Oil Painting

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. OPA will be taking Deep Dives into our archives and sharing our favorite posts from years past. Please enjoy this Deep Dive by Bill Suys OPAM from 2020.

As the world seems to spin out of control outside of our studios, this may be a good time to revisit the ONE thing that truly enables you to stay engaged as a life-long artist: satisfaction from, and a love for, the PROCESS.

Wanting to become a ‘great’ artist is the norm for someone new to art, but with experience, what compels you to STAY an Artist? I have been an artist at my core since I was a little kid, spread out on the living room floor sketching on scrap paper, and with the global turmoil and its likely sobering effect on the Art Market, this is a good time to refocus on the one thing that will help you stay on track.

I’ll start with an excerpt from an early oil, “Self-Thoughtrait,” where I incorporated an essay of my thoughts on ‘Art’. Though written about 20 years ago, it still offers a glimpse into what excites me: 

“The blank canvas offers absolute creative freedom. Within its two-dimensional surface, it provides the same opportunity afforded past artists, from Leonardo to Picasso, Memling to Warhol, and beyond.  Each new surface sparkles with wonderful opportunity and incredible challenge.  

Today, alone in my studio, I choose to reflect upon this opportunity.

My dual relationship with each canvas begins with an emotional and physical exploration…the current culmination of my thoughts, feelings, experience, practice, and desire. I’m free to create an intimate painting of quiet beauty, or a bold and involved expression of spirit and persuasion.  The quality and depth of this personal and passionate process is infinitely variable, and I derive satisfaction and–when lucky–intense joy through the creative dance and budding conversation that takes place between canvas, paint, brush and artist. 

Once complete, the piece becomes an individual, left to stand alone…and the second half of the artistic process requires a viewer to complete the connection.”

Too often, we correlate the ‘success’ of our work with the ‘second half’, where others are in control, and though there is usually plenty of healthy feedback, we also find silly ways to be disappointed. Let me share a recent experience where the ‘process’ was joyful and rewarding, while the ‘sharing’ could have been just another source of discouragement:

A couple of years ago, upon our arrival for an extended stay in Santa Fe, my wife and I came upon a beautiful concert being held in the City’s famous plaza. The atmosphere and the music were fabulous, and watching the performance over the crowd left an impression powerful enough that I knew I would explore it in a painting. 

About a year later, with the memory still strong in my soul, I created a portrait of that evening. I placed the canvas on my easel above eye level to recreate that sense of looking over the crowd and as I painted I could feel the atmosphere, hear the music, and alone in my studio I was able to sense and celebrate that wonderful experience. 

Once the painting was complete, I felt it had lasting strength, so I decided to enter it into an important National show. To my delight, it was accepted and I shipped it off, knowing I would happen to be in the city where the show was taking place and I’d be able to attend the opening.

On the night of the opening, I entered the beautiful venue and as is often the case, the show was hung salon-style in order to exhibit as many pieces as possible on the available wall space. When I finally spotted my piece, I saw it was hung at knee level, which in the case of this particular painting was devastating to me…lost was that above-the-crowd ethereal atmosphere. If the connection and impact were lost for me, I knew the judge would never sense it and potential buyers would drift past. I immediately understood this painting would languish and it was destined to come home. 

Thankfully, the disappointment was short-lived because I still treasured the experience of my personal artistic process. My time in the studio with this piece still fed my soul, and I knew I would have more opportunities to grow and create.

With the impact of our current pandemic on the economy, and knowing the importance of the health of the stock market on the people who are able to purchase art, there will likely be a slowdown in sales (and more mac & cheese) over the next months and years. Rather than allowing this to lead to disappointment, lean into the importance of the Artistic Process and let IT feed your soul. Get in to the studio and get back to the creative dance and conversation that take place between canvas, paint, brush and artist. Your artistic life will be better for it.

For a bit more insight into the creative process, take a look at my earlier blog post, where I talk about the “two keys“ to progressing as an artist. 

You can follow my work on Instagram @billsuys.
My best to you as we walk this path together — yet socially distanced!

Why do we paint? Is it a calling, a way to make a living? Is being an artist glamorous? Do we paint because it is like an addiction, we have no choice, it is a need, a love? For me it is a calling. I was exposed to painting and drawing by my older brothers. In their spare time they drew and painted, they had no formal training they just loved doing it. 

My journey was not directly in the arts. I worked as a cabinet maker, insurance agent, shoe salesman and eventually worked in the art department of a department store. Years later I would freelance for two major department stores in Los Angeles. I did that for ten years and as fate would have it the market for freelance illustration died overnight.  I always wanted to paint and the decision was made for me. From that day on I painted. I was fortunate to do what I had dreamed of. The journey has been a wonderful experience. 

