Oil Painting

I recently completed an oil painting that was perhaps one of the longest wrestling matches I have ever had with a painting. Finding a sense of color harmony was the initial struggle, which of course led to corrections in color temperature, which then made obvious some necessary value changes, which led to compositional questions… and around and around I went. It requires a delicate balancing act to make a painting work, to finesse the technical challenges while retaining the mood and emotion of a piece. I was speaking with an aspiring painter in my gallery a few months ago, and we discussed how much a painting can evolve as you try to resolve a problem. We laughed that so often the answer seems to be “more paint”.  In other words, keep painting, keep tweaking, keep trying new approaches until you reach some level of satisfaction. When, if ever, are you satisfied with a painting?

For me, my greatest dissatisfaction occurs when I am actually on the brink of a little artistic growth. It is the point where I can see the direction my work needs to go, and I am stumbling around trying to find the right path forward. It is usually triggered by viewing a classic work of art that floors me.  A few years ago, an Edgar Payne exhibit at Tulsa’s Gilcrease Museum was beyond eye-opening for me. I remember looking at his mountain scenes and feeling like I could breath that air. It changed my whole perception of what a landscape painting could be, and I was enthralled with his brilliant, subtle use of repeating color. I am still grasping at how to incorporate that into my own work.

My first time seeing a printed reproduction of John Singer Sargent’s painting, “Simplon Pass” was another memorable and significant moment. Not only is it a brilliant composition, it challenged my notions of what a “paintable” subject is. It’s basically a pile of rocks, for crying out loud. A pile of rocks, with a mostly concealed distant mountain peak, and a little waterfall shoved down into one corner. And oh, the stunningly beautiful dance of light and shadow playing across the entire scene. Again, still wrapping my brain around this one, but I am gradually learning to think of light as my subject matter, rather than an object or pretty scenery.

I had a painting instructor in college that liked to say that he believed his job was to act as “sand on the brain” (he cited a German term for it, which I have long since forgotten). At the time, I thought he was simply rationalizing his grating personality.

In retrospect, I believe the irritation he caused created the same sort of dissatisfaction that viewing paintings far superior to my own can do, and I now get what he was after.  If we are willing to step up to the challenge, those feelings can spur growth and foster our higher ambitions. As frustrating as it is to come to the realization that one’s work has repeatedly fallen short, it can also be the thing that pushes us to grow and achieve greater things. When we find ourselves awestruck by a painting, we must then ask the questions, How did they achieve that? What is it about that painting that I want to emulate? Follow that up with a clear-eyed critique of your own paintings, with an openness to learning as much as you possibly can. I ran across a great quote from self-help guru James Clear.  He said, “Study as if you know nothing.  Work as if you can solve anything.”  I am a firm believer that the greatest assets we can have as artists is the willingness to learn and a nearly constant lack of satisfaction. To be clear, I mean by that a lack of satisfaction in the end product of our labors, not a lack of joy in the process.

It is a never-ending struggle for us all, both intellectually and emotionally, at every stage of our careers.  Nearly two years ago I moved from the Midwest to coastal New  England and faced a whole new painting adventure… THE SEA. Initially, I deflected to painting the salt marshes (which somewhat resemble prairie grasses), and dabbled at a few sunsets over the water. My morning routine gradually began to shift my focus. I am fortunate to live in a 150-year old house that sits on a spit of land that reaches out into Sandy Bay. The ocean is less than 50 feet from my back door. I get up each morning, let my dog out to do his business, and stand at the back door looking at what new thing the ocean has for me today. It can range from glassy calm on a warm summer day, to wildly crashing waves from a Nor’easter blowing in at high tide, and everything in between. Watching the changing dynamics of the water has become a daily joy for me. So now, looking at the astounding works of Frederick Judd Waugh to pour a little sand on my brain, I am finally stepping up to this new challenge. Am I satisfied? Not even close. But I am diving in with glee, excited by the prospect of new explorations. What paintings are inspiring you to push beyond your current level?

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I have always been attracted to the work of the Renaissance Artist. Their work has a quality of life and a sense of breath that seems to have been lost about the time of the photograph.

Their work, very distinctly does not look like a photograph, rather it seems to be infused with movement and life. There is a strong sense of harmony of size, proportion,  shape and color. The result is one of a startling beauty and a sense of wholeness and connectedness. You get the feeling that they were not concerned with correctness but rather, in their work lives a real sense of curiosity, investigation and exploration.  The work is as fresh today as it was when it was created. Just think of the drawings of Michelangelo,  Pontormo, or Raphael.

These are more than gesture drawings, they are infused and layered with intelligence and inquiry. Five hundred years later they remain alive, and open, like that of a genuine question.

In their work we can observe a distinct Conceptualized Approach, as well as a naturalistic observed Visual Approach, the two combined infuse their work with a combination of balance, fullness, wholeness and structure.

