CHAPTER 11. ADVANCED TECHNICAL INSTRUCTION
When one is learning a new skill, there are many problems that seem not to exist at all until a certain amount of experience has been acquired. Then suddenly, after the basic technique is under control, there is likely to be a dreadful awareness of how little one knows.
In the following pages I have tried to cover some of the many and varied problems that continue to plague printers even after they have turned out a number of acceptable watercolors. Overcoming some of these problems may mean the difference between passable and successful paintings.
WORK FROM STRUCTURE TO DETAIL
The big masses or units must be laid out first. These are then divided into smaller parts and subdivided into still smaller portions. Finally come the details. In actual work, the painting of masses is easier for the oil painter than the aquarellist. The former can brush them in simply and directly, while the watercolorist must be more cautious because he can’t paint light over dark.
It is essential cover all parts of the paper with color (with the possible exception of sky) at the very start. Until the picture can be seen as a whole (if only roughly), it cannot be evaluated and it is unwise to proceed to the second painting stage before the structural foundation is solid.
In applying the color, ignore the details, including minor light or white spots. Paint right over them if necessary. They can be lifted out later. As experience grows, you will learn to make allowances for them. Keep the color washes reasonably light, so they can be changed if necessary and so lights can be mopped out. Light washes are much more easily lifted than dark ones. The whole picture can be assessed as easily in a light key as in a dark key, but one must have the whole color plan on paper before it can be judged at all.
When the large masses are correctly arranged, divide them into smaller ones and finish the painting, but take care that the work on the smaller units does not destroy the identity of the larger ones. This rule must be followed no matter how much you subdivide. An experienced artist may cut many corners, carrying a good part of the painting conception in his mind. He may be less methodical, planning less on paper, even finishing whole sections of a picture before starting others. But until one has developed such ability it is better to follow a step-by-step procedure.
DON’T BE AFRAID TO LOSE THE DRAWING
Paintings are not colored drawings. A painting must be executed in masses of color, not in line. The preliminary pencil drawing should accurately show the placement of the various parts and their general shape, but not the fine detail. One must assume that the pencil lines will be lost once the color application begins. Whatever detail is to be depicted can be added after the large areas of color have been satisfactorily established. It can be drawn in, correctly but not stiffly, with a fine brush, using a very thin and sketchy line. The advantage of drawing with paint is that after a wash of water or color is added, or the color areas are manipulated a bit, the lines merge with the general color, leaving a delightful suggestion of detail but without hard delineation.
THREE-VALUE SYSTEM
In nature there are innumerable values of light and dark. The beginner often assumes that he should try to reproduce all of them, but the reverse is true. Simplification––elimination of the superfluous––is one of the foundations of great art.
Virtually anything can be reproduced realistically and acceptably on paper or canvas with only three values: a light, a medium, and a dark. Many teachers have built their instruction methods around a three-value system which is applied not only to objects within a picture, but to the composition as a whole. The system works out well, but since most pictures have many colors, and thus make the judging of values difficult, it may be more easily comprehensible if you simply apply the three-value rule to each component of your picture as you paint it. The net over-all result will closely approximate the three-value ideal.
The medium value might be called the local color of the object painted. Theoretically, you should begin by painting that value, later adding the highlights and the darks. However, in transparent watercolor, where it is necessary to work from light to dark, you may want to start with the light value. Of course it is possible, even in watercolor, to apply the medium value first, mopping out the highlights with a thirsty brush, a cloth, or a sponge while the color is still wet.
The paintings of the torsos (Figure 52) show how a limited number of values can describe an object three-dimensionally. To make the appearance more interesting, edges may be softened and an accent added here or there, but basically there are only three values.
RANGE OF VALUE
Pictures painted in full chiaroscuro should have a spread of value from virtual white to black, and paintings in lower key should range between a relatively bright light and a dark. Even one definite light or dark touch will add life to a composition. The strongest light and the strongest dark should be near the center of interest. Don’t place strong lights or darks near the corners or edges.
THE IMPORTANCE OF EDGES
Examine closely the paintings of old masters and you will notice in many that while certain areas are executed in virtually flat color and value, the edges of those areas, especially the shadows, show infinite variety, ranging all the way from soft and indefinite to hard and crisp as they lose and find themselves, sharply separating two areas here and softly merging them there. Unless you are painting a poster, edges should not be too clear-cut. They can be shown quite strong and contrasty around the more important parts of the picture with soft transitions in the minor divisions.
