Someone moved the finish line!

Actually, there is no finish line, no line of demarcation that signals the end of the race, the end of the painting.  Woe is me.  We artists always sense that the finish is near but that is as far as it goes.  We always think that one more correction, one more interesting passage might just take the work to outstanding.  With watercolor, especially, one of the major fears is to take that work a step too far, creating murkiness and destroying the complex patterns of transparency that one has taken so much time and effort to create.  And yes, we all know that adding just one more passage can set up an entire series of needed changes in order to bring the rest of the work "up" to the change. Yes, woe is me.  I actually know of a very fine regional artist, an older gentleman, who is notorious for adding a stroke of two decades after the first ones were laid in.  That enables him to enter exhibits where there is an age limit on the work.  But I think that there is more than trickery at hand here.  Sometimes, we just don't know when the work is done....I try my best to take completion very seriously, as, more often than not, I am displeased when I take my hand to a work at a later date, with a completely different palette and a completely changed frame of mind and emotional status.  "Strings" hung on my wall for over a year and a half.  Nagging thoughts of violet entered my brain at every glance.  After the year's drying time, I procrastinated on the varnishing time and time again.....I suppose I was building up bravery.  A couple of weeks ago, I let 'er rip.  In a sudden decision I pulled the work down and applied the violet before my left brain had time to disagree.  These photos record the change.  I am completely satisfied. 

I believe that I have crossed the finish line..........not in record time however.

Live..a musician in mixed media

Live   Mixed/Paper   19.5 x 24

is the second result from an experiment using different materials and a very poorly-lit photograph of one of my favorite musicians taken during a live concert.  I was looking for a vague overall-feel with a great merging and graying of shapes.  (The first one didn't work out at all).  I used vine charcoal, water and a bit of watercolor on a large sheet of heavy watercolor paper.  I worked watercolor-style, from light to dark and tried to stay light-handed.  The shapes were difficult to understand in the darkness of the reference, so I had the job of interpretation.  I ended up with a very hazy gray picture with great mood but no punch.  Something needed to be done............the magenta gouache was added flatly at the end.

"Live" is a difficult and exciting way to perform...and to paint as well.

Critiques...

Rock Stah   oil/canvas   30 x 24 x .75

are part of the artist scenario.  Works are evaluated and commented upon by others with a like-minded and honed visual aesthetic.  Seeing is subjective.  And because it is so, we will never quite know if anyone else at all will see a work in exactly the same way in which the artist does.  And so, we put our creations up for other eyes to see and experience.  I always come home with some new ideas.....sometimes I utilize the suggestions.  Sometimes not.

First off, I really need to believe in the qualified "eye" of the beholder.  I need to feel that her critique is viable and honest.  Secondly, human nature being what it is, I need to feel that the critical offering is coming from a good honest place.  I need to trust the offering.  I need to trust the offerer.

I took "Rock Stah" to the last critique.  My work thrives on spontaneity and so I accept smaller indiscretions in order for stroke-making to remain supreme.  It is therefore very difficult to approach the work in a like manner at another session, which is true for many works created with larger brushes in a shorter timer period.  Among other suggestions that are not do-able, our able leader felt that the face needed more description.  Her work is extremely solid, extremely realistic.  I deliberately left the face under-described in my attempt to leave out the unnecessary.  She felt that as is, the face inhibited her enjoyment of the work.  I considered her opinion this past week and went into the face again for a bit more description.  I also took the advice of another respected artist and put some highlights on the guitar-playing fingers.  And, while I was at it, I decided that the flesh-like-pastel-orange background color just wouldn't do.  Most of the surface area was glazed with a transparent yellow, creating some wonderful greens on top of the blues, and making for a more electric feeling overall.

Critiques need to be considered in my opinion...follow up those suggestions that seem correct to you and let the others fall to the wayside.  No one else fully understands your intent.

Night Music

Night Music   oil/canvas   40 x 30 x 1.5

Here is that same wonderful triangle....head, hands, instrument....my favorite. In painting a figure, we artists are always tempted to spend too much time on the face. But I have learned, albeit reluctantly, that body parts must be subject to prioritization in order to tell your story, to pay honor to your focal point. A portrait is a portrait. A figure painting is something else entirely. It all gets very confusing when I try to sort out the important parts. In this session, the musician's knees were the closest parts to me. It follows then, that in order to render the illusion of 3 dimensions, the knees would be fully described. However, I wanted the knees to be supporting actors to the important triangle already mentioned. So I attempted to use the rhythm of the gesture of the legs to pull interest up into the hands/guitar area. Another way to accomplish this goal is to render the legs more flatly, heading into 2-dimensional flatness. I had to flatten them, while honoring the jutting forward of the kneecap. Trial and error. It is interesting to watch a dozen painters work from the same model. Each and every one is different. Each and every one tells a different story. Every model can become a metaphor for something deep within your soul. Priorities. Preferences. I really do try to identify my focal point before I set the brush to canvas. Knowing where you are going is a good thing. Remind me of that next time I am behind the wheel.

Groupie

Renaissance Man   watercolor   18 x 12.5

I am a music groupie of sorts................and love most kinds of music. It seems to me that musicians and visual artists alike trust their intuitions to make the music, the painting, their own. For me, playing the piano became the source of great stress. I just couldn't get over the performance anxiety and the feeling that I was continually being watched and judged. But I continued to admire those who played, those who went inside of themselves to interpret the music, to make it their own. Both art forms resist words. And so, along with paintings of those who labor, I have found that paintings of those who make music have always pleased me. I think I have painted dozens of musicians over the years. "Renaissance Man" is a painting done of my nephew George while he was still in high school and played the viola. Even then, the shapes of the figure merged with the background and rhythms took a higher priority than the figure itself. The triangle created by the musician's head (with intent gaze), the hands and the instrument is so important and symbolizes, to me, the going beyond the self, the letting in of the thing that makes one greater than the self. Head. Heart. Instrument.

Head:Hands:Heart

Oboe   oil/canvas   48 x 24

The triangle is a perfect compositional shape to me. That includes most musicians, who have a wonderfully intimate relationship with their instruments. Head...hands....tool. What could be better? As I profess to be a musician groupie anyways, painting them gives me great joy, perhaps the same kind of joy they feel when they are making music. "Oboe" was painted a few years back. At that time, my subject played the oboe at the high school level. She is currently taking a masters degree in the instrument. Her seriousness was early apparent. To me, she and her instrument share a common beauty.