Linda,

It has become one of my favorites as well. It brings to mind the advice about not being concerned with "time spent" on your project. Some aspects of this painting must have taken a goodly while to execute. Well worth whatever time when you consider ...

Enzie,

I've never really done much study of art history. Thanks to all the resources on the web you can pretty much create your own study program. I think the more you stare at these really good works of art the more the principles of design sink in. It certainly couldn't hurt.

Also, without a lot of academic training, you tend to stumble upon things over long periods of time which you suspect are good, true and beneficial. The more exposure you are able to get to the really good stuff gives you more opportunities validate your suspicions, or not. You begin to formulate and refine your "template" of what is valuable, not so valuable, and what is down right essential. I am particularly stubborn about accepting what I hear to be "absolutely essential," especially when my path has indicated something different. This stubbornness will sometimes work in my favor, sometimes not.

The study of art has revealed many things to me about myself and the way I take in information. Also, how my ways can differ from others and still be valid. I wish I'd understood some of these principles when I was younger, I'm sure I could have been more effective in many ways, and in many other aspects of my life.

Sir Frank Dicksee - The Mirror
37x46 1896

Further, regarding Sir Frank Dicksee ... Even below in his obituary do we see some of the prevailing prejudices of the times. The writer gives, then takes back: "All these things which are symbols to conjure with are painted solidly but prosaically; the poetry is in the subject, not the execution. And that is why this kind of art looks old-fashioned now; for only poetry in execution keeps art fresh."

***********

Sir Frank Dicksee PRA.
Obituary in the Times Thursday October 18th 1928.

Sir Frank Dicksee PRA, whose death is announced on another page, came of an artistic family - his father being Thomas Francis Dicksee [1819-1895], who illustrated Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott [1771-1832], and his uncle John Robert Dicksee [1817-1905], animal painter. His professional career was thus made smooth for him in a way which was reflected in his work.

Born in London on November 27 1853, he was trained at the Royal Academy Schools, where he won gold and silver medals, and exhibited his first picture in 1876. Coming to maturity at a time when the very word 'art' was synonymous with romantic and sentimental illustration, and the thing so understood more popular than ever before or since, he was by nature and temperament born to enjoy the popularity; and he enjoyed it without a trace of affectation or the least violation of his artistic conscience. If ever the words 'born in due season,' were true of any man they were true of him. He succeeded not because he did what people wanted, but because people wanted what he unconsciously did; and how genuine was the relation between what people demanded and what he and his contemporaries, though none more sympathetically than he supplied, there is Melbury Road to show.

We may question if the thing demanded and supplied was the best thing for the welfare of English art, but the evidence - material in the prosperity of artists of the period, and the moral in the conversation of the drawing rooms, faithfully recorded in the pages of Punch of a 'natural' working of the famous law, is not to be ignored. For the first time since the 18th century, and for about 20 years art flourished in England. In personal manner Dicksee may be said to have represented a softening of the pre-Raphaelite movement which initiated the period of prosperity, and there can no doubt he owed his popularity partly to the softening. He was without the queerness of the original group and their eldest disciples, a more comfortable painter for the home. In execution he made an artistic virtue of prettiness.

Dicksee was, in short, the chief representative of the older kind of academic artist, whose aim was to express certain common sentiments in a convincing pictorial form. He early achieved success with the picture Harmony, which was bought for the Tate Gallery. In that picture we can see all his art, which remained the same to the end, and he had a work of the same character in the Academy of 1921, it was skilfully and thoroughly executed, and its aim was to arouse a certain kind of feeling, which no doubt he himself shared, rather than express any interest in the visible world. This he achieved very skilfully by the use of certain symbols. A young woman plays an organ with extreme sensibility in a sunset light, and a young man with still more sensibility listens to her. All these things which are symbols to conjure with are painted solidly but prosaically; the poetry is in the subject, not the execution. And that is why this kind of art looks old-fashioned now; for only poetry in execution keeps art fresh.

But Dicksee having found his way continued in it; he was not, like so many artists of the same kind, content to presume on the success, and to paint carelessly where once he had painted carefully. He always did his best to the end; and thus he was able once or twice to do skilful nudes, such as Girls Bathing, which because of its skill, and without sentiment, is less old-fashioned than his more popular pictures. He was a most conscientious portrait painter. In later years he became less popular than worse painters who parodied a more fashionable kind of art, who deserve sharp criticism and much more, for the kind of art he practices he did at least need skill and could not pretend that mere incompetence was dashing.

Sir Frank Dicksee:

Harmony 1877
The Offering
Portrait of Elsa 22x17

This sentence, from the article in the Times, is so true and something we should draw learning from.
Dicksee was, no doubt, a skilled painter, but his paintings lacked energy and painterly drama, compared to Sargent ( who don,t? ).

