Claude Monet: The Cliffs at Etretat, Henry Moore: Reclining Figures
I’ve always been intrigued by the juxtaposition of visions and styles in the same visual space. Hanging disparate artworks together is a great example of this and I wrote about it in a blog post last year entitled “the odd couple”.
I’ve recently been digesting a great little book titled “The Art Book” (Phaidon). I have the 1997 edition measuring just 5 x 6 1/2 in. It’s not just the content which fascinates me, although excellent, it’s that it is organized by one artist per page, arranged alphabetically. I love the randomness of the inadvertent pairings, page after page, putting together artists of different ages, schools and visions, linked by the hazard of their surnames.
We’re invited to consider together Michelangelo with the Pre-Raphaelite John Everett Millais; portraits by Renoir and Joshua Reynolds; the French landscape artist Theodore Rousseau alongside the monumental Rubens; Hans Holbein with Winslow Homer; Turner with the abstract work of Ty Twombly and of course, Claude Monet with Henry Moore.
In each case, the forced comparison seems to bring out the best in both works and artists.
There is now a new edition – larger (11 3/8 x 9 7/8 in) and much revised. I’ve not read this one as yet, but do know that with additions and subtractions the pagination changes resulting in a whole new set of pairings.
In this new version, Monet is paired with Piet Mondrian!
The Music Lesson, c. 1662–65; Vermeer
There’s a recent film called “Tim’s Vermeer” about an inventor (Tim Jenison) on a mission to recreate a Vermeer painting, using the set-up and optical aids that Vermeer may well have used. It’s by all accounts a fascinating and entertaining documentary. I’ve not seen it…yet!
Artists invariably use the tools available and will innovate strongly to get a result. I sometimes quip that if Michelangelo had had access to a projector, he would surely have shone his drawings at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The general opinion today is that the masters sought to keep their methods secret …to protect the magic…their value… but I suspect the secrets were more “open source” than we might assume.
Vermeer set many of his paintings in the same room… perhaps to facilitate use of his optical set-up. Through this, he was then free (with or without forethought) to focus on the human stories in his subjects …..with an innovative clarity in composition and design …perhaps more than anyone before …or for a long time afterwards.
His images seem strangely modern. This sparse, unassuming master created timeless human stories, with ringing silence and poignancy. He affects us profoundly with the quiet power of his paintings.
At Saturday’s workshop, 15 November, we explore Vermeer as our influence – details are on the courses page of my website.
In their mirrors: self portraits from Turner, Vermeer, Van Gogh and Kahlo
This Saturday marks the start of a new series of four one-day workshops, each themed on incredible painters who worked “Before their time”.
From the strangely realist compositions of Johannes Vermeer, J M W Turner unknowingly paving the impressionist way, Vincent Van Gogh’s emerging expressionism, to the surreal sensitivities of Frida Kahlo – four eras, four styles, four personalities, four great masters to inspire us!
There is still some space in each of the workshops. Check out the schedule and details on the courses page of my website.
Join us for some memorable painting days!
Many people tell me that portraits are difficult.
There must be some magic to getting a likeness. But maybe not. The main thing with drawing, all drawing, is to “draw what you see and not what you know”. This is not a new idea, of course. The expression “the more you look the more you see” contains the same essence. When we worry, judge and rush, we become distracted. In fact, when confronted with just about any of the details of daily life, we stop truly seeing.
There’s probably a double challenge with portraits, because we have so much deep-seated brain wiring geared to family, faces, recognition and related emotional responses. These responses: innate, profound and mostly unconscious, can easily swamp our portrait drawing abilities.
A few tips that work for me:
- Turn both the work and reference upside-down – though difficult to do with a live model, I grant you
- Use your non-drawing hand – I wrote about this in my blog post “On the other hand…”
- Look at your work in a mirror – you see things anew!
- Squint, take your glasses off, turn the lights down, use sunglasses or look through a slightly frosted surface – all of these reduce detail
- Look at negative shapes – the shape behind the shape!
- Draw corrected shapes before erasing the old – if you must!
- Exaggerate corrections – and then revise.
Some of these are “Old Faithfuls” and I’ve added a couple that have become good habits for me. One is not to erase, at least until new marks are established: those old marks show you where not to draw and sometimes can be recycled for new purposes. A related habit is to exaggerate revisions. The point of both of these processes is that they help me to not become “vested” in what I’ve already drawn, but to continue searching for what might be.
A starter-kit for your drawing toolbox! Do you have any favorites? Let me know!
This Saturday, 18 October, we explore the realm of “Portraits from photos” Details are on the courses page of my website.
“Howard’s Hat”, 15″ x 15″, Watercolour
There are many ways of getting a painting to resonate. Planning and executing with precision and a clear vision may be one. Another, more up my street, is protecting happy accidents along the way. (the term “Happy Accidents” being first coined by TV artist Bob Ross). We’ve all made a mark and seen a result that surprises: “Hey that looks interesting! I didn’t expect that but I like it.” When I see this, I often look to embody the effect: how can I propagate & reinforce the impact.
“The Woodsman”, 20″ x 28″, Oil on canvas
My painting titled “The Woodsman”, has one very strangely shaped eye. It seems to drip in the middle, preventing the eye from forming a contiguous whole. I remember leaving that mark there for most of the painting, wondering whether I should define it more completely or at least reduce the stridency of this almost random mark. But it repeats the verticals found in the beard, it could almost be a drip coming off of the hat and it certainly breaks up “reading” that eye – giving more focus to the squint in the other. When most viewers look at the painting, I am surprised to find that they don’t notice it. This “accident” is one that makes the painting!
Who knows where that mark came from. Perhaps it was subconscious. Perhaps random. But the response to that new mark is not either: it’s a connection with the painting. It’s the potential in what you see. Possibly showing a new path to explore. Painting for me is like this- a combination of conception, planning, skill and execution, but above all, an expression that comes mysteriously into the picture.
May all your accidents be happy!
This Saturday, 04 October, we explore the realm of “Happy Accidents” in our workshop: “Balancing Control and Expression – Capturing that special spark”. Details on the courses page of my website.