PAINT THE SKY FIRST OR LAST?
The majority of watercolor landscape artists paint skies first. The sky is generally lighter than the earth and, in theory at least, it can be difficult to paint the lighter area around or over the darker parts. Personally, however, I find it more satisfactory to leave the sky until the last unless I know at the start exactly the kind and intensity of sky needed. Often one is not sure of that point in advance.
Naturally, the sky and the earth must be calculated and painted to complement each other. You cannot arbitrarily insert any sky that appeals to your fancy nor reproduce the one apparent at the moment simply because it is there. The upper and lower parts of the picture must harmonize and must respectively contribute whatever is needed to bring the whole picture into balance.
It is easier to key the sky to the landscape than the reverse, for often the sky calls for little more than a simple wash effect, while the landscape proper can be relatively complicated. If you wonder how it is possible to paint a sky down to the trees and housetops without showing a hard division or without loosening the pigment already applied, the answer is that if a picture is loosely painted it doesn’t matter if the earth-sky line is irregular. If a smooth effect is wanted, the sky wash may be extended over a part of the already painted earth without harm, provided it is done with a single swish of a large brush, which is lightly and loosely applied, then left alone to dry. Don’t try a second stroke in the same place, for it will surely dislodge the underlying pigment––but you are allowed one try. Any change in the landscape painting which may result can easily be corrected after the sky color is thoroughly dry.
THIN WATERCOLORS
Unless one is experienced, he is likely to paint thin watercolors. In the first place, watercolor pigment always becomes lighter as it dries. A few minutes practice matching dried color samples with liquid watercolor will show how much extra pigment must be applied to get the dry effect required. Second, colors in nature seem to appear lighter than they are. Usually the true depth of color of any area can be ascertained only by comparing it with a lighter area, such as the sky. The experienced painter learns to make allowances for these illusions.
Transparency in watercolor is certainly desirable, but a landscape should resemble earth first and pigment second. There is nothing transparent about the earth. A picture of it should suggest substance. From time to time, under different weather conditions, squint at the horizon and you will see that the earth is virtually always darker than the sky, even when the sky may be said to be “black.” The sky is usually the source of light, whatever the quality of the day, and only under unusual conditions can anything on land be lighter than that.
Naturally, a sunlit field of green grass and brown earth appear light in color. Yet it is astonishing how a dark green can be used for sunlit grass. Painted sunlight depends not upon lightness of color, but upon the strong contrast between lights and shadows. The shadows may have to be painted very dark.
LOOSENESS IN WATERCOLOR PAINTING
Looseness, or a suggestion of fluidity, is the principal charm of watercolor painting and the quality that distinguishes is from other mediums. Looseness is achieved by apparent carelessness, by using the largest brushes the occasion will permit to administer fluid pigment directly, leaving it to dry in “accidental” poolings without further meddling. Precise outlines, delineation, and fussy brushing are avoided. Sometimes one passage at a time is built up and completely finished while still moist, then left alone to dry.
There is, however, another side to this matter. Many pictures are spoiled because the painter confuses sloppiness or looseness of planning with looseness of brushing. A fixation on loose painting can prevent one from learning to organize his work. Let me emphasize that looseness in watercolor applies only to the application of color. Rules of composition remain unchanged. Though the expert may handle his medium freely, underneath his apparently unstudied movements there is a very definite pattern of which he never loses sight.
Before you can paint loosely, you must know how to plan tightly. This planning can best be done in a very small sketch. Littleness dictates simplification, and the pattern can be sharply defined like a poster. The more the artist intends to lose himself in unrestricted brushing, the more valuable the sharp pattern will be. Only when you know the fundamentals are you able to improvise.
TEXTURE
Many kinds of textures are encountered in nature, and reproducing them on paper is an important part of watercolor technique. In addition to their usefulness in representing the surface or “feel” of objects pictured, textures are valuable in adding variety to a picture, for we don’t want all surfaces alike.
There are textures of things and textures of painting. There are the foamy wetness of ocean waves, the rounded smoothness of pebbles on the beach, the dried out grain of an old wood plank. Peeling paint, polished silver, mossy rocks, ragged tree bark, old brick walls, a kitten’s fur––these are only a few of the hundreds of textures that one may wish to represent.
