Linda Mann Artist

    I was looking at Style.com recently, and saw these images of Dries Van Noten’s fall collection. I was struck by the colors. I wondered if I could use them in a painting. This is unusual for me, as I usually begin my compositions working with form and value relationships. Color, of course, is always present in my work, but it’s not usually my starting point. My first challenge was to find items that I owned in these colors. It seems that most of my props are in the brown, ochre, gray and burnt sienna families. Pink was the hardest. I’m not a pink person. Dark green was difficult, too. All I could find were some old books. (The book in the photo is actually green, not blue!) Also, just because something is the right color, does not at all mean that it’s the right shape. This is, I think. the greatest difficulty of starting with color. Of course, I could always paint something any color I want, but I really like to see the correct colors in front of me. I don’t mind making small adjustments away from reality, but any large change in color is hard to fake. Next, I’ll finalize my composition, do a drawing, then a value study, and finally begin painting.

 

 

 

Now that I’ve completed a few painting sessions with my ‘Colored Block’ painting, I want to make some changes. I knew it was risky using four objects in a composition. It can tend to look very ‘square’ and without a focal point. I realize now that all of my four objects are calling for attention and that I haven’t decided which one of them is most important. (How did I neglect that?) Looking at it now, I think I’d like either the colored blocks or the crystal sphere to be my focal point. The problem with the blocks is that where they’re sitting, so far to the left, is an awkward position for a focal point. It’s not where the eye would naturally go. The crystal is a bit better, but is still rather low. The way the painting stands now, the blocks draw the most attention because of their bright colors. However, the eye is also drawn to contrasts of dark and light, so the black vase says ‘look at me!.’

I think that before I decide on the focal point, I’ll address the problem of the ‘squareness’ of the composition. Now, there’s a subtle shadow cast from the left over the whole set-up. I think I’ll increase this shadow to encompass the left side of the vase and some of the blocks. This will tend to unify them, making them read more as one shape instead of two. It’ll also add a bit of drama to the set-up, which now looks somewhat flat. After I do this, I can get a better idea of what the focal point should be. I expect it’ll be the sphere, but you never know until you try!

 

My last two still life set-ups have had large shadows cast on the back wall. The transition between these shadows and the lit areas can be very difficult to paint. Typically, I use a dark glaze for my shadows. I paint the background, allow it to dry, and then glaze the dark shadow over it, blending the edges of the glaze with a cotton pad to achieve a smooth transition. If the underpainting is smooth enough, this works just fine. I used this method successfully in my "Renaissance Tray’ painting, top painting above. However, if too many dried brush strokes catch the glaze from underneath, an uneven appearance results. When this happens, I’m forced to try to blend the edge either while the glaze is still wet, or after it dries. There are problems with both methods. Working with a wet, dark glaze can be difficult, especially when I’m trying to blend it with a lighter area. To blend it, I must first add some new, fresh paint to the dried background, and work this wet paint into the dark, glazed area. The white in this light area blends with the colors of the dark glaze, which usually contains ultramarine blue. This blending results in an area of light blue at the transition instead of the smooth transition from the color of the background to the dark neutral of the glaze. This is not the effect I wanted!  If I wait for the glaze to dry, I have other difficulties. The hard edge must be smoothed with a transitional area of fresh paint that must be worked into both the shadow on one side and the light on the other. Blending fresh paint into the light area isn’t hard, because both contain white and are opaque (and reflect light the same way). This same paint, however, doesn’t blend well with the dried glaze, which because of the glaze medium blended with it, is glassy and transparent (and reflects light in a very different way!). I’m having this problem in "Golden Goblet and Blue Vase,’ second painting, above, which I’m currently working on. The shadow cast on the back wall has a very uneven edge and my attempts to smooth it out haven’t been very successful. If all else fails, I could repaint the entire back wall, let it dry, and then try glazing the shadow again. I hope it doesn’t come to that! By the way, there is a third option, which is painting the shadow at the same time as the wall, in solid paint, using no glaze, and simply blending wet-in-wet. I haven’t tried that because I love the way a glaze mimics the look of an actual shadow.

The First Layer of Paint

 

I just began a new painting and realize that I have less anxiety than I used to about beginning a painting and getting it right at the first session.  I’ve discovered that it’s not so important how you begin (within reason!), but simply to begin. So much about painting is about comparison (the canvas to reality and parts of the canvas to others.) Until there is paint all over the canvas, you can’t properly judge values and colors. It almost doesn’t matter what paint that is, as long as it provides a basis for comparison. It’s much easier to look at something you already painted, compare it to the set-up and think ("that’s a lot redder than the set-up. I know how to fix that!") than to stare at the canvas and think ("What red of all the possible reds should I mix for this area?") Partly it’s that colors are affected by their surroundings, and partly it’s that you sometimes (usually!) can’t figure out what color is right just by looking at reality. Pigment is so different from light that it takes a lot of interpretation to translate what you see to which pigments can mimic it.

