Where to start? Well, actually painting would be a good place. It seems to be the root of all my answers. I can’t grow as an artist without being an artist and I can’t sell without an inventory. Over the course of the past couple of weeks I’ve produced 2 pieces, which is something of a production line for me. Admittedly they’re small (12” x 12”), but they have already taught me a lot. I took my inspiration from a fellow student painting under the relaxed tutelage of Craig Skinner. Her name is Diane and she has the ability to knock out a vibrant painting in a couple of hours. In December 2008 I decided to emulate this and to my surprise a painting emerged almost by itself in about two and a half hours. Up to this point I had been pretty finicky and I really, like really, enjoyed the freedom. Here’s the piece:
Ruiter Brook Falls
Oil on Canvas 2008
Since then I slipped back into finicky territory and, at one point, worried over a panting for weeks (ironically also a 12” x 12”). Craig helped me rescue it and now I think I actually like it, even though it carries powerful reminders of some frustrating hours at the easel.
Then in September of this year I set my self a goal of completing four paintings by year’s end. No mean feat as I generally only paint once a week at Craig’s. So I set up an easel in front of the TV and spent my evenings painting. Here’s lesson #1 for me: if I’m spreading my attention between painting, chatting and Law & Order SVU I don’t really get the desired finished result on canvas….but it does work as a way to get pieces started while not leaving an art widow behind. Fast forward to early December and I still have two paintings to go to reach my goal. I realize that I have to repeat my “Ruiter Brook Falls” performance of the previous year. Deep down I was worried that it was fluke. A painting in two and a bit hours? Here goes…
Esther Trail
Oil on Canvas 2009
I think I was a little dazed from the frenetic pace by the end of the evening and I realized I had a ways to go before I could be really comfortable with this method. To some extent I was still finnicking (is that a word?), only faster. I had worked and reworked certain areas and didn’t spend enough time detaching myself from the piece to appreciate the overall effect I was creating. As a learning experience it was hugely valuable.
A week passes and the easel never gets set up in front of the TV. It’s Craig’s last lesson of the year and I show up late. I have less than two hours to produce painting or be left to the mercies of finding time to finish it. So I attack the canvas like never before, blocking in colour and working feverishly to cover the thing in paint. That done, I go back over the areas that need definition. I purposely make colour choices that are simple and bold. The less time I faff with raw sienna and Payne’s grey, the more time I can spend painting. All of a sudden it’s an hour and 45 minutes later. I’ve pretty much ignored my fellow students and I have no concept of any time passing. I’m almost out of breath from the pace, but I got to spend some quality time in “the zone” and I have a painting. A painting I like.
Ruiter Valley
Oil on Canvas 2009
Why am I obsessed with speed? The art I most admire oozes confidence, spontaneity and life. I’m not a huge fan of ultra-realistic, photographic art (but I do appreciate the technical skills required to create it). Speed will help me eliminate worrying a piece to death. It will force me into making better colour choices up front and sketching out my layout to give me a better idea of the end goal. It will generate more paintings with reduced frustration (hopefully). The end products will (should) be bolder, more engaging, more recognizable as one of mine. I won’t be going all-out all the time – from time to time I will want to spend some time over a piece, but the increase in art mileage will better equip me to produce some quality work.
No comments:
Post a Comment