Only practice can experience can tell you how to achieve all the effects you will want, but sometimes they may be easier than you expect. Waves sparkling in the sunlight, for instance, can be suggested with horizontal strokes of a half-dry brush that leave the white grain of the paper exposed. To simulate wood grain perfectly, use a wide flat brush lightly charged with color and drag it unevenly along the paper. On the other hand, the reproduction of the inherent texture of some things, such as an ancient shingled roof or a wet, slick mud flat, may demand more careful analysis and may require serious painting and color modeling.
Textural effects of the paint itself can also add a great deal of variety and interest to a painting. This kind of texture can be achieved in a score of ways. Among the most common are drybrushing in various directions, smudging, spattering, scraping with a knife or using a razor blade broadside, or dabbing with a crumpled cloth or tissue.
Unusual textures can also be achieved by taking advantage of the sedimentary colors which have a tendency to granulate or settle. They create a pebbled effect somewhat like morocco leather when washed onto rough paper because the surface depressions encourage the minute pigment particles to collect.
Cerulean Blue, Cobalt Violet, and most of the earth colors are very good for this purpose. Mixtures of sedimentary colors, such as Cerulean Blue with Umber or Indian Red often create a more definite pebbled pattern than any one color alone. Experiment will show you which are most suitable for any particular effect. You can help the granulation process by flooding the colors or mixtures over the desired areas and tilting the paper in different directions so the color can run first one way and then another before settling down to dry.
LUMINOUS SHADOWS
The lugubrious shadows often seen in watercolors are usually painted with a flat gray or near gray color, and the shadow color bears no relation to the sunlit color. One will see, for instance, a yellow house with its shadow side a cold gray when it should be a yellowish gray. This flatness and lack of color makes the shadow appear lifeless.
Any shadow, no matter how dark, can be made to look luminous by adding a few bold strokes of an even darker shade to it, especially on its borders, leaving most of the original shadow untouched. The combination of lighter and darker values within the shadow suggest detail to the observer, hence a degree of luminosity. The painting “In the Shadow of the Hills” on page 152 includes an interesting example of this. Although the shadow on the end of the foremost house was painted with exceptionally heavy color, it is quite transparent because of the even heavier accents it contains. A dash of local color flooded into the moist shadow color and allowed to dry in accidental formation can also be helpful. See A and B, Figure 53.
PULLING A PICTURE TOGETHER
A successful picture may include imperfect drawing and unrealistic colors, but unless the values of the color masses are right it will lack repose, a prime essential for any satisfying naturalistic picture. Repose in a picture means that each part stays in its appointed place. The important features attract the eye; subordinate factors remain subordinate; distant things stay in the distance; water lies flat, and so forth. The antithesis of repose is “jumpiness.” One cannot tolerate a “jumpy” picture.
Picture A, Figure 54, represents a beginner’s painting. Each detail by itself is satisfactorily indicated, but the masses neither hold together individually nor separate themselves from each other. The values are not correctly related so the picture has no coherence. Its instability would soon irritate a constant viewer.
Picture B, Figure 54, shows the same scene after being “pulled together.” Notice that by darkening and unifying the ends of the two houses and by reducing the sharpness of detail in the sunlit spaces, a pleasing pattern has been created, giving the picture a third dimension and producing over-all repose. Each part now assumes its proper position in the picture. The figures come forward, the tree recedes and is no longer confused with the clouds and the chimney, and the dormer becomes a recognizable architectural unit. Notice also that detail is easily seen in the shaded as well as the lighted areas, but in neither case are the details so prominent that they upset their respective color masses. Despite its division into detail, each color mass, light or dark, is still identifiable as a unit.
The cohesion and repose shown in this painting were achieved by working on each mass individually. In a light area this means the lightening of any lines or strokes that are so dark as the stand out unduly; in a dark area, it means the darkening of passages whose lightness is too noticeable. In watercolor, an already painted mass can often be pulled together by simply flooding a wash over it, details and all. If the are is light, clear water may be enough. The colors will run together slightly, making the darker details lighter and the light parts a trifle darker, thus reducing the contrast within the mass and making it a unit. For dark masses, a wash of warm gray shadow color might be used to attain the same end.
