Portrait Artist Forum - View Single Post - A quickie lesson in layering warm and cool paint

Steven Sweeney · 01-20-2002, 08:47 PM

I was born with an underdeveloped conflict gene, so my impulse was to say "Oops, excuse me", back out of this thread, and quietly close the door behind me.

But the subject matter intrigues me and I think there's likely some arbitrable common ground, however slight the overlap may be.

Because I came to the practice of art pretty late in life (mid-40s) and I didn't have 20 or 30 years (or the patience) to slowly acquire through trial and error the myriad techniques and tips for satisfying, professional work, I spent some years in intensive study with professionals whose work I admired. After putting in between 4 and 5 thousand hours in that effort (drawing and painting 40 to 50 hours per week for three years), I got pretty good at representing on the paper or canvas what was in front of me.

And yet, I still can get completely flummoxed by what is "wrong" with a piece that just won't come around. I suddenly feel like a rank beginner again. I look and I look and I look, I measure, and I know something's not on, but I can't spot it. That's one of the times when the "formulas" become useful to me, as places to start in analyzing problems.

If I have confidence in my drawing and I think the problem with form might be related to color, then yes, absolutely, I will enlist a "formula" -- to TEST my work. I might say, okay, I have a quite warm light source, and so as a rule I would expect to see relatively cool shadows. I look at the subject anew to see if that expectation is borne out. If not, then I simply proceed to another step in the analysis. But if indeed with a new focus I discover cool violets and greens in the shadows, and then look to find reds and oranges in those areas of my painting, I don't ever say, well I can't change it, because then I'd be painting to a formula. I say "Eureka! That's it! How could I have missed it?" (And in fact, part of my analysis will be to try to determine why I put the reds and oranges there in the first place.)

No less a contemporary master than Daniel Greene makes "formulaic" assumptions about the location of features on the face. He gets stuck into a drawing very quickly, and the eyes aren't where the eyebrows should be and the mouth isn't rubbing elbows with the nose. But he ALWAYS TESTS those assumptions against the actual subject, which controls. The assumptions remain valid and useful, even if they may not in a particular instance have resulted in an accurate representation and have had to be modified.

Another award-winning master, Peggy Baumgartner, kind of employs an assumption after the fact in the initial portrait sketch: if her eye tells her that something is "off" but three measurements confirm that the drawing is correct, she accepts the measurements and not what her eye is "telling" her. Yet could anyone look at Baumgartner's work and say that she was painting to a formula and not her unique perception? Hardly.

I have an expectation that the tannin-hued sands on the bank of a particular river can be captured by various proportions of ultramarine, cadmium orange, and white. That's a formula, and most of the time it's useful. Of course it doesn't excuse me from making a judgment as to whether the expectation provides accurate readings on a particular bend in that river on a particular day.

Richard Schmid, much of whose work is heartrendingly beautiful, expresses disdain for certain mechanical and formulaic tools and approaches. He says he "feels sorry" for those who employ them. With all respect to Schmid, whose palette I'm not worthy to clean at the end of the day, people don't need such pity or deserve such contempt. I'm just doing the best work I can do, using every resource at my disposal, trying to excel at and enjoy my artistic vocation.

I suspect that what most folks addressing this matter are concerned about is what Harry Chapin sang about, the soul-killing straitjacket of "flowers are red and green grass is green, there's no need to see flowers any other way than the way they always have been seen."

I don't believe anyone here has suggested any sort of regimen or rule like that.

Of course, sometime flowers are red, and green grass is green.

Steven

01-20-2002, 08:47 PM	#3
Steven Sweeney Juried Member PT 5+ years Joined: Nov 2001 Location: Stillwater, MN Posts: 1,801	I was born with an underdeveloped conflict gene, so my impulse was to say "Oops, excuse me", back out of this thread, and quietly close the door behind me. But the subject matter intrigues me and I think there's likely some arbitrable common ground, however slight the overlap may be. Because I came to the practice of art pretty late in life (mid-40s) and I didn't have 20 or 30 years (or the patience) to slowly acquire through trial and error the myriad techniques and tips for satisfying, professional work, I spent some years in intensive study with professionals whose work I admired. After putting in between 4 and 5 thousand hours in that effort (drawing and painting 40 to 50 hours per week for three years), I got pretty good at representing on the paper or canvas what was in front of me. And yet, I still can get completely flummoxed by what is "wrong" with a piece that just won't come around. I suddenly feel like a rank beginner again. I look and I look and I look, I measure, and I know something's not on, but I can't spot it. That's one of the times when the "formulas" become useful to me, as places to start in analyzing problems. If I have confidence in my drawing and I think the problem with form might be related to color, then yes, absolutely, I will enlist a "formula" -- to TEST my work. I might say, okay, I have a quite warm light source, and so as a rule I would expect to see relatively cool shadows. I look at the subject anew to see if that expectation is borne out. If not, then I simply proceed to another step in the analysis. But if indeed with a new focus I discover cool violets and greens in the shadows, and then look to find reds and oranges in those areas of my painting, I don't ever say, well I can't change it, because then I'd be painting to a formula. I say "Eureka! That's it! How could I have missed it?" (And in fact, part of my analysis will be to try to determine why I put the reds and oranges there in the first place.) No less a contemporary master than Daniel Greene makes "formulaic" assumptions about the location of features on the face. He gets stuck into a drawing very quickly, and the eyes aren't where the eyebrows should be and the mouth isn't rubbing elbows with the nose. But he ALWAYS TESTS those assumptions against the actual subject, which controls. The assumptions remain valid and useful, even if they may not in a particular instance have resulted in an accurate representation and have had to be modified. Another award-winning master, Peggy Baumgartner, kind of employs an assumption after the fact in the initial portrait sketch: if her eye tells her that something is "off" but three measurements confirm that the drawing is correct, she accepts the measurements and not what her eye is "telling" her. Yet could anyone look at Baumgartner's work and say that she was painting to a formula and not her unique perception? Hardly. I have an expectation that the tannin-hued sands on the bank of a particular river can be captured by various proportions of ultramarine, cadmium orange, and white. That's a formula, and most of the time it's useful. Of course it doesn't excuse me from making a judgment as to whether the expectation provides accurate readings on a particular bend in that river on a particular day. Richard Schmid, much of whose work is heartrendingly beautiful, expresses disdain for certain mechanical and formulaic tools and approaches. He says he "feels sorry" for those who employ them. With all respect to Schmid, whose palette I'm not worthy to clean at the end of the day, people don't need such pity or deserve such contempt. I'm just doing the best work I can do, using every resource at my disposal, trying to excel at and enjoy my artistic vocation. I suspect that what most folks addressing this matter are concerned about is what Harry Chapin sang about, the soul-killing straitjacket of "flowers are red and green grass is green, there's no need to see flowers any other way than the way they always have been seen." I don't believe anyone here has suggested any sort of regimen or rule like that. Of course, sometime flowers are red, and green grass is green. Steven __________________ Steven Sweeney [email protected] "You must be present to win."