Another reason that I like the method of putting down your best guess and then correcting as the painting progresses is that it results in several layers of paint, each getting progressively more rich. After the first session, I might correct an area by putting down a scumble . The next time I might add a glaze. These layers intermingle and can produce a result of great subtlety and beauty. Often, I plan for these layers, for example, putting down a darker area, knowing that I will scumble over it with a lighter tone later.

I have also noticed that as I progress with a painting, I begin to see more and more. I get to know the set-up, and can do a better job of painting it. What I could see at the first session seems inadequate.

So, a many-layered approach works best for me. It takes the pressure off of me to be brilliant right off the bat, and also can result in a beautiful painting! 

I’ve been using fabric extensively in my set-ups lately. I love the almost organic quality of the folds and the way the light and shadow plays across them. Instead of the fabric being a background to the other objects, it is an object worthy of study in itself.

In arranging the fabric, I find that I have both more and less control than I do when working with, say, a vase. A vase is a solid form that doesn’t change when I touch it. I can set it close to, or further from other objects in a set-up, creating relationships that I can control precisely. Most every shape that you see in one of my still lifes, whether it’s the shape of an object, or of a shadow, or the negative space between objects,  is either selected or designed by me to contribute to the design. Nothing can be random. When I arrange a piece of fabric, however, things change somewhat. Fabric can take on innumerable shapes. Within limits, I can create almost any shape I want. I can’t, however, completely control it. Fabric takes on certain characteristic folds and forms according to its composition and weave. Most of the small shapes the fabric assumes are a result of the fabric falling naturally from where I have placed it. In other words, I have not directly designed all of the shapes the fabric assumes. They are, in that sense, accidental. Of course, if a random fold or shape displeases me, I change it, either by trying to manipulate the fabric, or simply by painting it differently, according to my vision.  In that way, you can still say that I control everything in my paintings. So, everything must be approved of by me, but not all is created by me, at least not where fabric is concerned!    

I corrected the composition, and have started the value study for ‘White Vase, 3 Crystals and Cloth.’ I’m struck by how uninspiring the composition is to me in black and white. It’s really all about the color in this one. Of course, the values need to be right, too. Next week, I’ll make any changes I decide on, transfer the drawing to canvas, and begin painting!

There won’t be many glazes on this painting. It will mostly be direct painting with a few glazes for intense color and the few dark areas. I’d love to get the background wall to look like a Vermeer wall. If only I could figure out how to paint one! Sometimes I think that he used a different texture paint- dryer and thicker than modern, fluid paints. A dryer paint would leave a nicer brush mark. As it is, the more fluid paint leaves a pronounced mark, making it difficult to represent a plaster wall. I could smooth out all strokes with a fan brush, but that’s not the look I want, either.

I decided to use a raw sienna underpainting. It adds a nice glow that works well for my paintings done in natural light. All of this cloth is going to be challenging to see and paint! There are so many subtleties of value and color. I find that natural light has this quality much more than artificial. I’m not sure why.

Here is a possible set-up for a new painting. I’d like to do this one in natural light. I like the cool, muted tones. Putting a warm spotlight on it would completely change it. I still need to work on the composition. I don’t like the way so many objects are lined up along the bottom. Also, I don’t like the triangular shape the yellow cloth to the left of the green bowl. I would also intensify the colors. I want the yellow to be more lemony, and the peach cloth to have more chroma. I’d prefer it if my props had the correct colors, but this is what I had!

 

Here I’m showing some of the steps I go through when doing a painting. Starting at the upper left and moving clockwise, the first photo is of a page of photos I took with a digital camera of possible set-ups. I framed the one I liked best with a paper view-finder. I have no photo of the next step, which is to do a detailed pencil drawing of my composition. The second picture is of a black-and-white value study I did in oil  on tracing paper, to better judge the composition, and make any changes I might decide on. The next step shows the canvas, with the drawing transferred onto it, and the beginnings of the underpainting, done in lead white and raw umber. This serves as a guide to future painting, and also provides a unifying color base for the painting, which shows through in the final work. The forth photo shows the first laying down of glazes for the darker areas . In the next one, I have begun to paint in earnest, doing both direct painting and glazing. The final shot is in my studio, showing the set-up and the painting in progress.