I have stressed the pulling together of masses, but of course the picture as a whole must also be pulled together. This is achieved by strengthening or subduing individual masses that are out of line, by giving areas warmer or cooler tones if needed, or by using a brighter or weaker color here and there. When each of the color masses is perfectly adjusted, they will all assume their intended places and the picture will have reposed.
TO MAKE THE DISTANCE RECEDE
In a picture that shows great depth of distance, it is important not only to make the distance recede, but also to be sure that the distance remains distant, that is, does not appear too lively or prominent. This is accomplished, of course, by appropriate use of linear perspective, atmospheric perspective and the perspective of detail, but there are several little tricks that may also help.
Think of the landscape as a series of painted theatrical set pieces placed one behind the other. Register them in your picture in successively lower keys as they recede. Get a feeling of space between them.
Contrast light areas against dark ones or dark areas against light ones to separate them and suggest spaces between them.
Use figures or objects of known size, such as houses, in diminishing sizes to show increased distance from the observer.
Place something across the horizon in the foreground or middle ground to make the horizon appear distant.
TIPS ON FINISHING A PICTURE
If you have gone as far as you feel you can with a picture and it still seems lifeless, check it against this list of faults which are typical of most watercolorists’ early work.
- Colors too thin.
- Landscape not dark enough in relation to the sky.
- Insufficient contrast between lights and shadows.
- Edges too sharp.
- Shadows dead, without luminosity.
- Masses don’t hold together.
- Distant areas too lively.
The cures for most of these shortcomings are discussed in the preceding pages. Reread those that apply and try to figure out where you have gone astray. One or two minor changes may make a great difference in the finished painting.
TO TAKE THE BULGE OUT OF PAPER
When a watercolor is finished, the paper is often buckled. To remove the undulations, moisten the back of the picture until it is thoroughly limp, being careful that the water doesn’t creep around to the painted side. When the moisture has dried enough so that the paper is fairly dry to the touch but still flaccid, place the picture under heavy pressure and leave it until thoroughly dry. This may take several days. The paper will emerge completely flattened.
I paint on 400 lb. A.W.S. Paper. Because of its thickness and strength it takes a good deal of wetting and a long time to dry. To soak it I place it face down on a carton somewhat smaller than the paper. When wet, the edges curl downward and shed all surplus water, leaving the painted side dry. To press it, I place the limp painting between corrugated paper boards (which allow aeration) and lay them on the floor. A specially made 24 x 32 inch board with two handles is placed over them with several gallon bottles of water on top of the board for weight. I can flatten five or six pictures at one time this way.
Buckled paintings can also be flattened by stretching. Lay the painting face down on the board, moisten the back, and after waiting a while to allow the paper to expand, seal the edges to the board with gummed paper or wide masking tape. When the paper is thoroughly dry and taut, cut it from the board or peel off the masking tape. If gummed paper has been used, it will be necessary to leave the strip adhering to the back of the picture.
In stretching paper to flatten a finished work, one need not be as thorough as when stretching it for painting. The paper need not be so thoroughly soaked (usually a light moistening is enough) and, since the contraction will then be less, the sealing tape need not be as strong or heavy. The larger the paper, the thicker the paper, or the greater amount of soaking, the greater will be the pull as the paper contracts in drying. One should experiment, therefore, to see just how strong a sealing tape is needed for a given job. Small thin papers can be stretch-flattened with a masking tape sealed edge, but the larger or thicker papers will call for heavy gummed paper sealing.
ARTISTS’ COLORS––HOW LONG WILL THEY LAST?
Many artists assume that all colors made by reputable houses or colors that are “expensive” are consequently permanent. Nothing could be further from the truth. None of the leading manufacturers claim that all their colors are fast. Some of our most exquisite and most easily manipulated hues are of a fugitive nature. It is not necessary that all colors be permanent. For certain purposes––painting for commercial reproduction, for instance––color of temporary durability are quite acceptable.