Today both approaches are being taught. I have had the opportunity to study in schools that clearly offer these different approaches. Here, I would like to share some observations of the two approaches.

With the Visual Approach, the artist carefully observes the subject or nature. This approach is used in some Ateliers.

Somewhat of a visual meditation, the artist looks at the subject and observes the optical nature of light on form and is encouraged to paint just what they see.

Careful observation is paid to the specificity of the contour and shadow shapes are carefully structured before work on the interior of the form. In the early phases of the work the artist is encouraged to view the form as flat, or 2D. This approach can lend it self to a very specific strong contour, as the sense of overlap is diminished.

As the work progresses, interior information leads to the expression of form and perspective as an outcome of direct observation. When done well, and if the artist is very keen, the Visual approach can lead to work that is infused with a sense of presence, subtlety and nuance. With the less skilled, this approach can lead to paintings that have a strong similarity to that of a photograph, correctness sought in exchange of the qualities of movement and life.

The Conceptual Approach, asks the artist to use layers of ideas or concepts to explore their work. Each concept can be viewed as a new question through which the work is explored. There is an abstract quality to this approach yet the finished work may take on an amazing degree of naturalism, a quality of openness, depth and great beauty.

Conceptualism can be applied as layers of questions or as a theme from the beginning.

Conceptualism was used as a theme, with the painting Enchanted Garden. “How few colors can I use and still maintain a sense of colorfulness in my painting?” Harmony achieved through this means has visual unity.

As the work progressed additional colors were added to expand both the color range and for qualities of opacity and transparency desired in the painting.

Deconstructing our work and exploring solutions through layers of these concepts, infuses our work with what I call “Layers of Intelligence”.

With each concept we pose a new question. These questions become a means of exploration, offering a process of self critique and a vehicle of inquiry that is both useful and simple for the artist to implement.

A conceptual idea, is best understood, posed as a question.

For example, “How can I add a quality of Movement to my work?” The artist then begins the layering of questions that live in the concept of Movement such as: searching for paths that allow Light to travel and flow, through a composition. Pace is an aspect of movement. Here the artist might use the tool of Brushstroke, to slow the eye with short strokes across the form, longer swift strokes along the form imply speed, brush strokes purposefully diminished infusing a quality of stillness, space and air.

Shadows give structure to the movement of the light. Whether soft and smoky, having the effect of a comma in literature, or dark and commanding like the use of a period.

Movement through Edge variety, hard edges used to grab attention and create focus Look Here, lost and soft edges, relinquish attention and ask us to Move On.

Movement as Line, over laps with the concept of Design. We are able to observe movement as line designed clearly into the portraiture of the great masters. Abstract spiraling line designed into distinct patterns of radiance. In greek vase paintings we see line used to imply movement as rhythm, in the repetition of line and form. Beauty by design, concept over lapping concept.

Movement explored as Gesture is a very common abstract concept that the artist often refers to over and over again particularly when working with the live model. Gesture unchecked can result in exaggeration, subtly and nuance lost. The artist always seeking balance.

Movement is just one of the many concepts an artist can explore. Master artist juggle many of these concepts at the same time.

As each concept implies a question, we begin to observe the quality of our questions. As we begin to ask better questions our solutions develop elegance. The sum of all of our solutions, our finished painting. A window into the mind of the artist, everything that they were thinking, over the time of the production of a painting or drawing.

How we choose to balance these two approaches is part of our personal expression. In my own work, I have been exploring the integration of these two approaches into one that reflects my values, sensibilities and artistic aesthetic. The question I most often find myself asking is “How can I see this more beautifully, more whole, more unified? I begin by looking for beautiful relationships.

I hope you can see beauty and elegance in the solutions that I am finding.

What questions are you asking?

We thought it would be interesting to ask some of our Board Members what they have been up to since being quarantined. Here’s what they have to say:

Bill Suys OPA

I came home from teaching at the Scottsdale Artists School on Feb. 8 and fell unbelievably ill for about 3 weeks. An already scheduled chest scan showed either pneumonia or covid-like areas, which tells me I have fully made the transition from an ‘invincible’ young man to one of the ‘vulnerable’. 

The incredible shutdown that followed made it clear that this is an economic threat as much as a medical threat. As much as ‘Art’ means to us, there will be an impact on our sales. As I described in my OPA blog on March 30, it is time to focus on the ONE thing that makes us artists. The PROCESS of art and creation is why I’ve done this my entire life, and the past year has convinced me I need to rededicate myself to focusing on my artistic soul.

I believe the highest level of productivity is ‘creative productivity’ — whether in business or Art — and it is best nurtured when many factors come together to create a creative environment. The pandemic was not conducive to this environment, and the disorganization in my studio had gotten to a point where I knew this was a time to take charge and make some changes! 

