I remember when I first came back to regular drawing and painting again in 2005, there’s a particular drawing that sticksin my mind, etched into my memory. It was a little self portrait drawing. I remember looking aghast at it when it was done, amazed at itsclumsiness, its downright awfulness. That drawing in particular brought it home to me that I was going to have to completely retrainmyself. I should try and find it again and post it, but it’s probably buried somewhere in a vain attempt to forget that such an abominationever flowed from the end of my pencil.
So I knew I had to start over, but where to start? I had no idea, but I had to make a start somehow, and I came up with the ideaof setting myself to work through some short runs of series of drawings and paintings, justto get the pencil, the brush, my hand and my brain moving. That probably turned out to be the single most productive idea I’ve had.
A lot of those early pieces are posted here in the drawings and paintingssections. I’d do ten drawings of hands, ten paintings of single objects, ten paintings of pairs of objects, anything to get a bit of momentum goingand to break the fear of the blank paper or canvas. The beauty of that way of working is that, for as long as the series lasts, you don’t have tothink about what it is you’re going to draw or paint that day. Usually, I’d have a few running at once, so if I didn’t fancy drawing a mouththat day I could draw a hand, or paint a piece of fruit. I was never stuck for a subject.
One of the hardest things at the beginning was building momentum. Keeping it going can be hard too, but the really hard part is justgetting over the initial inertia. Once the habit of regular practice has been formed it’s much easier to keep it going, but it takes timebefore it becomes ingrained. Robert Genn at the Painters Keys site talks a lot in his fortnightlyemails about thenecessity of forming good working habits, and I agree with him. He also talks a lot about the value of working in series, and I agree withthat too. The important thing with a series I think is that it should be relatively easily manageable – short term, achievable goals.I almost always used to choose a series of ten,it being a nice round number, and the end was already in sight once the first one was done. Completing each series gave me a sense ofachievement, which helped to spur me on to the next one. Learning to paint from scratch is, lets face it, a rather large undertaking. Breakingit down into very small, bite sized chunks breaks the paralysis that can result from realising the enormity of the job at hand.
There are other benefits too. People talk a lot about wanting to develop a personal style, well, working in series will do that for you withoutyou having to put any conscious effort into it at all. In fact, I would say that putting conscious effort into that kind of thing is a mistake.The style, or direction if you like, should come from the work itself I think. And it does, in my experience, if you just get moving.
In my last post I was talking about how I seemed to have hit a wall, and was having difficulty finishinganything. Three paintings in a row had been scrubbed back to the ground, and that’s no fun when it happens to you, I can tell you. I think it’sprobably an indication that there’s a change coming, a reorientation. I wonder if it’s in the nature of the job that this happens every nowand again. Probably. Regardless, I found myself in a similar state of paralysis and disgust at my three failed paintings as I did three yearsago with that awful little portrait drawing. But at least now I have a handy tool in my toolbox for just these occasions. SoI started a series.
No surprise either then, that this will be a series of ten paintings. A short series, and all the paintings will be small, manageable,unthreatening affairs. I’m half way through now having just done the fifth a couple of days ago, and thankfully this series has had the usualeffect. I’m painting again, and am gathering momentum. So here they are.
Here’s the first, Silver Cup and Little Red Book. I’ve painted and drawn this silver cup many times, it’s a personal favourite you might say.This being the first one in the series, a familiar object seemed like a good choice. The little red book was a subject in one of the aforementionedfailed paintings, so I suppose that this one was also an opportunity to salvage something from the wreckage.
One of my goals for this series is to try out some stuff that I might be too nervous to play with on something I intend to be a portfolio piece.One of those things is underpainting approaches. The last post went into some detail about the construction of the iron painting, which started with arough underpainting in an approximation of the final colours of each part. I believe more erudite painters than I call it the ‘colour ebauche’.A pretty nice method I think, it worked well on the iron painting. For all of these five paintings,I’ve started with a raw or burnt umber underpainting on day one, painting the lights over it, leaving some of the underpainting to show throughin the shadows, on the second day. All these little paintings took two days.
The other day one of our cats hopped up onto the shelf I had all my favourite little objects on and upset it. This was one of the results. Thissecond painting is also a familiar subject, but obviously with a twist. The breakage seemed somewhat apt to me given the recent spat of brokenpaintings.