The permanency of colors has relatively little to do with their manufacturing source. There is no great secret to the making of standard paints and most manufacturers follow the same procedures. Artists’ paints, for the most part, are little more than raw dry color well mixed with a binder, such as gum arabic for watercolor, a casein glue for casein paints, and an oil mixture for oil colors. Naturally, there are different degrees of excellence in the materials used and of care employed in grinding or mixing, but basically the lasting quality of the paints depends upon the kind of raw pigment in the mixture. Commercial paint manufacturers do not make the raw powdered pigments. They buy them, and they all buy from similar or comparable sources.
Most paint manufacturers mark their colors as Absolutely Permanent, Reasonably Permanent, or Non-Permanent. Some issue printed material telling of the source and quality of their pigments. One might feel that “permanent” cannot be qualified, that anything “permanent” is necessarily “absolutely permanent.” However, “Reasonably Permanent” means permanent under ideal conditions and “Absolutely Permanent” means permanent under all normal conditions. For example, certain colors are permanent if protected from sunlight or if kept in chemically pure surroundings, but may fade in bright sun or if exposed to the chemical fumes often encountered in the atmosphere of industrial areas. Pure ultramarine, derived from lapis lazuli, is one of the most durable of colors. It is Absolutely Permanent. Yet a drop of lemon juice will destroy it immediately.
Most earth colors, which are made from pulverized soil or clay, are Absolutely Permanent. Even in strong sunlight they seem never to change. Earth colors include ochres, siennas and umbers, the Mars colors from yellow to violet, Terre Verte, etc. Other Absolutely Permanent popular colors are the cobalts, the cadmiums, the chromium oxides (Viridian, etc.), and the iron oxides (Indian Red and Venetian Red).
Pigments are derived from a wide range of diversified material which includes ground insects (Carmine), burned bones (Ivory Black), extract of roots (Rose Madder), coal tar material, and any number of mineral derivatives. Because of this, it has been found that certain colors cannot be mixed satisfactorily. Chemical action takes place through combination, and this gradually affects the color. For instance, pigments with a copper base, such as Malachite Green, may tend to black if mixed with the cadmium sulphides, such as the cadmium yellows and oranges. Certain chromates, such as Chrome Yellow, should not be mixed with organic colors made from vegetable or animal sources. Many color manufacturers supply leaflets which give detailed information on the forbidden combinations.
During recent years, some manufacturers have replaced certain of the old formulas with synthetic colors, or they have added the synthetic product to the old line. Emerald Green, for instance, in its pure state is aceto arsenite of copper, and as such should not be combined with Cadmium Yellow. In some brands, however, Emerald Green is now a mixture of two other standard colors, a blue and a yellow. If this synthetic color is used, the taboo is removed. Many of the new colors are aniline or coal tar products and, being of a more homogenous nature, may be mixed with each other without danger. Some of the synthetic colors are said to be Absolutely Permanent, but they have not been in use long enough to be completely trustworthy. Some of the aniline or coal tar colors are certainly not permanent or otherwise desirable.
In my own work, I use only colors that are Absolutely Permanent, with one exception. That exception is Alizarin Crimson, which I use infrequently and very sparingly. There is no Absolutely Permanent crimson or rose red pigment. Often, when a passage calls for crimson, I use Cadmium Red with Cobalt Violet added. This makes a beautiful hue, but it is not the same as crimson, nor does it have the brilliance of crimson or of carmine.
Although it might seem advisable to list here all standard colors, noting their degrees of permanency and their chemical compatibility––or lack of it––with other colors, developments in the color industry have been so rapid in recent years that it would be difficult to offer factual statements that would apply to given colors made by different manufacturers. If your artist supply store does not have printed material available on the colors it sells, write directly to the maker of your favorite brand of pigments for the latest information about his products.
SWING YOUR BRUSHES HORIZONTALLY
If you want your fields to lie flat, your clouds to resemble a ceiling, and all to recede properly into the distance, be sure your brushwork is primarily horizontal. Why? Remember that when you paint a flat or nearly flat surface such as the earth, you place the nearest things at the bottom of the paper and as the terrain recedes into the distance you show it higher and higher so that the horizon is drawn nearer the top of the paper than any other portion of the earth. From the bottom of the paper to the horizon may measure only 10 or 12 inches, but that may represent 10 or 12 miles of terrestrial distance.
Again, a flat disk such as a phonograph record is a perfect circle when viewed from directly above, but as the observer’s eye is changed in relation to it, it may seem an ellipse or even a straight line. In other words, the apparent distance from front to back gets shorter and shorter, although the dimension from side to side does not change at all.
