Style

#11 in the series “Thoughtful Thursdays”

Several months ago, I showed a few of my paintings to a gallery owner.  For the first time in my five year and three weeks painting career, I was told that my paintings don’t have enough detail, that they look as if done plein air. That is French for “on site”, which also translates into “I’m painting as fast as possible because the light won’t hold still and I can’t possibly be careful at this crazy pace”.

This description shocked me, because I love detail! Pencil and the detail possible with that humble instrument have held my attention since 6th grade. I’ve even been accused of “drawing” with a paintbrush. How could someone possibly think my paintings are lacking in detail?

I strive for accuracy in my paintings. My favorite way to paint is to add layer after layer until every last blade of grass is visible. This degree of thoroughness is virtually impossible to attain, both with my emerging (a polite way of saying novice) skills and the need to finish a painting in a timely manner.

The most commonly known and identifiable styles of art are abstract, realism, surrealism, impressionism, primitive. Abstract does not show recognizable objects and is also called “non-objective” art. (Thank you, Captain Obvious!) On the opposite end is realism, which shows things as they appear in real life. Surrealism presents strange subjects as if they were real. Impressionism is lacking in detail because it is all about color and light: I remember how to identify this style because it looks as if the painter didn’t have time to truly study his subject but needed to leave the right impression. Primitive art is childlike with no visible understanding of perspective or proportion.

In addition to level of detail and texture of paint, style is also defined by subject matter and the use of light and color.  A Vermeer is recognizable by the subject of a woman at a task near a window using primary colors and a certain quality of light. Monet was known for his water lilies, Van Gogh was known for his irises and sunflowers, and Botkin is known for her oranges!

One of the reasons it is important to establish a style is to receive commissions. This happens when one’s style is recognizable and consistent. If an artist is tinkering with many styles, a potential customer won’t know if a technique can be duplicated or if it was a fluke.

As I achieve greater proficiency with paint, brushes, and canvas, I’m hoping that my true style emerges. I’m hoping for the detail of Rockwell with the light of Vermeer and the brilliance of Bierstadt!  When my paintings are as consistently recognizable as my pencil drawings, I will know that my style has been established.

California Artist

That’s me. All these years I have considered myself a Tulare County artist. Google agrees with me on this. But, more people search for California artist than for Tulare County artist. Silly me, I thought if I were to call myself a California artist that I would have to portray the Golden Gate bridge, Yosemite, and Malibu. But look at what I have been drawing and painting for years:

Sequoia trees – those only grow in California!

Navel Oranges – hello, California!

The state flower of California is the California Poppy!

In conclusion, I have decided that I am a California Artist. What do you all think??

Oops

Have a look at this painting:

Say what? Wasn’t this painting of the bridge much further along? Indeed it was.

It was sitting on a tabletop easel on that round white table, just as you see it in this photo. I put another painting on the folding easel (the one with aspen trees) and set it in front of the round table to begin painting. As I reached back to tighten the bolts to prevent it from falling backward, WHAM! it fell backward. The top of the easel ripped a long tear into the bridge painting on the easel behind it. Lots of thoughts went through my mind, sort of like they do when you see a Mustang headed directly for your driver’s side door at 60 mph and know you are toast. Here are some of the thoughts:

  1. Canvas can’t be repaired.
  2. That was the expensive thick 18×24 canvas.
  3. I love painting that bridge.
  4. This isn’t really happening.
  5. I should have seen that coming.
  6. Maybe I got that expensive canvas on sale.
  7. Good thing I like painting that bridge.
  8. Good thing it was only 1/2 finished and not 75% finished.

Perhaps all those thoughts weren’t there as the easel was collapsing, but they were there shortly afterward. The odd thing is that I didn’t swear or even feel upset. I just took the wire off the back, got another (thinner, less-expensive) 18×24 canvas unwrapped and applied the wire to the back. Then I started painting again.

After it began to soak in that I had just knocked my finish time for all these paintings back by a large amount of time, I retreated to the studio and took refuge in my pencils.

Keeping Up With the Jones

Ever wonder what an artist does on a day off? I only know what one artist does on a day off – that would be me.  First, I experience a tad bit of anxiety about not working when there are deadlines and lots of work right here at my home studio. In a concerted effort to not work, I read some knitting blogs instead of websites about how to use Facebook to benefit my business. Then I decide that it would be rude to work when Michael is off and at home; besides, during the week when it is sunny out, I keep wishing I could be out in the yard.