Working on two successive days on each piece meant that the underpainting had to dry overnight, so the first day’s work was done into a couch ofraw or burnt umber mixed withOld Masters Flemish maroger medium, very kindly sent to me by a friend. It’s a qualitymaroger I think, does just what you want it to. Helps the paint flow,dries overnight, and also dries to a quite nice even gloss sheen. Once the couch is laid evenly (but not too evenly) over the whole surface ofthe board, I’ve been starting by wiping out the lights, then painting into the dark areas with more pigment. It’s a nice way of working I think,it allows you to sort out all the values and edges in the underpainting. It’ll be interesting to try it on a larger piece, But plenty more practicewith little fellers like this first before I get to that I think.
Number three, Freesias. I’ve posted this one a bit bigger because it makes it easier to see where the underpainting is still showing through. Youcan see it most clearly in the shadow on the cloth to the left of the little vase (well, sake bottle) and in the cast shadow. Rather clumsily handledhere perhaps, but an effect I’d like to play with more. I think it adds depth.
For this one, I was rushed because freesias don’t last. I had to get the underpainting and the flowers done on the first day. The yellow onewent in first, it being the focal point really, and by the time I was half way through the purple ones the yellow one had already changed outof all recognition. Freesias are strictly a one day deal I think.
There’s some hints in this little painting of where I’m headed next. Having got to five, I’m having a short break from the series whilst I do alarger piece (still fairly small though, these are all about six inches on their longest side). Having built a little momentum again, I reallyfelt like trying another slightly larger one. It started with a small colour sketch, which I thought was interesting, and has just progressed toa larger colour sketch and now I’m on the final one. I’m not posting any of it today, but I mention it here since I think it’s a good example ofhow working in series like this can get your juices running. I’m happy with the sketches, I just hope I don’t crash and burn on the final one.We’ll see. I promise not to scrape it even if it does fail, and to post it when it’s done whatever the result.
Number four, and probably my favourite so far. I think you can see a bit of confidence returning with this one. At least, I think I can. Floatingflowers are set to become a regular thing with me. Partly because I just sold one, and partly because I like the theme. In fact, a series offloating flowers is highly likely.
Here’s a top tip if you’re thinking about painting flowers: chrysanthemums last a loooooong time. This one is still in this bowl, and still lookspretty good over a week later. It hasn’t changed much either. Freesias, paint fast, chrysanthemums, you can relax and enjoy it.
Number five and the last one for the moment. More floating flowers, this time begonias. These flowers also seem to last very well, these two have survivedinto three days of colour sketches for the painting currently underway. They’re looking a little tired now though, so I’ll have to change them fornew ones in the final one.
I’m quite happy with this one too, and I think it’s fair to say that by this time I’d broken my painting block and regained some momentum. Moreimportantly perhaps, some confidence had returned. Although the painting currently on the easel is something of a departure in technique from theselittle paintings, I don’t think it would have happened without working through these ones first.
Now I know I said I was going to be offering these little paintings for sale, and was even planning a new section on the site and all that palaver,but I’ve thought better of it now for two reasons. The first reason is a pragmatic one. If I was going to sell these on the site, I’d have to sellthem cheaply. A lot of people sell small paintings from their blogs now, and a general price region has become established. But I’m with a gallerynow, albeit an online only one, and selling work as cheaply as I’d have to sell these would in effect be undercutting them. That’s not good for anyone.
The second reason really goes to the heart of what this series is about. I needed to break my painting block, first and foremost. If I start offeringthe pieces in this series for sale, I think I may run the risk of putting myself back where I started. I think the most useful thing that can come outof this series is to move my work on, to help me find my way towards whatever it is that I’m trying to find my way towards. That kind of thing isperhaps better done in a low-pressure environment that allows room for experiment and mistake.
So the rest of this series, like this first five, is going to stay in the studio for now. That gives me more freedom with them.
I mentioned Robert Genn’s Painters keys site earlier. You might find something in the results of this search onworking inseries to catch your imagination. I’m a firm believer in it’s benefits. I can’t think of a single drawback to date and the proof, as they say, is in thepudding.
Posted 22nd November 2008
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Thanks Paul, for taking the time to post your comments and images. I always look forward to see your work progressing; well done!
Paul, its always such a delight to see your work, its so refined and gentle and you are such and inspiration. Thanks for sharing your thoughs, struggle and work with us
Paul, you already know how much I love your wife’s silver cup “portraits”…Thanks again for sharing your work with us, in such a generous way….