When painting a round lake two miles in diameter, you might use the entire width of your paper to indicate the two-mile left-to-right measurement and no more than an inch for the distance from the near to the far edge. If the latter distance were increased to two inches on the paper, the apparent width of the lake would double. One inch of paper represents two miles of lake! This is why it is necessary to restrain your urge to paint vertically and keep you brush strokes horizontal when depicting receding distances. Brush from side to side, letting the horizontal strokes come closer and closer together as the move into the distance. This will prevent lakes from standing uncomfortably on end. The two river scenes in Figure 55 illustrate this point.
The rules governing the painting of flat terrain apply equally to clouds. Clouds nearest the observer may be shown round and in detail, but as the artist works toward the horizon his strokes should become increasingly level.
Practice that left-to-right swing. Moving sideways is the only way to travel into the distance in watercolor.
HOW WET THE COLOR?
The expert watercolorist can sense the exact degree of liquidity needed in his colors for handling a given passage, and with his brush he is able to gather up color of the precise density required. This is an indispensable skill, and it comes only from practice. It cannot be taught, but to become aware of it is an important step.
Some of the most effective watercolor work is achieved by painting one moist color onto another. At times really wet color is flooded into a wet area so it will spread widely. At other times half-moist colors are applied in a really wet area to produce limited spreading. To achieve soft-edged definition, pasty color can be brushed into half-moist color. It is even possible to paint sharp detail within the area if the paint on the paper is in a state of pasty wetness and the brush color is even thicker, almost as it comes from the tube.
The beginner almost invariably applies the brush color too wet, because watercolor always appears darker wet than dry. A half hour of practice painting wet-into-wet in different stages of fluidity until the precise result desired is achieved should save him much time and chagrin when it comes to actually using the technique in painting a picture. The secret in most cases is to keep the brush color thicker than the paper color and to mix all colors heavier than one thinks is needed, but only practice can help you find the exact answer each time.
PAINTING FROM MEMORY
In a way all pictures are painted from memory, for naturally we cannot look at both the subject and the painting at the same time. We paint what we remember having seen a moment ago. But it is wise to test the memory for longer periods. You might try working in one room, with your model or subject in another. Scrutinize the model only when absolutely necessary. At first you may remember little of what you have seen. However, when you find yourself balked, you will quickly be reminded of the points you should have observed.
It is surprising how quickly practice sharpens the powers of perception, teaching you to separate the trivia from the essentials and to remember the latter. Eventually, you work very largely from memory, needing only the briefest kind of memo for inspiration. This ability is necessary if you are to paint original pictures and not mere reproductions of what you see. Remember that the natural scene is to be used only as a foundation for your painting.
In practicing painting from memory, one should search not only for shapes, colors and values, but also for the over-all quality that inspired him to choose the subject––a mood, an unusual light effect, or whatever it was. It is more important to capture the aspects of the subject that contribute to this distinguishing quality than other factual details which may be of little interest in this respect.
When painting a local landscape, I usually make a small pencil sketch of the actual scene, revising it in my mind to form a good composition and making mental notes of colors and values. I return to the studio to paint the picture through the next-to-last stage, then take the painting to the scene for a final comparison, and return home again to finish the work back in the studio.
The ability to observe and analyze comes as second nature after continued practice. Painting from memory is the key to this important skill.
DISTORTION IN PAINTING
Distortion in painting may result from simple carelessness or inability to draw, or it may be done on purpose for one of many reasons. It is often used for emphasis in advertising and for comic effect in cartoons. Sculptors and muralists, on the other hand, use distortion to overcome visual illusion. Bronze or stone figures must be made considerably more bulky than their human models. Michelangelo’s distorted figures on the Sistine Chapel ceiling, intended to be seen from below, are outstanding examples of effective mural distortion.
Painters commonly exaggerate to augment the force of their compositions. Exaggeration in watercolor is most useful for strengthening key features. Except where faces and figures are involved, distortion can often pass without notice. A house can be tilted, twisted, or otherwise caricatured, for example, and still appear reasonably recognizable. So one should not hesitate to exaggerate the size, shape, strength, color, or angles of any part of a picture if the over-all composition will be improved.
