Visual Cues Create Interest

A Painting With Several
Visual Cues (copyright 2010)

One way to keep your viewers interested in your painting is to give them something to look at. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

So why do so many paintings fail to keep the viewers' interest? A boring motif is the obvious answer, one with little contrast or emotion.

But you also need to have visual cues. What do I mean by that?

In addition to a focal point, you should have counterpoints that move the eye around or bounce it back and forth across your work.

You need to lead the viewer into the painting. Usually this is some element that gives entry or points the way into the painting, like a road or a shadow or an object of some sort. Most often a viewer enters a painting from the lower left or lower right but not always.

You need depth--a foreground, a mid-ground, and a background. Otherwise the viewer is stuck in a static plane unless that's what you intend.

Depending on your subject, you will have perspective and/or a viewpoint to not only let viewers know where the picture plane is but also to orient them.

If there is an animate object in the painting, a person or animal or other creature, there will often be an eye-line. This means that the person or animal is looking in a direction such that the viewer is compelled to look in that same direction.

These are just a few basic ways to keep you and your viewers from being bored to death by your painting.

Keep On Painting

The Way I Imagine

I Imagine 

Painters, perhaps more than most, need a new start, a new beginning, a new outlook.

Today is that day. 

Today I will begin painting watercolors the way I imagine.

I will take time not only to understand but also to internalize the steps to create paintings the way I imagine.

Remember, the end result of the painting is art, but the rendering of it is craft.

So I will take time to control each step and nurture that craft to paint the way I imagine.

I will imagine the best motif, the best composition, the best underpainting, the best color palette, the best washes, the best values--in short, the best painting imaginable.

After I imagine the best, I will not give up or give in or otherwise tolerate failure unless and until I paint the way I imagine.

And imagine, if I can do it, so can you.

Keep On Painting 

The Main Focus of Your Painting

There are many ways to lead your viewer into and around your painting. Today I’m blogging about a subtle way some contemporary watercolorists choose to do it. This can apply to other mediums as well, but I have particularly noticed it with watercolor, probably because of its very nature.

All artists know the focal point is, of course, that thing or area in your painting to which the viewer's eye is natually drawn. It is usually obvious what and where the focal point is based on its contrast in value, color, or maybe placement.

It all has to do with focus, as in the focal point in your composition, and there should be only one. Everything else should support it by moving the eye around the painting and providing counter-balance.  

However, if the focal point is too obvious, it's as if a big finger were pointing right at it so there could be no mistaking. So what is the subtle way some watercolorists have of focusing the viewer’s attention? It’s simply by painting the focal point in sharp focus or relatively sharp focus compared to other areas.

If done correctly, your eye will naturally go to the area with sharper contrast of line or color, and then move around to areas that are in less focus. It’s also effective in providing depth, I think—other areas can be out of focus s while the main attraction is in relatively sharp focus.

One acknowledged painter explained on his DVD that backgrounds, or any area that is not the focal point,  should be indications of shape, light, and color. Otherwise, you run the risk of fiddling with too much detail and emphasizing things you didn’t intend.

It’s a rather simple concept really—painting the focal point in focus and everything else in less focus—but it takes forethought and planning to do it right.

Keep On Painting

Remembering Paul Gauguin and His Color Palette

My 2010 Acrylic Using Bold Colors
in the Gauguin Style

Today is June 7. It’s an interesting date because today is the birthday of Paul Gauguin. He was born in 1848.

You remember Paul, right?

He was known for using very bright and bold colors that could certainly render an eye-catching canvas. His bold choice of colors was not particularly harmonious, and I think you’ll agree, neither were his paintings.

Whether you like Gauguin’s work or not, you must admit most of it is colorful, if nothing else. 

And what was his color palette? One site I came across provided the following:

-Cobalt Blue

-Prussian blue

-Cobalt Violet

-Cadmium Yellow

-Chrome Yellow

-Red Ochre

-Emerald Green

-Viridian

-Lead White

As I said, bold choices.

You may also remember that he left France for Tahiti in French Polynesia in 1891, and after several trips, moved there permanently. He painted the indigenous population, including several young women who infamously, according to some, appear in many of his later works.

Gauguin died May 8, 1903 and is buried in Atuona, Hiva ‘Oa, Marquesas Islands.

In addition, and perhaps most interesting, on one site I visited, recent art historians say Gauguin is the one who actually cut off Vincent Van Gogh’s ear (or maybe just the lobe) during a December, 1888, kerfuffle in Arles, France. Van Gogh didn’t dispute claims that he had done it himself; we may never really know.

Aren't painters interesting?

Keep On Painting

The Biggest Mistake Painters Make

How do you like the headline on today’s blog?  I think it will get most painters’ attention. Of course, it’s only my opinion of what a painter’s biggest mistake is, but I think I'm right, all things considered.

