Early Morning, Paris, 12 x 16 inches, oil on linen
[Edit] I uploaded a more accurate picture. It's much cooler in tone than what I had before. More...February.
Painted from a photo I took a few years ago. I have lots of vacation photos which are just random snapshots that are neither composed nor accidentally good. It's only years and hundreds of views later that suddenly I see potential paintings in them.
Often I really have to work at bridging the gap between a mundane shot and a designed painting; cropping, pushing values, editing visual elements, and altering color. Even then I can't always come up with a good composition. In fact more often than not, I end up abandoning the pursuit after spending an hour with a photo and a sketchbook and the computer.
What helps, sometimes, is recognizing a certain narrative in the image. In this case I saw the figure standing at the light, (as I was, at that moment) thought about what his story was. Was he taking a leisurely stroll in the early morning while the town was still quiet? Was this a routine for him? And if it were, did he notice the height of the shadow changing each day as he stood at the light at the same time every morning? I think I would. Then again, that's the sort of thing I look for in the first place.
The point of this exercise is to compose a picture around an idea, a concept, and not merely a depiction of an intriguing view. With a clear concept, the subsequent design decisions are purposeful and logical. When editing or altering a visual element, I only need to ask myself "does this help tell my story more effectively?". If the answer is no, then I seriously need to consider taking it out, however interesting that element might be.
Just another iteration of the mantra, "Paint the concept. Nothing more.)
Painted from a photo I took a few years ago. I have lots of vacation photos which are just random snapshots that are neither composed nor accidentally good. It's only years and hundreds of views later that suddenly I see potential paintings in them.
Often I really have to work at bridging the gap between a mundane shot and a designed painting; cropping, pushing values, editing visual elements, and altering color. Even then I can't always come up with a good composition. In fact more often than not, I end up abandoning the pursuit after spending an hour with a photo and a sketchbook and the computer.
What helps, sometimes, is recognizing a certain narrative in the image. In this case I saw the figure standing at the light, (as I was, at that moment) thought about what his story was. Was he taking a leisurely stroll in the early morning while the town was still quiet? Was this a routine for him? And if it were, did he notice the height of the shadow changing each day as he stood at the light at the same time every morning? I think I would. Then again, that's the sort of thing I look for in the first place.
The point of this exercise is to compose a picture around an idea, a concept, and not merely a depiction of an intriguing view. With a clear concept, the subsequent design decisions are purposeful and logical. When editing or altering a visual element, I only need to ask myself "does this help tell my story more effectively?". If the answer is no, then I seriously need to consider taking it out, however interesting that element might be.
Just another iteration of the mantra, "Paint the concept. Nothing more.)
2 comments:
I think the lighting is wonderful, and I really like the composition of the building, and then the man waiting at the light. However, what distracts me from "his story," his location, and the time of day, is the the left-hand turn sign and, to a lesser degree, the car.
Good point, Holly~ The stuff at the left edge is rather strong. Originally, I had nothing there but the fast angle perspective was making the eye fall off the edge, so I needed a "stopper". As I built it up, I realized that my little figure became the least conspicuous element in the picture, and I thought his insignificant place in the visual hierarchy reflected his story (as I saw it).
Then again, sometimes you can overdo an idea to the point of obscurity, and I may have overdone it here.
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