TOO MANY INTERESTS IN A PICTURE
Looking over a landscape for a painting subject, a beginner tends to see a lot of interesting details that he feels must go into his painting. He may put an attractive white house on the left, a big red silo and barn on the right, and some rather interesting flowers in the foreground. If, as he is likely to do, he stresses each item in detail, the picture blows apart. It has too many dominating features and thus lacks cohesion.
A successful picture cannot include competing themes. Of course it is possible to include a number of features in a painting, but one must be dominant. In composing a picture, start with the feature that interests you most, and then add, one by one, other parts of the scene to support that feature. Remember that your secondary favorites must play a subordinate role to the principal. That means they cannot be stressed and must be mercilessly discarded if they don’t help to support the principal feature.
Once you have decided upon the mood for your picture and have laid out the general color scheme and the main pictorial interests, you are no longer master of the situation. You become the servant of the composition and you must give that composition what it demands, not what you may think you would like to include.
If you are in love with the white house, the red silo and barn, and the flower patch, make three separate pictures, each one featuring one of the themes.
SKETCH NOTES AND QUICKIES
The value of making quick and frequent sketches cannot be overemphasized. In their formative days at least, most successful painters made sketch notes whenever a suitable subject and the opportunity permitted. There is no better way to perceive the structure of things, to learn to see and appreciate, and to build up a store of visual memories for later use.
All you need for sketching is a pencil or pen, fountain, ballpoint or felt nib, and a sketchbook or pad. Watercolor sketching, though it calls for a little more preparation, affords wonderful practice and can provide valuable color memos.
Quickies are another form of rapid sketch which are employed more for technical practice than for the the recording of things or events. Make a practice of painting small impressions of scenes, objects or figures with the brush, making no preliminary pencil layout and allowing only a few minutes per sketch. This practice will sharpen your perception, loosen your style unbelievably, and encourage a bold approach that is difficult to acquire using methodical procedures.
TO CHECK ON THE SUCCESS OF A PAINTING
There comes a time when even the most experienced artist cannot decide whether his picture is good or bad. He detects no positive fault, yet he dislikes the whole without quite knowing why. Every painter has noticed he can recognize the mistakes of another’s work more readily than his own. He views his fellow artist’s picture as a completed work and judges it with a fresh, clear mind, whereas he has followed his own composition through every bothersome detail until his mind is jaded and confused.
One remedy is to put the composition away until the travail it caused is forgotten, perhaps for a week or a month. When it is brought out again the fault will often be readily apparent. Sometimes I place a questionable picture where I must pass it occasionally. I glance at it only casually as I go by, but usually, within a few days, the answer will suddenly emerge.
PAINTING SUBJECTS ARE EASILY FOUND
Although it may call for a high degree of ability to turn some subjects into satisfactory painting, almost anything will do. One artist-teacher, challenged to find and paint a subject within the room his class occupied at the time, painted a delightful watercolor of the students’ coat rack and the varicolored clothes hanging on it.
An artist who disliked the scene his friends selected for a sketching party made an excellent, full-sized painting of a single large weed. In fact, weeds are the subject of two painting reproduced in this book. A patch of growing weeds is shown on page 132 and a bouquet of dried sprays of weeds picked in December is the subject of “Winter Posies” on page 151. Another unusual subject is the picture of cemetery headstones in “Far From the Maddening Crowd” on page 20. “Aquarium,” on the same page, is the kind of subject that could well be right in front of you while you are wishing you could get out to the country to paint.
When kept indoors by the weather, I have sometimes selected a doll from Mrs. Whitaker’s international collection and backed it with a potted geranium or some other object to show scale. Two of these paintings, “Tambor Dancer” and “La Segoviana” are on page 111.
Panoramic landscapes and other complicated subjects may be excellent picture material, but a simple doorway, a single tree, a few rocks, a shell, or any of a thousand commonplace things can also provide material for a satisfactory picture.
PRACTICE AND PERSISTENCE
To become an artist, one must practice. It is possible to learn a great deal by reading, listening, and watching others, but to develop a mental and manual dexterity that will operate without conscious prodding, there is no substitute for working yourself.
Practice drawing and painting whenever possible. At other times practice analysis of scenic material, choice of subject, observation of moods, color relations, and the like. This requires no physical equipment but can be of inestimable value when you begin a painting. In addition, you will see and enjoy many beauties that previously went unnoticed. Remember, there is more to painting than the application of pigment. Observation and analysis are perhaps even more important.