After all this reasoned thought, I was ready to face the day. We spent the morning pruning and hauling brush and being amazed at the vast quantities of materials that grow in our yard and aren’t edible. . . which is why they grow here and aren’t consumed by deer and gophers. After a short lunch break, Michael suggested a walk.  I’ve been watching our neighbor’s dog and the poor beast is lonely, so I thought we should go visit him.

This is Berkeley Jones, adopted from an animal shelter about 9 years ago and given his unusual moniker by 2 sweet little girls, one of whom will be getting married next summer.

There was more incentive to check on Berkeley than simple concern for his well-being; he has a beautiful back yard!

We walked back home with a profound sense of gratitude for life in Three Rivers, in the sunshine above the fog of the Central Valley, walking distance from the river, surrounded by great friends and beauty in every direction. (Never mind about the weak water system in our neighborhood which caused us to abandon 75% of the lawns that came with our house; that looks like a crummy lawn in the photo, but it is a weed patch now.) We were also inspired by the very fine manicured oaks in Berkeley’s yard so we spent another couple of hours in the yard when we got back home, trying to keep up with the (Berkeley) Jones!

I’m No Abbey Ryan.

Recently my friend MA sent me some info about painter Abbey Ryan, and I watched a video of her painting. She finishes one painting every day and then sells it for big $ on eBay. It looks so easy.

MA owns these cute little metal birds. She loves these guys, and I understand why!

She asked me to paint one for her on a 6×6″ canvas. I photographed them a bunch of different ways, this angle, that angle, 2 together in different poses, light on this side, light on that side, this one alone, that one alone. Then I deleted the ones that weren’t as appealing, cropped the 4 best ones to a square format, emailed her, and let her choose. She asked for one more angle, so I photographed it that way and sent her favorite along with the new one. She chose the first favorite.

I began mixing the colors while looking at the actual birds. The sun was so bright that I was sure I was getting the colors perfect! Mixing colors is so much fun, and it is sort of magical because of starting out with only 2 blues, 2 reds, a yellow and white.

Finally, it was time to paint. I couldn’t get the angle of light on the bird the way it was in the photo, and the light was too bright to see my computer screen photo well. I moved things all over my work area, and finally decided to just begin. I figured I could try getting MA’s bird finished in one sitting a la Abbey Ryan. I figured wrong. The brush is still not a pencil, no matter how much I practice. Finally I realized that the paint was just smearing around, messing up the colors, and no more progress would be made until it dried. Here is how the little bird looks after one painting session:

Good start, messed up feet, paint all over my hands from holding the canvas!

Layer by layer, canvas after canvas

Still rotating around the workshop among the many paintings in progress. At some point I may stop showing you these, because I want you to attend the show at the Tulare Historical Museum. And, when you attend, I want you to say “WOW!” rather than “Oh yeah, I saw that one while it was being painted”. Not sure when that point will be reached. More will be revealed. . . or hidden, in this case.

New and Improved

Learning, learning, always learning. When I stop learning, I will be dead! Here is my current personal painting lesson (and I may be the “meanest” teacher I have ever had!) If you are a regular reader of this blog, you will know that I love this bridge to the point of ridiculousness. Apparently I am not alone, because each time I draw or paint it, it sells. The most recent version hasn’t sold; because I know the subject is a winner, I had to take a hard look with my most critical attitude at the painting. Without going into specifics, look at the Before version:

Now look at the After version:

Now that I have seen it on my screen, I can see that my lessons from this painting aren’t over yet.

Okay, now maybe it is finished. Maybe. Perhaps. I’ll let it mull awhile longer.

How Many At Once??

This many! If you compare the photos to those in the January 13 posting, progress is evident. It is a bit random, as I choose what to work on based upon 2 things: degree of wetness and colors already mixed on the palette.

Forgive Us Our Trespasses

This is 16×12″ oil on wrapped canvas. It represents 2 days of exploring Yokohl Valley last March at the height of wildflower season. I spent an inordinate amount of time on it, and almost had to break out my blow dryer to have it dry in time for the show! “Yokohl Valley Revisited” at the Tulare Historical Museum opened last night.

The title of this paintings has 2 meanings: a fair amount of trespassing was involved in gathering my photos. Number two: in the Bible “trespasses” means sin; I think it would be a sin to turn this gorgeous place into a city. I can just hear my Very Wise Dad saying in his overly calm voice meant to soothe but also a bit infuriating, “Everybody has to live somewhere.”