Mother Nature has been my inspiration and mentor. When I first began painting I would go out every day and produce 5 or 6 small pieces, usually 6”x8” in size. Learning to see was and is my goal. The process of seeing is the same on a 6”x8” as a 16”x20”, the difference is one can cover a 6”x8” quicker. Learning to see takes time, it is a response to what is in front of us. At first I would want to include all that I saw. I would look at a scene and miss the concept of what I saw, I was too anxious to start and did not look at what was in front of me. In time I learned to listen to what nature tried to tell me. “Slow down and don’t just look at me without much thought. Paint not what you see but what you feel is in front of you”. I would see a certain light effect nature presented and paint it. The color looked right but did not feel right. At this point I would alter it until it felt right. If we merely copy what is in front of us we are not doing Mother Nature justice. Feel the color, the atmosphere, listen to what she tells you. If everything is painted well but is lacking feeling it will never be a true representation of nature. I have walked into many galleries and from a distance immediately attracted to a painting only to be disappointed when I come close to it. It had no soul. On the other hand I would see a painting I did not notice the first time around. The painting did not scream “look at me” it was a subtle poetic work of art.  

Often I paint with other artists and find myself settling on a scene someone else is excited about. As I paint I find myself going through the motion and eventually scraping what I painted. Why? Because it was not what I saw but what someone else saw. Paint what inspires you. Paint for yourself not for anyone else. We are influenced by our teacher. We see other artists whose work we like and are influenced by his or her work. This is only natural, we paint and grow and eventually we find our own handwriting and our own way of seeing. Our own statement. If we paint like our mentor or anyone else we admire we are only looking through their eyes, not ours. We will only be an imitation of someone else.  We should aspire to be as great (not copy) as Sargent, Sorolla, Monet, etc. Set your goal high. Keep growing as an artist and don’t settle.

Painting never becomes easier. Each painting is a new beginning and there is no formula. I paint and rely on my instincts. I begin with an idea but will make changes at anytime during the process, beginning or close to completion or even after completion. The goal is to create work that has merit. I paint outdoors and when I bring the painted panel into the studio to see what I have accomplished the first question is: did I do it justice? Did I capture the light, the atmosphere and does it have merit? The big question is: did I paint with feeling? The colors can be accurate but do they feel right? I rely on the feeling I walk away with much more than what is actually in front of me. Art is an emotional response to what we see but mostly what the artist feels. After all is said and done the feeling I bring in the painting is my goal.

I am attracted by the afternoon light. I may set out in the afternoon (earlier than I should) and drive around searching for a location only to find myself back where I began, by this time the light changed and the location is now subtle and harmonious. Sunsets as well are more subtle and quiet to my eyes. The last light is not easy to capture as it changes quickly. The “Golden Hour” as some describe it is just that. Everything is bathed in a warm glow. The greens have more orange, the mountains more red etc. The danger is it can be garish when painted, I personally find the last light more subtle, more harmonious, it speaks and does not scream. I have always thought of nature as gentle, yes it does have its harsh moments, but I fell in love with her gentleness.

OPA Signature Member, Art Gallery Painter, Award-Winning Artist, Sr. Illustrator in Animation and Gaming field, born in Guangzhou, China. Received his BFA degree from Guangzhou Academy of Fine Art one of the most prestigious fine arts schools in China, has lived in the United States since 1996. 

I have loved painting since childhood, and I wanted to be a professional painter when I was a teenager. My youth was the decade of China’s Cultural Revolution. There were no art teachers, and no art teaching books. I had to explore painting by myself and find some art loving students to draw and paint together. After graduating from high school, I was forced to work in rural areas immediately. I worked and painted in the countryside for two years.

After the Cultural Revolution ended in 1976, I returned to Guangzhou to study art and work. In 1984, I was admitted to Guangzhou Academy of Fine Arts, and then received four years of formal art education. After graduation, I stayed as a teaching assistant. Two years later, I moved to Australia and soon worked in Walt Disney TV animation studios in Sydney, responsible for the animation background production painting. Ten years later, by chance, I was recruited by Fox Animation Studios in the United States, so my family came to the United States to work and live for more than 20 years.

In the United States, in addition to working for animation film and television production studios and game production companies, I also spent a lot of time and energy continuing my oil painting. I participated in oil painting exhibitions of different fine art associations almost every year, especially those of the Oil Painters of America. In 2017, I was honored to become a Signature Member of the Oil Painters American association.