Hi Julie, and thanks. I’m feeling positive at the moment which usually results in higher post frequency so there should be another along soon. By the way, I found your page of old master copies today, which I found very interesting indeed. I was particularly impressed with the Vermeer. If anyone wants to check them out, there here. Thanks in return for sharing them with us.
Thanks Wilma. Lets hope there’ll be a bit less struggle and a bit more work in the near future 🙂
Hi Elaine, always nice to hear from you. Actually though, this isn’t my wife’s silver cup, it’s mine, mine I say! No doubt her one will be cropping up again before too long though. This one is hers. Hm. I’m a bit repetitive with my subjects aren’t I? You can certainly be forgiven for confusing them. Still, series and all that…
Dear Paul:
Thank you so very much for sharing your creative processes and re-creative awakening with the world. I am where you started a few years ago; I have completed two pastel paintings (a new medium for me), and two colored pencil drawings.
I may be in a small rut myself, for it seems that I find time to do everything else but work on my current piece. This has been going on for about two weeks now. I learned so much from your article–one action that’s sabotaging my efforts is that I am working too big.
The smallest piece I’ve completed is probably 8×8 inches (after trimming from 9.5×11 inches). I am currently working on (staring at, same thing, right?) a pastel that is roughly 12×16 inches. I am not a formally trained artist, I’m teaching myself in much the same way you did. I never considered that I was being too hard on myself and that perhaps I should work in a less threatening manner: I should work much, much smaller.
I’m happy for you that you have gained momentum. Perhaps the struggle, even considering the idea that a painting could ever be a ‘failure’, is part of the process. Perhaps it is just another bump in the momentum road that we artists must navigate; I’d like to think so.
And if you still consider those paintings ‘failed’, think of this: it gave you momentum to blog about it, therefore working yourself out of the rut and in turn really help me to discover what part of my problem is. So hurrah for failure! How else might we ever learn?
Finally, when you said that you are painting and writing “to help me find my way towards whatever it is that I’m trying to find my way towards”, you are also helping so many other people, like me and all your other fans, on that journey.
So thank you. From the heart.
Happy Holidays,
Vickie
Las Vegas, USA
I really enjoy reading your blog, learning about the details of design concerns and techniques, and seeing the beautiful drawing/paintings. I have learned from this website more than any oil painting books I have read. The only thing I’d ask for is — if possilbe — can you provide a link for a higher resolution of the paintings, so that a beginner like me can click in and see the details for texutres, brushworks, and subtlties in shadow colors? If it is too much trouble, then just don’t worry about it. Keep up the good work!
Hi, I discovered your blog some time ago and have been reading it most evenings and have to congratulate you on your achievement. When I look back at the earliest paintings of lemons oranges and tomatoes I can see a new depth and knowledge that is just not there in the earlier ones. What the latest ones have gained is atmosphere – something that you cannot get out of a tube or look up in a book. This is your real achievement Paul, to create some artworks that seem to live and breath in front of our eyes. I am not saying that the bargue drawings and Maroder mediums and whatever have not helped – far from it, but it is the commitment to the process of learning and seeing that have reallwhen I can. May I say first how I admire your achievement and how far you have come – when I look y raised your game to it’s present level.
I went through the whole art school scene wheI first found your blog a couple of months ago and since then I have been reading a posting most nights re it was more like four years of psychoanalysis rather than an art education and the more I painted the more I realised that I really need to learn the process of painting all over again. This is where your blog has helped. I think I have learned more reading your posts than in four years of college!
I too use the Michael Harding paints, but have had mixed results with them . Some colours, such as the cadmium reds I found to be so stiff that it was so much of an effort to squeeze some out of the tube, I was exhausted by the time I began painting! Others are just about the best paint I have tried, so perhaps they vary according to batches. I would love to try the maroder medium though, I must admit. With your example, I am now tackling the big problem that has always bugged me – using too many colours. I have now cut down my colours to four or five earth colours with one “guest” colour per painting, say orange or a cadmium red. The whole painting comes together so much better, this is the sort of stuff I should have learned in art school.
Reading your blog reminded me of two different painters in two different art forms. You may already know them, but if not, I would recommend you seek them out.