My studio is not huge, but I wanted to create a more welcoming ‘nest’ that would encourage me to dwell and focus on why I do what I do. The first step was to order a reading chair that would allow me to take advantage of the many beautiful art books I’ve accumulated, and I want to take the time to absorb what they have to teach me. At the same time, I will be able to look around and view my recent work with an eye on how I can drill down to what each existing piece needs to grow, and what I need to consider and explore if I hope to grow as an Artist.

I have gone through a challenging period over the past year or two as I I have gone through a challenging period over the past year or two as I have felt the urge to go ‘deeper’, but I know this inner pull is a healthy thing. This mess has done a lot to derail all of us, but I, for one, am starting to feel I’m on the right path and I’m excited to dig in.

Susan Abma

I have been trying to view the ‘downtime’ because of Covid-19 as a bit of a blessing in the way of time. It has given me more time to stop and smell (okay see) the ‘roses’ that our members are producing. Great work by Dave Santillanes, Bill Farnsworth, John Lasater, Heather Burton and Jing Zhao to mention just a few.  Some, like J. Kenneth Grody, impressively took on a self-portrait challenge. Others, like me, took the time to regroup.

I am always tidy in my studio, except at the easel perhaps.  🙂  The Covid-19 is taken really seriously here as well (I’m in Alberta, Canada), so I haven’t left home in about a month.

As a result, my studio is even more organized than usual.

I have four large upright metal cabinets in my studio that hold art cards, paint, pencils, etc. in small plastic drawers.  It makes my life easy. I can grab anything I need quickly.

The initial investment was not teeny, but I have had them more than 20 years and they’re still like new. For me, it was money well spent

Jane Hunt OPA

“Because my family is high risk, we’ve been quarantined for almost 6 weeks. I admit, for the first three or four I wasn’t handling it very well…reading too much news, and panicking because I couldn’t get my daughter’s seizure medication for weeks amid the shortages!  Once I got the essentials figured out…acquiring meds, food delivery etc., I started to feel less overwhelmed.

It took almost a month, but I was finally able to pick a up paintbrush and get back to work.  Best decision I could’ve made!  Immersing myself in the thing that I love helped to challenge and distract my mind. Over the last week or so I’ve started to feel more like myself again.  No matter how bad things seem, I think it’s always therapeutic to get back to painting.

Attached: a piece from a couple of days ago ‘cloudscape’ 11×14 will be headed to the reimagined Olmsted Plein Air (the show will be all virtual this year).”

Stephanie Birdsall OPA

This Coronavirus downtime has made a subtle difference in my days. It has given me the time to clean my studio and make new brush holders. Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. But I feel like I’m a little in slow motion. I’m spending more time teaching my students through FaceTime, zooming, being sure that I check up on my friends that are alone.

It has given me the time to explore my neighborhood in Ct on foot because there are so few cars. I live on a very narrow, winding, hilly road, surrounded by homes dating back to the 1700’s. I’m finding so many places to plein air, as soon as the weather holds up. The slow spring coming to CT, seems to play to the slower days. I’m enjoying the peace, though . I find I’m meditating more, and watching podcasts of people I admire.

I feel like I’m recharging my batteries, getting ready to explode into spring!

We hope you have enjoyed hearing from some of our Board members.  Please let us know how you have been spending your time during COVID-19.

Our recent pandemic has forced us to hunker down. It’s par for the course, for many artists to stay inside for long hours, but this is beyond normal, as we know. Like many artists, I work at home. To earn a living, I teach, do storyboard work, and have a renter. But I’m also a painter; a sedentary painter. My paintings run the gamut from pure plein air work, to studio work from my own reference and plein air studies. I work hard on my art, but have been lax with my body. Hence, I’ve been stiff. Not now.

Walking uphill as if I’m late for an appointment, returning home to do yoga, drinking as much water as I can, is stretching the stiffness out of me. It feels good. It’s hard work and entails a bit of pain, but I’m feeling more energized. I’ve got a very long way to go in terms of entirely being fit, but I’m actively aligned with the intention to overcome myself. Literally, I’m stretching, and can already feel the rewards.

Similarly, I’ve been barreling down as of late in my painting. While having been under guidelines to stay in place, rather than go out to paint en plein air, I’ve bravely painted my overgrown backyard. I’ve also faced down some unfinished plein air paintings that needed to be brought to life. I’ve even painted trees into a painting where it pleaded for them, out of my head, while there were none in my photo reference. In small ways, I’ve been challenging myself to be better and to do better. If ever there was a time to concentrate on improving my painting, it’s now.

“The Lemon Tree”, for instance, was a recent plein air work that I’d started but not finished. I wanted very much to pull it out of just a lay-in to a finished painting that had a degree of concept, with a degree of…gravitas and grace. What transpired was a battle between me, and the entire army of the painting, itself: the lemon forms, saturation of color, controlling values, attempting to execute beautiful, curvilinear lines and shapes,…subverting some elements to enhance others. You know the story.