Everything is neat and correct but has no energy, or the energy has no direction, the persons just sit there and express nothing but boredom. There is more painterly drama in the patterns on the wall than in the persons.

Only trying to draw some learning :exclamati

I have done the same and just spend just about every evening reading through art books and making notations, instead of watching TV. Book collectors must hate my desecration of these beautiful volumes!

Allan, I agree with your comments as well. Giving the figures that extra "umph" or "energy" takes skill by itself. I am always fascinated to see how some artists can take ordinary looking people and create stunning portraits.

All I have saved this under is Baro, I don't remember if this is the artist or the title.
The 2nd painting is by Carlos Abascal "Profile of Arab"

Anatomy of a Masterpiece (excerpt out of "The Orientalists"by Kristian Davies- available through Amazon.com )

Pilgrims going to Mecca by L

This image is so powerful because of its genius of lighting. The group is back lit, casting shadows towards the viewer. From this perspective most of the caravan is actually in darkness.

The author points out to recall the sensation you get when staring at something with the sun in your eyes. Your vision becomes disorienting and yet entrancing, hiding what you are looking at and illuminating it at the same time. The genius of this painting makes use of this principal. Belly understood what Vermeer understood: that light is everything-light direction, light diffusion, the hour of the day, the condition of the sky. It is how light treats and manipulates, deceives and confuses, focuses on or disorients, attracts and flatters whatever it shines on that determines what color the eye believes it sees.

From a letter of artist Eug

Enzie,

Those are beautiful paintings. I

[QUOTE=Mike McCarty]
Wouldn

Mike wrote:
[QUOTE]Wouldn

Mike,
I'd bet that the one eyed fat man said it with passion and conviction.!!! ....see it's the execution that makes it art. :)

Allan,

You are right, John Wayne, as Rooster Cogburn in "True Grit," said it with so much passion and conviction that it got him an academy award. Robert Duvall as Ned Pepper has also won an academy award for "Tender Mercies." He's also the one that said: "I love the smell of Napalm in the morning" in the movie "Apocolypse Now."

I believe, as Ned Pepper came to realize, that you should never come between a man and his passionately held convictions. Unless of course there's a woman involved then all bets are off.

I like these compositions:

The first is presumably a Russian painter. I found it among the ones that SB posted, but couldn't find a name to associate with it. I like the subtle offsets in the pose, like the cocked head and just the suggestion of the right hand which breaks up the line of the right side.

The second is by Arthur Hughes - A music party, 1864. This is a clever four person composition, I think.

The third is from Leon Perrault,1832-1908 - The flower vendor. A pleasant head and shoulder with some tricky hand work.

This last one is more for the interesting nature of the scene. Maybe scenes like this are played out now somewhere, but I've never seen one ... have you? I think the two guys sword fighting are using paint brushes and have palettes and mahl sticks in the other hand. This is the way combat should be.

Actually, I think they are using swords. Looks like some kind of battle scene is being reinacted for a painting.

Horace Vernet, The Artists Studio, 20x25, 1820.

You can get a better look here:
http://www.artrenewal.org/asp/databa...e.asp?id=27956

I found out this is a piece by Yaroshenko, who incidentally did some of the famous pieces found on this website.
http://www3.nccu.edu.tw/~mfchen/pain...yaroshenka.htm

Thanks for that information Marcus.

*****

Thanks to Enzie for posting that fabulous J.S. Sargent going up for auction at the end of this month. Below is an excerpt from her post regarding some of the history of the painting and in particular a comparison to Boldini. I've posted one of Boldini's portraits here along side of this Sargent portrait for the comparison which the author suggests.

I had pulled out this Boldini painting prior to Enzie's post but could not find the right words to describe the feeling that it stirred. I think this excerpt articulates very well what I could not:

"In part due to his "instinctive refinement," Sargent became the most sought-after portraitist of his age. In 1902, Charles Caffin wrote in American Masters of Painting comparing Sargent's work to his well-known contemporary Giovanni Boldini, "It would be quite impossible for him to have any feelings toward his [Sargent's] subjects other than those of a true gentleman; and, though he may represent in a lady a full flavour of the modern spirit, he never allows the modernity to exceed the limits of good taste. For the same reason Sargent's pictures, though many of them have a restlessness of their own, seem quiet alongside Boldini's. The latter makes a motive of nervous tenuosity, and his pictures, if seen frequently, become wiry in suggestion, and defeat their own purpose of being vibrative; but Sargent's, controlled by a fine sobriety of feeling, another phase of his unfailing taste and tact, retain their suppleness. Their actuality is all the more convincing because it is not the motive, but an incident." (as quoted in G.A. Reynolds, "Sargent's Late Portraits," John Singer Sargent, New York, 1986, p. 176)"

J. S. Sargent - Mildred Carter, 40x30
Giovanni Boldini - Consuelo Marlborough and Son

Love that this has cropped up (no pun here), as a friend and I have had a running Boldini vs. Sargent argument going on over beers for a while now, in part because here in NC, Biltmore Mansion has portraits of the Vanderbilt family by both artists.

