The Big Dipper, 18 x 54 inches, oil on linen
(Click on image to see it larger)
Here's a painting that I've been working on for a while. I thought it was finished months ago, but something was bugging me and I couldn't figure out why at the time so I just set it aside till the answer came to me.
Last week I realized what the problem was; it was too pretty. Too much color for my taste. So I knocked it back with a dark glaze, and repainted most of it – more tonally this time. I like it a lot better. It's moodier, but it's not dark overall, and the saturated color is limited to yellow. There are reds and greens working here too, but they've been pushed toward yellow.
I find compositions and new variations on a theme this way quite often. Many a time I get excited when an unexpected composition presents itself, just begging to be made into a painting. The problem is that while the new composition may be pictorially interesting, even superior, sometimes it loses the original intent of the image. To me, a composition is all about arranging and orchestrating visual elements in order to effectively communicate an idea. Without an idea to communicate, a composition is not a composition. It would be like talking without saying anything. Just pointless chatter.
A found composition will sometimes tell a different story that I hadn't noticed in the original picture. Sometimes I'll go with it and develop it further, but other times, I know in my heart that I'm just rationalizing an accidental find. When it comes to painting, I like everything I do to be intentional. I do occasionally have "happy accidents" in my studies and I use them as learning tools, but when I'm composing and building an image, there's no room for accidents.
This roller coaster painting, incidentally, did not lose any of the original idea. It works for me because it effectively communicates my original idea, just in a different format.
7 comments:
Such an old time amusement park feel to this piece with the colors you did use, Terry. I love it and the elongated width is spot on for this subject.
Thanks~ The roller coaster is based loosely on the woodie in Santa Cruz, so yes, it's old. But I'm glad the old time "feel" came across :-)
Who would've thought that a roller coaster would make a good subject, but it certainly looks good here. Maybe I should put away what I'm working on now and come back to it later...just can't seem to get it. I think you do wonderful work, Terry.
The keyed down colours look so much better. The attention now get drawn to the other qualities of the painting too like great value structure, perfect drawing and the moody evening feel to the entire piece.
Best wishes.
Thanks Lokelani! Thanks Vinayak!
I like rollercoasters but they don't like me. It seems I'm at an age where my equilibrium is not what it used to be. So I don't ride them anymore. I just paint them!
Love this Terry (I liked it before too)! Did painting a new layer on top of the dried layer pose any problems? I know a lot of people avoid going back in and painting on top of dried paint but I find I have to do it quite often when painting larger sizes. Just curious how your experience was. I'm a big fan of your work!
Thanks Eden!
For smaller paintings, I prefer not to do too much once the painting is dry. I just like that virgin oil-primed linen so much better than the dried painted surface. Of course I sometimes have to fix things later but I try to keep that to a minimum.
For big paintings, like you say, it's just part of the game, I think. There's no way I can do a big painting in one sitting, so yes I have to paint on top of dried layers. But this is a process toward a goal, (as opposed to making an entirely new painting on top of a failed one) so the layers are intended to work with each other. When I work on top of dried paint, I try not to kill the underlayers entirely. I try to let some of it show, or make use of the built up texture to my advantage. Processes like glazing and staining have to be done on a dried surface, so there's no point in fighting it. Better to take advantage of what might otherwise be considered annoyances.
I just accept the fact that my big paintings are going to end up rather chunky, and try to make it intentionally chunky rather than overworked to cover mistakes.
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