Call it what you like, but the biggest mistake most painters make is:

- The failure to correctly render value in representational paintings

This problem may also be known as:

-Not getting your darks dark enough

-Not painting enough contrast

-Painting everything in the mid-values

We painters all know, or definitely should know, about the value scale. If you don’t know what that is, then that’s your first mistake. Gaining additional knowledge about values may be just the thing you need to improve your work.

It’s elementary, really, but picture a horizontal bar that’s white on one end and black on the other. The value of white is 0 (zero), and the value of black is 10 (ten). I think everyone can get this.

But it’s what’s in between the 0 and 10 that’s most important. Numbers 1 through 9 correspond to ever darkening values as the darks intensify and white changes to gray and then to black.

That sounds simple and easy to understand, but it's hard to transfer that knowledge to your actual work. The confusion comes, I believe, when painters confuse color in their paintings with the value scale just described. Or worse, they don’t even realize the relationship between the two.

It’s confusing because you can have the following example. Orange can have a darker value (a 6,7, or 8) than blue, even though when you think about these two colors, you’re more likely to think of orange with a lighter value (a 1,2, or 3) than blue. (And many oranges do have a lighter value than many blues. )

To make matters worse, the term "tone" is sometimes used instead of "value," so painters confuse the two, thinking they are two different things, but they're not.

And that's why it gets confusing. Anyway, you have to learn and understand value and its importance, then you need to use what you know in your paintings.

Otherwise, something can be terribly wrong in what you consider your best work, and you may not even know why.  Now that’s a mistake!

Keep On Painting

A Painting Gone Awry

A Lemon of a Painting

 
I am here blogging as one painter to another on the struggle we go through to put paint to paper (or canvas) and end up with anything we’re remotely proud of.

 I just ran water  all over my recent watercolor in an effort to salvage a painting that has gone awry.

I started it yesterday with such high hopes. The drawing was good; the composition was good; the initial washes were good or so I thought. 

But the painting went awry. Although the painting wasn't finished, I was completely satisfied with the results at the end of the day yesterday.

Today I began again with high hopes, but I noticed that some of the darks that I painted yesterday had dried darker and with edges that were much too hard. Now I know what that means--I was painting wet-on dry when I should have been painting more wet-on-wet.

But my recent wet-on-wet watercolors were just that—way too wet. And when they dried they were all washed out and with little change in value or color intensity.

So I thought I would be more deliberate and use more paint and less water. But the execution was lousy, obviously. And the result? A painting gone awry.

I know it takes years, or at least 10,000 hours, to become proficient at anything.

Painting may take longer.

When my water-logged painting eventually dries, I will try again to get it right or at least to a state of equilibrium somewhere between awry and a masterpiece.

Keep On Painting

Obsessive & Compulsive

My Acrylic Relief on Watercolor Paper
Copyright 2012

I have been what some would call obsessed with improving my watercolor skills over the past few months. I’m not sure why. Perhaps painters are supposed to be obsessive.

I am compelled to read and study, to watch YouTube videos, and even to purchase DVDs of several of the contemporary watercolorists who I think are the best at what they do. Perhaps painters are supposed to be compulsive. 

I’ve been studying and painting and viewing and painting and buying and painting.

I have gained a good bit of new knowledge, or I like to think so anyway, and I have tried to incorporate that knowledge into my work. I must admit, I wish the results were speedier.

It’s hard to be satisfied with your progress when you want immediate results. Of course, in art as in life there are no short cuts. We must persevere in our efforts to succeed.

At what point does perseverance and practice and stick-to-it-iveness become obsession and compulsion? I don’t know for sure.

What will I do when I have reached all my goals in watercolor painting, if that is even possible? “It’s the getting, not the having,” they say. I think they are right.

However, just to ensure I wasn’t becoming too obsessive/compulsive, I took a break from watercolor last week and painted in acrylic. It provided some relief and a brief respite.

However, wouldn’t you know, come Monday morning I was right back at it with my watercolors and my paper and my bucket of water.

The quest continues.

Keep On Painting

How Do You Like Your Paper: Single, Pad, or Block?

Following up on my last blog about the choices a painter gets to make, let me tell you about my experience with the different forms of paper you can use for your watercolor (and acrylic) paintings.

If you know all this already, well, then you can run on back to your studio to work on your painting.

Otherwise, I will tell you about the basic three: single sheets, pads, and blocks.

When I started painting in watercolor several years back, I began with single sheets. Why? Because my mentor said to do it that way, and not knowing any different, I followed orders.

A single sheet, as the name implies, is one single sheet of paper. Single sheets come in two sizes: full-sheet and elephant sheet. The full-sheet is 22 x 30 in (55.9 x 76.2 cm). The elephant sheet, which, I suppose, gets its not-very-creative name from being as big as an elephant (maybe?), is 25 x 40 in (63.5 x 101.6 cm).

Of course, these relatively large single sheets can be cut up into any size you want or need, but the common ones are called, again not so creatively, the 1/2 -sheet and the 1/4-sheet, which are exactly as their names imply. (I’ll let you do the math to determine their dimensions.)