After decades of art career, I have been very clear about my own pursuit of fine art. Photo realism is definitely not my pursuit. What I like is a style similar to Impressionism, pursuing the great feeling of shape, color and stroke. I may even be influenced by some film and television animation art. Of course, my personal oil painting style also affects my painting process in film/TV animation and games, but I don’t know what kind of painting style I belong to. Let it go. I like outdoor landscape painting, but I prefer to figure paint at my studio. People on the beach, Western figures (cowboys, Native American Indians, horses) painting and ballet dancers are all my favorite painting themes. In each of my paintings, I pursue an outward expansion or inward contraction force and sense of movement, and use a variety of changeable composition and modeling. I use color and brush knife touch to achieve this effect.

For decades, I have always regarded oil painting as my other half and second career, which allows me to paint whatever I want without disturbing my basic living expenses. Although my first career is painting for movies, TV and games, I also enjoy the fun. In short, for me, painting is not only my work, but also my life hobby. Both are unified.

As artists, we always desire that our work stands out. One of the key ingredients in a painting is mark making, your individual way of applying the paint.  So why not help that process of unique mark making along and actually make a tool to use that no one else in the world will have? I have found that mini relief printing blocks (or I guess you could call them original rubber stamps) are a great help.

There are many repetitive patterns I have found myself painting, sometimes occurring on fabric or sometimes I just want the repetition to create a unified image. As I have worked on those pieces, I’ve pondered different ways to create those repeating shapes since my freehand painting leaves something to be desired in the area of accuracy and painting small shapes over and over can get tedious.  I tried stencils cut from card stock and thin cardboard but they didn’t hold up very long or clean up very well when using oil paint.

In college, and off and on through the years, I have enjoyed various types of printmaking, including linoleum block printing, which I finally decided to incorporate in a small way into my oil paintings. For a long time, I have used a chop (a small carved seal or impressed design) along with my signature on paintings, so it wasn’t much of a leap to add other impressed marks. When the painting idea calls for it I carve designs out of eraser-like soft blocks which cut almost like butter. From 1/4” to 3/8” thick, they come up to one-foot square and are available at online art suppliers. Linoleum cutting tools work well, although I usually just use an X-Acto knife. 

I can have an idea and literally in 20 minutes I can be holding the finished block, ready to use. The carved look of the stamp is also to my liking. Seeing the strokes of the carving tool is a little like seeing the strokes of paint; I enjoy having the process visible. *IMPORTANT TIP: if your design needs to face a certain way or it incorporates letters or numbers, draw it on tracing paper, flip it over and draw over it to transfer the pencil design to the carving block so you can carve it in reverse. I have learned this step the hard way! 

When I painted Round and Round, the model was wearing a coat from Uzbekistan with traditional embroidered designs. I had previously done a painting of a woman in the same coat and rendered it in a realistic way, so I decided to try doing it more abstractly this time and I thought the graphic designs on the coat would be a nice contrast with the realistically painted face. 

After selecting the spiral motifs and the small flowers to highlight, I carved the blocks. The spiral block ended up being 1 1/2” x 3”. Black oil paint was rolled onto my glass palette with a brayer (small roller used in printmaking) and the stamps pressed into the black. You could roll the paint directly on the stamp or apply it with a paint brush, just try to get an even coat. Then press it to the canvas. Press it again for a lighter mark or drag it like a brush. The large flower shapes I drew with a paint brush. The nice thing about stamps is that they can apply paint or if they are clean, they can lift it off, which I did on the right side where I had painted in the wet black background. I find it pleasing having the negative and positive of the same shape in an image.  I also pressed on one spiral in white above the black area. A day or two later, feeling that the black spirals were too dark, I lightly scumbled white paint over them.

Print in several colors, pick up, layer, smear – there are lots of possibilities. 

When you “ink” (with oil paint) the stamp and print into wet oil paint, like I did with Cowboy Star, you never know just how it will mix. That’s part of the fun of it. The stamp may lift off some paint already on the canvas while leaving some new color behind. I also painted just the edges on some of the stars to make an imprint of the outline.

The interesting silhouettes of miniature relief blocks are also helpful in creating texture on a background. There is a horse above the cowboy’s shoulder on the right and three chicken outlines in the left lower corner. No one else may have noticed those shapes in the background clutter, but I know they are there and it kept me entertained while I was doing it.

The big Anna’s Eighty-Eight butterfly stamp was used similarly in four colors to create background texture in Waiting for Little Brother. Some of them are only partial butterflies, just use what you want of it, like using the large flat side of a brush or the thin edge. The flower used in Daffodil was made for a different painting, one that didn’t work out, but then it was perfect to add a bit of structure to her dress.

The butterflies in Jackrabbit Nibbling have been used in several paintings, in different arrangements and numbers.

Once you have amassed a collection of your original stamping tools (and the scraps in weird shapes that are leftover), you can use them over and over just like your favorite brush, palette knife, squeegee, or paint scraper.  As you work on a new painting you may realize that you already have a little extra something in your bag of tricks to give it the perfect unique touch.