I stretched myself just as far as I could possibly go. I tried everything that came to mind, painting things in, painting things out…over and over. I wasn’t sure if I’d win this battle, but it was truly worth it if I did.

A focal point in the tree had to be established. There were lemons, which are forms whose color and value are bright and light. They are rounded, sinking into and popping out of semi flat, rippling leaves. How to describe a cluster of lemons without overworking them? As well, there are many lemons on a tree. How to put that across without making the tree look like a polkadot party dress?

After repeated trial and error, I settled on describing the forms of the lemons, but in parts, rather than by wholes. Leaves and shadows upon the lemon forms could become a device for taming the polka dot effect. Shadow brings down value which can push forms softly back into leaves. Some of the lemons on the underside of the tree could be described by entirely darker value, but still remaining in warm, low saturated orangy tones to hint at their existence.

Amongst several other challenges to overcome in this painting was to depart from my photo reference to enhance adjacent areas. For instance, I gave the patch of trees behind the lemon tree and house, a bit of distance by bringing the values closer together, and cooling the color; not using as much yellow. That helped frame the lemon tree rather than compete with it. I lengthened their height, to add a bit of “majesty” to the main subject, the lemon tree.

The apex of the little house helped bring the eye upward and away from the lemons, as did the cluster of trees behind. The filmy branches that lightly curved downward from the top of the painting, helped bring the eye back down into the painting.

A dance of light amongst the weeds at the base of the tree provided a secondary focal point. Too, it lent relief to the darkness of the lemon tree and was a decorative anchor. Even though I threw in some fun warm color, keeping values closer together than were in the lemon tree helped keep that information from competing with it. The warms weren’t in the photo, but helped bring a more rounded, colorful feel to the painting overall.

By making conscious decisions, wrought by trial and error and then, discovery, I stretched beyond my tendency to the literal, and began creating a work of art. I felt I had learned many things in this painting, and for the most part, won the battle. It could have been better; I could have done more to possibly improve it further. But there comes a time to move on; to take the money and run, as Woody Allen would say. (By the way, this painting is for sale, and is on my website at norakoerberfineart.com). Just sayin’.

I truly believe that what is learned and overcome in a work of art, somehow becomes intrinsic to how we then paint. It stays in there. It’s like a mental toolbox of experience that we reach into, that gets fuller with use, over time. The more tools you have to build your house, the greater facility you’ll have in creating it. Over time, that greater facility translates to lesser battles, more swift answers that fly off the brush which, I believe, is a quality that is recognizable in a great painting.

Mainly, I’m aiming for eloquence in what I have to say in a painting. I’ve got to push myself to get there. I am still, emerging. I have a long way to go. Sometimes it flows; other times, it’s stiff. But if I want to win those battles more than lose them, I have to keep stretching

Throughout my adult life, creating and art has always been a comfort. When I was 10 days overdue with my first child I sat, huge and frustrated, and finished drawings as a means to keep my center. During the weeks and months of the 2008/09 recession, worrying over the state of our finances and future, I went into the studio and created portraits. As my extended family went through heartbreak and loss, I would stay up late into the night and just be – In my studio and looking at color. My pallet, with its brightly hued rainbow, was the same beautiful thing even when we said goodbye to those we loved. As I have grieved losses of many different kinds, I have used the process of creation as a way to process and to break from the here and now. 

There is something involved, and so comforting, about creating a beloved work of art. Whether it will be for a client, collector, friend or for yourself, that creation will endure, years from now. The problems and worries of today will all have faded to the background, and that portrait, still life, or landscape will still remain. That painting will be beautiful and comforting for those who enjoy it in the moment, whatever that moment may hold. 

During this time of uncertainty and Covid-19, staying home with my children, husband, and my work, I have been so grateful for the time I have in my studio. I’m lucky to be able to work from a home studio, simplifying the idea of staying put to keep ourselves and others around us well. As I juggle homeschooling for the first time, keeping our home running, and getting along with my husband and children as we spend more time together than ever before, my studio is a sanctuary. As such, I am guarding that sanctuary as best I can. In there, painting and color are a salve on the pains and worries of this moment. 

The portraits I create will exist long past this season and that thought takes me out of this time. It takes me to places I have yet to imagine, and I think that is what most of our art is for. It is a letter of a particular kind, a message for the future, speaking of what is and what is hoped for. Today the oil paint on our canvas is wet and asking us what is left to be done, and there will be a tomorrow when that painting is complete and enjoyed in the time that is next. Art reminds us that we humans and this planet are more beautiful than ugly, more kind than evil, and more colorful than dull. Enjoy painting for yourself and others and let’s all be grateful to be able to share this colorful beauty called oil painting. 

@artistlizlindstrom on Instagram