Tangent

This deviates a bit from painting, but then so do I. These are a few photos from a sculpture class I took two years ago. One of the best things I ever did to help my painting was to take sculpture. I had the opportunity to do both figure modeling and portraiture. The figure class was particularly intensive and required a great amount of anatomical study as homework - drawing plates from anatomy books.

I'd like to say I remember everything I learned, but it never seems to work that way. Still, any time I paint a figure or a portrait now, I'm always envisioning pushing and pulling the paint forward and back in space on the canvas as I sculpt my way around the form. For me, I think the right mental imagery makes all the difference.

Decisions

self portrait, 20" x 16", oil on panel (in progress)

It took me a few days to decide how I wanted to proceed. Should I do a detailed underpainting using Venetian Red? Should I use Lead White for lighter values or use turpentine to reveal white from beneath the imprimatura? Both of these normally begin an indirect painting process where the paint is applied in translucent layers, allowing the values of the underpainting to remain visible. The opposite would be to begin painting opaquely in which case an underpainting wouldn't provide much utility. For the most part, there is very little going on in this painting other than the face. Underpainting the face might be useful, but everything else I think I can manage during the glazing process.

I just began by thinning a mixture of Ultramarine Blue and Burnt Sienna with turpentine and filling in my shirt and hat. These two pigments mix to black. (Why not use black out of the tube? Maybe I'll write about that another time. I suppose I could have layered each color separately and mixed them optically though.) Then I filled in most of the background with a Dioxazine Violet. Normally, I mix violet. In fact, I've never used this pigment before, but it was just sitting there on my bench and I thought I'd give it a try.

I will go over both these areas again to darken parts of them even further. One of the old school painting rules is to keep darks thin. I believe part of this is just conservation of paint as you don't really need many thin layers of a dark color for it to appear solidly dark. Lights that need a value higher than the underpainting, imprimatura or toned ground, will likely be opaque out of necessity. If you have a value established by an underpainting though, you can just apply a thin glaze.

I still have a few more darks to apply and I haven't decided how to approach the face yet. To those painters that don't struggle deciding which path to take, my hat's off to you.

Probity

self portrait, 20" x 16", oil on panel (in progress)

Ingres said "drawing is the probity of art" (probity means integrity and uprightness; honesty -- yes, I had to look it up). Having allowed the imprimatura to dry, I laid down a small grid and drew the basis for my painting in charcoal. Why the grid? It helped me to quickly transfer my reference image to the panel. This can be accomplished by a number of different methods and this one is hardly my invention (or anyone else's living in the last few centuries). Because of the organic nature of charcoal, drawings such as this can still be detected under layers of paint (when not simply visible) in some masters' paintings... even more fascinating when it doesn't match the final image.

My reference is a digital photo with a grid overlay. Durer used a contraption that would present a grid over whatever he was viewing. This brings up the occaisionally heated topic of painting from photos which I intend to sidestep for the moment. What I really want to convey here is the part of the process where you try to establish a foundation. Ingres is talking about much more in his quote, but I'm choosing to apply it narrowly here. At this stage it's much easier to fix problems in layout and proportion. Case in point, notice the mouth... I originally placed it too high despite using a grid to "cheat." A little bit of effort now can save a lot of time and frustration later. This won't be the last time drawing comes into play however in the course of this painting.

Diversion

self portrait, 20" x 16", oil on panel (in progress)

This is the start of a new painting - a self portrait. I've begun with a Venetian Red imprimatura on a white ground. The Venetian Red, which is essentially rust in linseed oil, was thinned using turpentine, painted thinly over the white ground panel, and then wiped off (that's the imprimatura). There are a few reasons for this, but most foremost it will give the painting a unifying warmth and provide a mid tone from which to begin drawing. This method is very Italian.

I think it looks a little dark, but I understand that a mid to dark tone was commonly used for paintings that intended to employ chiaroscuro, so I suppose it all works out. Chiaroscuro refers to the dramatic effect of light coming out of darkness (think Rembrandt). I was actually trying not to use too much turp in thinning the paint, because if the paint is thinned too much it's not structurally sound.

Meandering

untitled, 34" x 21", oil on panel (in progress)

Last summer, I stood on a cliff overlooking a lock and damn on the Mississippi and thought "I should paint this." Almost one year later, I'm not even close to finishing. As this has been my only "active" painting, the question that immediately springs to mind is "What is taking so long!?!" I wish I had a good answer for that... which is to say, I wish I had an answer I liked, because the truth of the matter is I think I'm just lazy.

I could produce an itemized list of excuses, but when it comes down to it, a painting such as this should not require a year (or more at this rate) to complete. It's not that I don't think about it. I think of it constantly. However, as my mentor has pointed out to me repeatedly, "That's not painting." If only it were. I'd be surrounded by paintings.

I had this same difficultly in college. The number of paintings I "completed" in comparison to the students around me, was paltry. The ironic thing is that I have this idea in my head that I want to be a painter. How exactly does one become a painter without painting?

Whining aside, it's my hope that somehow this blog will motivate me to paint more in order to have something to discuss. Will it work? (cue cliche) Only time will tell.