The first is in a film, The Quince Tree Sun by the Spanish director Victor Erice. It is a slow meditative film of the (real life) Spanish painter Antonio Lopez painting a still life of a quince tree in the garden of his house. As we watch him paint, the daily life of the city goes on around him. Builders doing work on his house come and go. A friend visits him. He carries on painting, revising and considering every brushstroke. It is about the quiet joy of looking and painting and the impossibility of capturing reality on a canvas. No other film I have seen has captured what it is like to paint. I think it a wonderful film, but be warned, my partner who sat through it thought it one of the most boring films she had seen!
The second artwork I would like to bring to your attention is a story. In the book The Matisse Stories by A.S.Byatt there is a story called Art Work. It concerns the household of a woman, Debbie, whose husband is a painter. He paints still lives of everyday things, which she describes as “ miraculous, they are like those times when time seems to stop, and you just look at something, and see it, out of time, and you feel surprised that you can see it at all, you are so surprised, and the seeing goes on and on, and gets better and better…..”Later on he describes the things he paints as “ unprivileged” .The story turns around the relationship which they have with their cleaner, who is Afro Caribbean and who has a suprising artistic talent of her own… a story about artistic integrity and the pursuit of purity in art, it struck a chord with me and I immediately associated the artistic aims of the fictional painter with your own.
Anyway that is all for now, keep up with the blogging and of course the painting.
Dennis Spicer
Sorry, the above comment has come out a bit garbled somehow, but I hope you get the gist of it, which is that I really admire both the blog and the artworks. One thing I missed out, this blog would make a great book, with a bit of rewriting and filling out.
Dennis
Oops, a few comments here I somehow missed, sorry about that.
V. Comrie: Thanks for your comments. I think the main advantage of working small, especially when you’re a bit stuck, is that you’re not so committed to each piece, you can afford for one or two to fail without it losing you weeks of work. You don’t fall so far so it’s easier to get back up again and have another go. I think it’s more to do with the amount of time invested than anything. It’s heartbreaking to spend weeks on something and then chuck it in the bin! But there’s a lot to be said for really committing to something sometimes too, and pushing it as far as you can.
Certainly failure is part of the process, I agree. Looking back at my own work I couldn’t really draw any other conclusion! Sometimes I think that when it’s hardest is when I’m learning the most.
Thanks for taking the time to comment, I’m very glad that you’re finding something useful in the site.
Ying Xiong, thanks for your very kind words. In future posts I’ll add some pop ups to show details, your right I think that would be a good idea. Jpegs can never really show what a painting is like in the flesh, but details can certainly help.
Hi Dennis. Don’t worry about your comment getting garbled. The comments feature here isn’t very user friendly, I know – I keep meaning to build in a ‘preview’ feature which would make things easier.
I’m glad you mentioned atmosphere, since I’d say that’s one of my main goals. It’s unfortunate I think, but art colleges really don’t seem interested in teaching people how to paint these days. That’s fine to an extent of course and I wouldn’t want to force it on anyone who wants to be a conceptual artist, but what about the people who do want to learn to paint? We seem to be left to our own devices by and large. However, I do think the tide is turning, and with all the modern ateliers cropping up these days at least there is now an alternative. I think we have the efforts of a few brave souls in the US to thank for preserving an unbroken line of knowledge from the Renaissance to the French academy to the present, people like Gammell, Lack, Graves and et al, and their modern students like Jacob Collins who are continuing to teach and to disseminate knowledge on how to paint. It’s not been completely lost, it’s just hard to find.
Cutting down your palette to a few colours can be useful I think, I did it myself for a while. But what’s helped me more than anything with colour is the application of Munsell to colour mixing. Breaking colours down into their constituent parts, hue, value and chroma, and using that model to investigate what happens to colour in light in the real world has unlocked my palette for me. If you want to find out more about it, I’d suggest joining up at the Rational Painting forum and reading some of the posts on Munsell there.
I’ve heard of that film about Lopez painting before, but never seen it. It sounds very interesting. Thanks also for the recommendation of the story by A. S. Byatt. I’ll look out for that too. Sounds like it’s right up my street!
I screwed up the link above, this one should work: Rational Painting Forum
I wanted to say how grateful I am for your site. I’m just starting to come out of a long time of block myself and actually spent this morning trying to remember something about your site to search on as I could not find a bookmark but knew THIS was where I had read the process that I felt would help get me going again.
I’ll make sure it’s bookmarked this time 🙂
Thanks Kathy,
I hope it helps you get started. As far as I can remember, I never did all the ten I was planning but I’m still painting so I suppose it worked!