Success

I once read of a painting teacher telling his students "Never try to repeat a success". Say what? In what other facet of life would you even entertain such a suggestion? In virtually all endeavors common sense tells us to repeat our successes. However, when I first read this advice I knew exactly what the teacher meant. Repetition can be deadly in ones art. Searching for a path to success is the goal but you stop growing by simply replicating a successful formula .

Staying on topic there are a several of my early nudes and four self portraits reflected in the still life below.

Still Life, oil on linen, 19" X  23", 2006

I am not capable of endlessly repeating paintings I find "successful". I get bored when not experimenting. I have a loose "rule of three". If I hit on a subject that I enjoy exploring and produce an image that "works" I'll try a couple more.  One to see if the first was merely an accident and another to confirm my conclusion. The still life above was the third, and my favorite, of four paintings that prominently featured reflective surfaces.

Over the years I have broken this rule many times notably with peaches and magnolia blossoms.  Due to a high level of difficulty and complexity I think the figure demands a new rule. Perhaps a rule of 300.

Foreshortening

I have previously mentioned how much I enjoy foreshortened angles. In group settings most models position their poses to appeal to the main working center of the room. For me a full reclining pose often feels too elongated and spread out. So, I tend to seek out head or foot views. I like the inherent compactness and difficulty level these angles offer.

Reclining Nude, oil pastel on toned paper, 7 1/2" X 11 1/2", 2012

When confronted with a foreshortened pose beginning art students often elongate the figure. They are working from their preconceptions of what the figure looks like. You have to suspend these notions and trust what the pose actually offers you. My mantra has long been draw what is actually there, draw what you see.

Reclining Nude, oil pastel, 7" X 10", 2013

I have seen elaborate mechanical setups designed to aid artists in rendering the foreshortened figure. They often involve a grid superimposed over the model to orient body parts in their proper places. Such methods can be useful learning tools but ultimately there is a lot of intuition involved. You have to exaggerate the foreground and diminish the figure as it recedes in space. I don't have any hard rules regarding foreshortening, when it works it just "feels" right.

Zero to Sixty

After a six week break from painting the figure I made the trek to Alexandria, VA to attend a five hour session at the Art League. I had my pallet mixed and ready to go at the10:00 starting time. The model was forty minutes late, snow issues or something. Often in these cases someone from the group will step up and pose for some warmups. No one seemed inclined so we mulled around chatting waiting for the model. Her arrival involved a quick entrance and getting right into pose. No warmups, no adjusting the setup or lights, just right into pose.

Seated Nude, oil on canvas, 16" X 12". 2015

When a model gets set I usually take a couple of minutes to assess my approach. But the late start gripped me with a sense of urgency. I had to get up to speed fast. The first hour and a half were quite nerve-racking. I didn't calm down and feel in sync until after the lunch break.

It felt good to be facing a model with a brush in my hand instead of a pencil. The first moments approaching a blank canvas are always fraught with anticipation, excitement and often a dash of fear. This session was a shock re-entry and didn't disappoint.

Painter/Teacher

With a couple of brief exceptions I have avoided teaching art. Being a good teacher involves a great deal of selflessness. A students interests have to come first. I have a very difficult time not focusing on my own work. Also, how can I possibly teach something I am still in the process of learning?

Figure Study, oil pastel, 9 1/4" X 8 1/4", 2012

Too often students want a teacher to be an authority figure. Someone to "tell" them how to draw or paint. The best I can do is show others how I approach a blank page or canvas. But I don't think the way I draw or paint is the way anyone else should. My working methods and style have developed over many years and are unique to me.

I'm not for a moment trying to minimize the value of a good teacher. I did after all have a college professor show me how to see, no small thing. I had teachers who's passion for art conveyed directly to me. I learned the vocabulary of art in school. Ultimately, however, the only way to learn how to draw or paint is by drawing and painting. Discovering ones exceptionalness and developing a personal style is the challenge and where fulfillment lies.

Forcing It

In the best of worlds "working" a painting involves a positive energy that flows naturally. A quiet confidence dominates the process. Such was the case with the portrait below. That's not to say problems don't materialize but solutions come readily. This is the optimal way to paint and dare I say to go through life. Of course in the real world this state of harmony can not be maintained indefinitely. Working a painting can easily devolve into "forcing" a painting.

Molly, oil on linen, 13" X 11", 2009
Collection of Neva Trenis

Forced energy is negative energy. I've started asking a couple of questions when I feel work on a painting becoming forced: 1. Is the working process satisfying or am I just going through the motions? 2. Am I learning anything new or simply repeating old mistakes in new ways? If I can answer one of these questions positively I'm inclined to continue. If not I need to put the project aside, at least temporarily, and move on.

As the year comes to an end I find myself facing a similar issue with this blog. My path ahead with the figure isn't clear. Hence my focus on these posts has muddled. I'll stay on board as long as the writing is enjoyable and topics continue to flow.

Quality Time

I won't be hiring any models this winter. My studio has some heat issues so any private sessions with the nude will have to wait until spring. Nature has presented me with what is probably a needed break from the figure. To stay occupied and focused I am working on a life sized trompe loeil oil of a shirt. What appears simple at first glance is in fact quite complex.

Shirt, day two

My brush strokes the first couple of painting sessions were confident and energetic. But as the picture progressed I found myself becoming increasingly hesitant and deliberate. Without the urgency of a live model it is easy to settle into an uninspired comfort zone. Painting in this manner can be counterproductive and actually drain energy from a work.

Shirt, week two

The spirit with which one works transfers directly into the work. A short vibrant painting session is preferable to a long half-hearted one. This is an important distinction. At 63 I am keenly aware that the energy available for any given task is finite. I no longer have the perspective or advantage of youth where time is seemingly limitless and expended vigor is readily replenished.

A Burning Ember

I know an artist who gets up early every morning, writes in a journal and then works on his art before going to a full time job. He has been doing this for many years without any apparent break. I greatly admire his consistency and dedication. I, on the other hand, have extended periods when I'm "hot" that are inevitably followed by cold spells. My work seems to be inextricably linked to lifes ups and downs.

During these cool periods I can feel detached not just from my art but from life in general. I'm not sure which is the cause and which is the effect. If this goes on too long I try to work on something - anything - to keep at least a faint ember burning.

 Nude study from drawing, oil on canvas, 9" X 8", 2012

Back in 2012 during an extended slump I decided to do some oil studies. I wasn't up to any live model sessions so I used some drawings as source material. I was just trying to stay loose and keep an "edge on", practicing scales you might say. Working in this manner was very liberating. There was no time constraint with a model and absolutely no expectation of "success". Staying engaged in some way can help you be ready when, hopefully, the ember reignites.