Don’t discard a picture as soon as it appears unpromising. One can never really develop any composition if all are discarded at an early stage. Even though a painting may seem hopeless, keep at it until you have tried every way you can think of to improve it. Many pictures can be saved that way, but even if yours does prove hopeless, you will have gained worthwhile experience.
Don’t become discouraged if some pictures are failures. Even the best artists are forced to admit defeat on painting over which they have sweated and agonized. Actually, we learn little from our easy successes. Every success is built on a series of failures. Most progress is achieved through making mistakes, provided we don’t make the same one twice.
PAINT INDOORS OR OUT?
There is no right or wrong answer to this question. One artist may enjoy an outdoor routine, while another prefers to work indoors. Many artists do both. If you restrict yourself to painting outdoors only, your work may tend to be too literal, even “photographic.” The outdoor painter runs the risk of including in his pictures many unnecessary factors simply because they are there before his eyes. This is a real danger. There is much more to picture-making than simply reproducing nature. The artist must contribute something of his own––a mood, a dramatic presentation, perhaps an original color combination––and this is extremely difficult while face to face with the scene itself. The studio habitue, on the other hand, may get into an indoor rut and thus miss, in his work, the charm and spirit of the real outdoors.
Many successful artists paint some complete pictures outdoors, others work entirely in the studio, and still others paint in the studio from sketches and notes made in the field. The latter method is especially popular because on-the-spot sketches can be developed to a point where the essence of the scene and its most interesting elements have been recorded. Later, in the quiet of the studio where the artist is free from the distraction of assertive natural details, the essential elements can be recombined to produce an effective composition.
Good representative art is a mixture of fact and fancy. It is useful to go to nature for inspiration and for the facts, but the studio may be the best place to interpret and transform them.
PAINT COMFORTABLY
Painting is exacting enough without the needless irritation or physical discomforts and other hazards, so make yourself as comfortable as possible and have your gear in order and arranged conveniently before beginning to work. The paper should be fastened in some way to a drawing board or other rigid surface. You can’t concentrate on painting when the paper is sliding about or curling up into a roll. It’s a good idea to use a board one inch longer and wide than the paper. This allows a half-inch margin of drawing board on all four sides. If your paper is larger than your board, the paper will extend loosely outward in all four directions. Such a sloppy set-up becomes a nuisance.
If thumbtacks are used, there should be enough of them and they should all be pushed in firmly. If you use only one or two tacks or insert the points lightly, the wet paper will curl eventually and eject the tacks. Tacks are usually unsatisfactory in unstretched paper anyway. As the paper expands from moisture, the tacks interfere with the movement and the paper buckles. Large clamps are better. They can be opened occasionally to accommodate the paper’s expansion.
When using stretched paper, be sure the edges adhere firmly. Even if the paper comes loose at only one point, the paper tension will be lost and unevenness in the painting will result.
If you are working out of doors, try to keep the paper shaded. Bright sun on white paper will strain the eyes. Also, the colors in your picture are likely to appear drab when viewed indoors.
WEARING SUNGLASSES WHILE PAINTING
When painting outdoors, it is sometimes hard to avoid the glare of bright sunlight on the paper. This can seriously strain the eyes if they are unprotected. It is also undesirable because such a picture will appear flat when viewed indoors unless the artist knows how to compensate for the effect of the glare.
Umbrellas are impractical. Like many artists, I sometimes use dark glasses, which brings us to the question: “Don’t sunglasses change the colors?” Naturally they do, but the disadvantage is not as great as it may seem, for they change in similar degree both the appearance of one’s pigments and the subject itself. If the artist uses a green pigment that matches the green of a tree before him, the two greens should, theoretically at least, match also when viewed without sunglasses. There may be a slight deviation, but it usually is not enough to cause concern and one can easily correct the errant colors or values in the studio.
BELEM TOWER. The center of interest in this rather dramatic composition is a large dark spot, the heavily shaded rectangle near the center. This has been surrounded by four dark window openings and the shaded section at the lower right to steal some of its importance and prevent too-insistent concentration on it. Notice the surface texture and the airiness of the dark apertures.
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