Other than having to cut them into 1/2- or 1/4-sheets, the single sheet is ready to go right out of the bag, so to speak.

The pad can be convenient depending on how you plan to paint and what you want to do with your work after it's finished. Pads come in an assortment of sizes and are either spiral-bound or edge-bound with glue on the “top” edge.

I think pads are great for sketching and/or painting studies or other relatively quick work, much like a sketchbook would be. If they’re edge-bound it’s easy to tear out the sheets for single use or to leave them intact until whenever. I find the spiral-bound pads a nuisance because it’s frustratingly difficult to tear off a single sheet from the metal or plastic spiral band.

And even after that you have to trim off all the ragged edges, which you hope will leave you with a straight edge (not to mention the messy scraps of confetti all over the place).

Then there's the paper block, which seems to be the choice of those painters "in the know." Why that is, I do not know, but there seems to be some mystery about purchasing watercolor paper in a block. Maybe it’s because most people have never done it until they are exposed to it as an artist and painter. I certainly wasn’t.

As the name implies, the paper is bound in a single block; that is, with no loose sheets. It comes in various sizes with various amounts of sheets. But here’s the big difference--it’s edge-bound with glue on all four sides, such that you must use an X-acto knife, or some such, to separate and remove each sheet.

Aficionados of paper in blocks swear by them. They say you can just begin painting on the very top sheet and only need to remove it when the painting is finished. Better yet, they say, is that with the sheet attached to the block, you never need to stretch it because the paper self-stretches itself as it dries on the block. I guess that's an advantage if you ever stretch your paper, which I never do.

Anyway, I am currently using a block of watercolor paper. I do, however, remove each sheet before I begin painting—it just seems more normal to do that. I guess I'm afraid the paint will seep through to the next sheet if I don’t (and this is not inexpensive paper either). I do take care with that X-acto knife as it can be tricky (and dangerous).

So, in whatever form you choose to purchase your paper, the choice is yours. Lucky you.

Keep On Painting

The Painter's Choice

(Happy Mother's Day)

You have to make choices as an artist. Why? Because in the end you have to decide which door to open, which path to take, how you want to paint.

You have read. You have studied. You have learned. You have been tutored. You have practiced. You have tried out. You have completed. You have persevered.

But with all the advice and all the practice you have to decide.

There are at least two opposing views, and sometimes more, on just about everything you do, every choice you make as a painter. And these are the various opinions of the professional painters, the art teachers, the well-respected in art circles and societies.

Should you paint loosely, impressionistically or realistically, figuratively, even photo-realistically?

Should you use big brushes or small brushes? Do you like using hakes and squirrel mops or hate them,  or would you rather use rounds or filberts or even scrubbers?

Should you use student quality or artist quality paints? Most say to go with the more expensive artist quality, but at least one well-known watercolorist says to buy the cheaper student quality tubes in large sizes so you won’t be afraid to use enough paint--he even says to keep several tubes stacked in plain sight so you can see how much you have.

Should you use hot-pressed, cold-pressed (aka Not), rough paper or try Yupo or clayboard?

Should you stretch your watercolor paper. Some say absolutely you must and others absolutely not—they’d rather be painting.

Should you build your frames or buy them? Should you stretch your own canvases? Some pros say of course for quality and authenticity. Others say forget about it.

How many colors should you have in your palette and which ones should they be? Most painters say a limited palette is best, but what would you rather do?

You can dread or embrace these choices; that is, you can say you either have to make a choice or you have the privilege of making a choice.

In the end it’s ultimately your decision about your way of painting. Lucky you.

Keep On Painting

Painters, Accept Your Own Unique Talent

Acrylic on Canvas
Copyright 2008

Last night I finished reading a book about Vincent Van Gogh. Like many who have studied a little art history, I knew something about his life and work. There has been so much written and discussed about Van Gogh over the last century, that finding something new in his story was unexpected.

 Van Gogh’s life and paintings, along with those of Monet, Picasso, and several others have, in my humble opinion, become celebrated to the extreme, way more than was ever acknowledged during their lifetimes. It’s the bane of artists throughout art history: you don’t usually gain your greatest acclaim until after your death, and any wealth that comes from that celebrity goes to others.

So be it.

What I realized that I previously had not is that, as a painter, you must not only believe and have faith in the ultimate likeability of your work, you must also accept your artistic talent for what it is, yours and yours alone.

Van Gogh never seemed to give up on his work. He kept going under all kinds of hardship, including monetary, familial, and mental.

Van Gogh's paintings and his style of painting were and are unique and unmistakable. He didn't appear to question what art critics or other artists thought of his work or style of painting.

In his own words to family, friends, and acquaintances, Van Gogh simply stated what he had painted and described the composition and rendering of his paintings. He seemed to be secure in his ability to paint what he saw in his own unique style without question.

Ironically, in the last year or so of his troubled life he produced his greatest work.

My take-away is this: a unique style must not be evaluated, it must be embraced. Be secure in your talent, as Van Gogh was, and accept it as your own. 

Keep On Painting