Oil Painting

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.

I have heard many artists say they wish they could loosen up in their work. Certainly, many of us aspire to create paintings that look effortless, but we find that doing so is easier said than done.

It is easy to assume that in order to paint loosely, you have to paint messily. The faster the better. Energetically fling the paint and watch as a fantastically loose and effortless painting appears within minutes.

Have you ever tried that approach? Something messy does appear, but not in a good way.

So how is it done?

On many occasions, I have had the opportunity to watch other artists paint — many of whom I admire for the looseness of their work. And I discovered that they do not paint in a sloppy fashion at all. They actually paint relatively slowly, taking time to execute the right brushstrokes. They have mastered their drawing, value and color skills, and have chosen to use their brushwork to create a loose appearance.

I realize that I am not the loosest of painters. However, as I have progressed in my painting efforts, it is becoming clear that loose brushwork is the result of restraint, not speed. More control, not less. Better planned strokes, not thoughtless dabbing or flinging.

Remember that we cannot ignore the fundamentals. If we don’t know how to draw accurately, compare values or understand color relationships, loose brushstrokes are not going to help.

Once we have a good handle on the fundamentals, what can we do if we want to loosen up?

Here are a few ideas:

1. Give yourself permission! The only one making you put in all that detail is you. Experiment by purposely leaving out details, and see if you can make the painting work. You still need accurate shapes, values and colors. But paint them simply. Discern which details you really need.

2. Mix up bigger piles of paint. It is tough to make a painting look loose with too little paint. Squeeze out more color from your tubes and use it in your mixtures. Having plenty of paint ready to go makes it easier to apply it liberally.

3. Let your big brushes do the work. You can achieve a remarkable amount of detail with a large brush. Smaller brushes mean smaller brushstrokes, which probably mean less simplicity. Use your smaller brushes only where you really need them to achieve important details.

4. Allow a few well-placed brushstrokes to carry the painting. These might be early strokes you laid down in the beginning stages that you allow to show through at the end. Or you might purposely add a few larger brushstrokes near the end of the painting session to increase the look of looseness and simplicity.

Look for ways to loosen up.

One of the reasons I love painting figures in the landscape is that they provide an opportunity for me to loosen up. A landscape made from simple, large shapes is a nice contrast behind the tighter rendering of a figure.

Plein air painting is also a great opportunity to loosen up if you allow yourself to simplify all that outdoor detail.

Do you have any other tips on how to loosen up our paintings? Feel free to share them in the comment section below.

Happy painting!

We are pleased to share this week’s blog from OPA Master artist Albert Handell.  Albert will be giving a live demonstration at the upcoming OPA National Convention in Santa Fe, NM, August 24-29, 2021. Tickets and more information are available through the OPA website.

As a sought-after workshop instructor, Albert is accustomed to answering student’s questions. For this week’s blog, we share his response to two commonly asked questions: 

Question: When do you know when your painting is finished?

Answer: When I do not wish to paint on it any more.  However, my advice to my students is to see the big picture…

My students seem not to understand the importance of carrying power. How a painting reads from a distance is much more important than the way its details look up close.

I have noticed that the aspiring artists who work with me are glued to their canvases and hardly ever step back…they do not take into consideration how important carrying power is to their paintings.  They do not take breaks to walk around and see what other people are painting.  NO, NO!  They are glued to their work, frantically trying to finish.

Let’s look at what happens in the process of creating a painting.

Perhaps your subject includes a distant mountain with a field in front, and a little house somewhere in the background. What a large amount of space you are tackling!

You are placing all of this on a 16” x 20” surface which means you are condensing it quite a lot. Also, you are standing and working at arm’s-length from your surface to create a painting that is meant to be seen from 15 feet away. 

All this takes a lot of visual adjusting. I wish students would get into the habit of stepping back from time to time SO THEY CAN ASSESS THEIR PAINTING. They cannot get a fresh look at things if they constantly stay and paint only at arms-length.  They cannot correctly analyze the strengths and weaknesses of their work, so they very easily end up noodling the paint in a frantic attempt to finish.

If they lose sight of the carrying power of what they are creating, they are in trouble without knowing it and cannot satisfactorily complete the piece.

Every good painting must read from a distance to be a finished work of art. My advice for everyone: do the best you can and do not worry about completing your painting in one session. When your work time is over, simply turn your painting to the wall.  The next day, or whenever you come back to it, do not look at the painting as you turn it around. Take a few steps away and then turn around and look.  If you have a good instant reaction, the painting could be finished…or it might need a little tweaking.  Make sure you do not over work, for if you do, you will weaken the painting.

Question:  You have said that when oil painting, you prefer using a combination of transparently applied and opaquely applied oils to achieve textual beauty. Please explain. 

Answer:  I will answer this question by giving a few visual examples. 

First, let’s take a look at the painting Deep Shadows.  You can clearly see the transparent application of paint which gives it the atmosphere that is so important in almost all of my paintings. In Deep Shadows I let the opaque flutter of leaves rhythmically stand out and complement the solidity of the massive tree trunk.

Next, let’s look at the painting Wind Swept where this technique is more subtle. I began painting it by establishing the sky and the rest of the scene transparently and smoothly without any brush marks using Windsor Newton’s Liquin as the medium.

Then I painted the tree, landscape and earth with a combination of transparent and comparatively opaque application of paint and brush work.  My aim was to delicately show the contrast between the sky and the tree. 

Now let’s look at Chamisa. Here is a robust example of using transparent oils with opaque brush work. The lower right-hand part of the painting is transparent so that the opaque application of yellow chamisa and other colors will stand out in contrast. The opaque, vivid chamisa and a few of the façades of the building attract the viewer’s attention and come forward. The background mountain, which has a blue-grey atmospheric quality was applied transparently so that it would recede. The sky is also mostly painted with transparent applications of paint with a few touches of opaque paint here and there, again to keep the sky in the background. 

In Invitation to Spring the transparency and contrasting opacity is quite obvious. 

When I was at the Art Students League in New York, I remember engaging in endless discussions in the lunch room about art and about when a painting is finished. Somebody said, and I could not get it out of my mind “A beautiful painting has an inner light all its own.” As you can see, I never forgot that idea.  I have always leaned towards transparent paint, doing so was part of my nature from the very beginning. I also have always liked textural contrasts. I believe using and combing transparent and opaque passages in a painting help me achieve the inner light I desire in my work. 

Stay tuned for more questions and answers with Albert Handell OPAM, coming this summer on the Oil Painters of America Blog.