is through achieving an accuracy in these patterns that we can then create the illusion of three-dimensional form on a two-dimensional surface.  And as we create this illusion, and make our marks with intention, we eagerly guide our viewers through our painting compositions.  Through the particular choices of colors used in the manners that follow, I use color to make my visual statement.  

Color is only one of the common elements in a work of art.  Elements are stylistic features through which an artist conveys her visual expression.  (Other elements are line, shape, form, space, texture and value.)  An artist might adhere to several of these elements in a work, but choose to emphasize one in particular and use it to make the visual statement.  

There are various approaches to using color in painting.  It can be used as light; as tone; as pattern; as form; as symbol; as movement; as harmony; as contrast and as mood.  

As artists, we choose color that evokes a particular mood; sometimes the degree of chromatic intensity determines a state of emotion.  Relationships among the intense and the diluted can determine harmony.  Color harmony refers to “the property that certain aesthetically pleasing color combinations have.”  These combinations include both the opposing and the compatible on the color wheel, the sum of which creates an agreeable accordance, like a set of satisfying musical chords in harmony.  But the way humans respond both emotionally and perceptively to color and mood is not objective; it may be subject to age, gender, and personal preference for example.  Additionally, cultural and social-based differences affect how we learn about color.  

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Describing form by varying color and value is one way to create the illusion of three-dimensionality on a flat surface.  Those of us with full color vision get to discern the subtleties in color variation.  Artists can shift hue or family of color according to temperature as well.  In the art world, painters have historically marveled at the optical illusions that artists have learned to impress upon their viewers.  One such illusion, employed by the Impressionists, involves adjusting color in alternating color temperatures while increasing or decreasing value.  This method makes use of applying color as contrast. This trick helps to create the illusion of three-dimensionality or three-dimensional form.  Furthermore, one might choose to increase or decrease saturation in these alternating swaths of color and value mixture.  Another significant aspect of this technique is that it implies broken color or optical mixing:  instead of blending values and paint mixes together, the artist lays down discrete strokes side by side and the optic nerve in the brain perceptually mixes the color.  

Contrasting color can be a way to draw the viewer into parts of the painting.  Manipulating the saturation level of a color in relation to its surrounding colors helps draw the viewer to a focal point.  For instance, raising saturation in one area, in relation to surrounding muted colors, will cause the saturated area to stand out or attract attention.  

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Though the science is questionable on color, my experience with museum work, art appreciation, and my perception of work being done by current artists, reveals certain patterns of color relationship that please.   An artist invites a viewer into their work and navigates them through a painting by creating focal points that attract the eye, like key points within a map.  These key points can be distinguished through sharp edge work, high contrast, and saturation of color. For me, it is through high contrast or the juxtaposition of disparate values coupled with elevated intensity of chroma where I find resonance in a painting.  And here, color can be used as light.  

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Through navigating form through color, emphasizing and exaggerating light in color, contrasting temperature in color, using color as tone or value, and using color as form and creating color harmony, I make my visual statement through the element of color.  I deliberately craft focal points demonstrating these different usages of color.  There are often a few focal points or areas to rest on.  And it is through the manipulation of color choices that I guide my viewer through a painting.   I think of a painting as a geographic map: the eyes of the viewer are the explorer who bounces around from one significant point to the next, taking a road or river to the next stop.  The individual points are compelling enough to spend a little time in, but the next one beckons and the traveler moves on to explore the land mass in its entirety.  

Did you know that OPA has been sharing artists’ blog posts for over ten years?  We have an extensive collection available to the public on our website. This summer, OPA will be taking Deep Dives into our archives and sharing our favorite posts from years past. Please enjoy this Deep Dive by Larry Moore.

I have heard it said by more than a few realist artists that they have no connection to abstract art. It is not their thing, they do not get it, it is not real art, etc. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but I believe that some of these artists are missing out on addressing a key component of individuality in painting: Trust. I teach abstract painting for this very reason.

The goal is not to convert realist painters into abstract ones, but to help artists think about what paint can do if they let it by employing dynamic symmetry, hierarchy, division of space, edge, paint handling and color relationships without basing it on a known source. Painting abstractly has helped my realist work grow in leaps and bounds. And to date, after 25 plus years of teaching, no one has jumped ship from their existing path, they expand their visual language and take the lessons to fold back into their process. 

To build trust in one’s own process is to enable the unique voice of the artist. This voice is comprised of some combination of the key characteristics of painting: intent, drawing, value, color, edge, paint handling, mark making, composition, line, narrative and about 10 other devices in the painter’s tool kit. That is why there are so many wings at the Metropolitan Museum of Art — lots of unique voices in art equal lots of wings at the museums. And who do we go see when visiting such places? Those artists who exhibit that trust, that faith in their own vision, the pioneers, the masters of hand and medium. We seek those who are empowered by authenticity. 

I mean, let’s face it, if everyone painted the exact same way, it would be pretty dang boring.

The key to building trust is to venture out past the comfortable known areas of process and concept and hang out on the thin branches for a while. You would think it would be easy for artists to do this. What is the worst that could happen? But, surprisingly, it is not easy. The realist regimen incorporates a series of control measures to ensure a fair amount of accuracy: get your drawing right, get your values right, put something on the thirds cross-hairs, mix the paints just so… all to beautiful effect. Control on the front end.

Abstract painting is that process, only backwards. The control is on the back end. Which means higher risk and higher failure rates, and that can be uncomfortable. But the process of doing, even on a small scale, teaches an enormous amount about what paint can do independent of subject or content in a painting. This can be part of a healthy aesthetic training program, sort of like taking a day to do Argentine Tango if you are more of a Viennese waltz kind of a person. 

I could rattle off a ton of realist deities whose work dances with the abstract: N. Fechin, C. Anderson, J. Sorolla, C. Monet, J. Twachtman, E.C. Fortune, G. Klimt, E. Dickenson, T. H. Benton, T. Thompson, B. Dugarzhapov and so on. If you put realist painting on the same spectrum as abstract painting, some of these artists are just a little closer to one end than the other. 

So, what is to be gained from this kind of exploration?

• You get unstuck in a hurry.
• You get more paint handling ideas.
• You get a better understanding of what the components of painting can do.
• You get more adventurous compositional ideas.
• Your creative thinking skills get a workout.
• Your critical thinking skills get a workout.
• Your significant other will find you more attractive.
• You will loosen up just a little bit.
• Your back won’t hurt as much.

You may not experience all of those, but I promise at least a few will happen. 

Let’s say that you are at least moderately intrigued. What next? How does one do this kind of playful study? The doing it part is pretty easy, it is the brain that you have to deal with. There are several secrets to getting your brain to go along with the plan. We are creatures of habit and change is not always easy.

• Give yourself permission to play.
• Spend a few hours making shapes on canvas with a brush and one color. Make compositional shape ideas.
• Change your approach. Change your materials, your brushes, tape canvases into quarters to disable the perfectionist feature.
• Work out from a reference source (see ink and wash sketches), put the reference source away and paint from the sketches. Repeat.
• Mix up some large piles of color that you love and just start moving it around. Come back in an hour or two and work on refining the paint into interesting compositions.
• Hide them away for a while. Be like Dr. Frankenstein and keep your creations in the cellar.

If you ever feel a little stuck or bored with yourself, this is as good a cure as I have found. And don’t worry, you will not suddenly start wearing a rainbow wig or anything weird. Trust me, you will learn something new about yourself, and may even grow as an artist.