Sargent is timeless, while Boldini is already nothing but a vapor.

Or in reference to Boldini, might I also suggest the shopworn but still serviceable term, "creepy" ?

So there.

Certainly "flamboyant" comes to mind.

Here are a few compositions by the Italian Renaissance painter, frescoist, sculptor, architect, poet & archaeologist, Raphael 1483 - 1520.

I don't know how a fella gets all that done in just thirty seven years. At thirty seven I was still trying to master the ham and cheese omlette. I don't know much about his poetry or his archaeology, but he certainly had a body of work in his paintings.

Joanna of Aragon
Bindo Altoviti 23x17
Saint Michael and the Dragon 4 3/4" x 4 1/2"

And finally - Raphael experiencing a "time out."

Here are the paintings of John Waterhouse, 1849-1917.

From his Obituary:

"Mr Waterhouse was an eclectic painter. He painted Pre-Raphaelite pictures in a more modern manner. He was in fact a kind of academic Burne-Jones [1833-1898], like him in his types and moods, but with less insistence on design and more on atmosphere. His art was always agreeable, for he had taste and learning as well as considerable accomplishments; he was one of those painters whose pictures always seem to suggest that he must have done better in some other work. This means that he never quite

And a couple more for the heck of it ...

This first is obviously not the full composition. I would sure like to see the full image, this slice sure looks interesting.

The Magic Circle 72x50
Windswept 45x31

Mike,
I think that Waterhouse's strength is his sense of decorative composition. He lived in the period when Art Nouveau was popular and I guess that was his luck. The persons are types, all young and beautiful, a sort of idealized, without too much personal character.

I think you're right about that Allan.

I still don't understand why they had to say such things in a man's obituary. In all my years I've seen a lot of good, bad and ugly people die, I've listened to many lives explained, and I don't remember hearing such harshness spoken in print after a person's death. When you're alive then all is fair game, but it just seems like a small thing to show a man's life work some respect on the occasion of his death.

Mike,
Maybe it was jealousy. If one is popular in his own time he will experience both pro's and contra's. His supporters would buy his art as long as he lived even though new trends had taken over. The critics would be frustrated and forget the good manners.
One of our own fine artists, Kr

Here is "El Jaleo" by John Singer Sargent, 1882, 93" x 138"
With various studies of the same.

Mike--

Leapfrogging backward, thanks for the Waterhouses (Waterhice?) (Waterhai?). He's always been a favorite though I disagree a little, respectfully, with Allan. For me, JWH's people are part of the style of the day, but a little less anonymous and stylistically codified than some of the other academic contemporaries like Alma-Tadema and Rosetti, et. al. Waterhouse's subjects look more like individuals to me, and less like types.

I can't quite find the words, but when I look at Waterhouse, I see a little looser approach to the technique, and a spirit that--for lack of a better term--I can only call "soul." He seems a little less constrained by the academic approach.

This is a really vague critique, I know.

As for "El Jaleo," well, Jeez, you gotta think Sargent tossed it off to needle every painter that would ever follow.

Thanks--TE

Someone please explain why the lady in red in the back row. Why do you think he chose such a saturated red, rather then toning it down?
You think it has a purpose, if so what?

I love to see the sketches that precede the painting. It is always great to see how arrangements get changed to better a composition. Too bad there are not many color studies left behind.

Trying to get as good a look as possible I've split the painting into left and right side. This painting, by the way, is located at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, Ma.

Enzie,

I can only hazard a guess ... The bright red color seems like a reasonable choice in this theme, but I too puzzle as to why he chose to split the red image on the edge of the canvas. Maybe he thought the shot of color was necessary and felt that if he'd brought it into the body of the composition it may have drawn attention away from the dancer. I suppose that whatever he decided to do, by definition, becomes the right thing to do.

I thought the guy with his head tilted back was passed out drunk, but then I read that he was just shouting an "olay!" of sorts. Either one works for me.

When I view this painting my eye travels in the fashion I've indicated below. There is a strong slanting cross tha dominates the canvas and then more subtle clues to draw and coax your eye around the painting. I, too, can not express the reason why he chose such a strong color for the dress although I believe I understand why the figure is split off, to show the whole danceer would give it too much importance and stagnate that part of the painting. I like to think the strong color helps draw the eye but the cut off dancer lets the eye pass.

I enjoy exploring the compositional themes here and I thank you, Mike, for all you have contributed.

Thank you John, I have a large debt to repay.

Here's the Sitwell family by Sargent, also giving that burst of red.

And, a painting entitled "Spanish Dancer" by Sargent, and dated 1880-81, a couple of years prior to "El Jaleo." It seems that Sargent had been working up to this "El Jaleo" for some time.

And a couple more random paintings by Sargent:

1- Head of Ana, 9x10
2- Reconnoitering, 1911, 22x28.

There is a particularly good image of this painting at the ARC website here:

http://www.artrenewal.org/asp/databa...e.asp?id=27578

This is like a landscape double fudge sunday.

Speaking of the color red in painting, I just ran across this last night. Be sure to scroll down and read the editorial reviews.

A Perfect Red: Empire, Espionage, and the Quest for the Color of Desire

Cynthia,

I've always heard that it was the color purple, or aubergine, that was terribly rare and reserved for kings. Although, this may have been even further back in time.

Here are two more of Sargent's paintings that throw that splash of red into the periphery.

Rehearsal of the Pas de Loup Orchestra
Venetian Wine Shop 1898, 21x27

And this, painted just a few years after El Jaleo, by Wm. Bouguereau. These kids just slay me.

Une Vocation, 1890, 22x18

I don't know, the red in the Spanish Dancer painting just seems out of place to me, especially since the color is only somewhat repeated in the apple on the chair. Maybe it is meant to symbolize something or it's just there because he felt like it?!

On the other hand the painting of the Sitwel family, the red even though dominant, does get repeated several times throughout the painting, making it feel less out of sorts. The same holds true for the interior scene, where hints of the color can be found on the opposite wall.

Thank you everyone for your opinion!

I believe that both the red dress at the edge and the less saturated apple(?) in the chair are deliberate compositional devices. As to the exact reasoning and placement, mine would just be a shot in the dim light. However, to extend my guess, I would say that were Sargent here to explain we would hear a definite reasoning for every gram.

Here's a guy, Sargent, who at the time of this painting that follows, could have painted anything and anyone, and yet he felt the need to paint this - a torn down sugar refinery. I would be fascinated to know what compelled him to draw down on this subject.

And an interesting composition with very rich color and texture.

1- A wrecked sugar refinery, w/c 1918, 28x22
2- Val d-Aosta man fishing, oil 1907, 22x28

Composition is merely the placing of objects of various forms and colors in a pleasing way. Each viewer becomes a judge in their own experience.

Over time we try to learn from those before us. One way to study is to make a list and compartmentalize the different types.

Over time it would be easy to teach composition to others seeking knowledge by going through an organized chart of some kind. By this method a student might consider these examples the complete list of different types of composition.

This is natural and is not a bad thing. It is what it is.

But once in a while someone comes along and creates a new twist. Some will accept it and some won't. After all it is a personal choice and as someone once said "you can't please all of the people all of the time".

My personality is a strong desire to start something new and abandon the old. I struggle with this at the end of my paintings. But because of this I find it easier to accept the contrary and even relish in it.

I find the red dress a wonderful and exciting way to drag the viewer to the right edge of the canvas and the severe cropping of the dancer effectively stops the eye and allows it back into the canvas. My wish is that he did this on purpose because I'm a huge fan and it just makes him even better in my mind.

I'm not familiar with the last two paintings and I will study the first one more thoroughly. The Fishermen's composition is obvious on first sight.

I see composition as not being a personal preference, but more of a human preference. There is a balance which presents it's self to the human brain, a balance of shapes, intensities, and their relationships to each other and to the edge of the canvas.

It can get subjective around the edges (not literal edge), but in the mainstream I believe that most people will agree with what is, and what is not - in balance. Most people, however, would never be able to articulate the variances which bring a composition into a harmonic balance.

If I presented the two images below to a wide selection of people I think most would see that the first is out of balance with the edge of the canvas. The second is at least getting better. A small percentage would disagree but they would also enjoy potted meat.

I see good composition as being in harmony, and in balance with the way most humans view the natural world, a kind of Feng shui. Bad composition just gets under your skin and irritates.

Mike,

You put it much better. Thank you.

The first image I find compelling and almost mysterious. The second more pleasing.

I guess I do like potted meat, whatever that means. I would probably prefer that to MacDonalds.

An odd segue re RED
 

Red

Mary O

Shakespeare's
Twelfth Night

Clown - Let her hang me: he that is well hanged
in this world needs to fear no colours.

I'm no Golden Ratio expert, but it would be interesting to see how El Jaleo holds up to that.

Good idea. I should have brought this up long before now.

I don't have time at the moment to illustrate the golden mean, but my rough estimate for "El Jaleo" puts it at approximately the highlight of the guitar being played on the right in the left half of the painting.

If you apply the golden mean to the two photographs I posted above the second one's golden mean is the inside corner of her left eye, the first is in the area of her temple.

Golden Mean = horizontal divided by 2.62, vertical divided by 2.62. With lines drawn representing these numbers, their intersection would be the golden mean.

I'll have time to confirm these measurements a little later, unless someone beats me to it.