Citizen Sketcher

Any painting marathon is not complete without a public failure.

I really don’t know what I was thinking when I made this. What convinced me to try this image?

It’s absolutely wrong for this series. Completely missing the point of the other pieces. Completely lacking the long views to the horizon that draw you in. Completely the wrong color palette.

This wall of foliage might have some interesting shapes – but it does not compose into a view. It is not a landscape.

If a good landscape can transport you to a place – this composition is bouncing me off. Pushing me out of the picture plane.

So – despite the nice touches of brushwork here and there – this is a failed piece. It’s simply not what I’m looking for in this series.

I figure – if you’re going to fail – fail big! And this is an Epic Fail.

Here’s another video replay of the sketching process.

I find the sketching phase extremely important. Because I’m making the watercolor all-in-one-go, I really need a clear idea of where the lights and darks are before the brush touches paper. I’m not sure it would be possible to make watercolor entirely from nothing. You’d have to be fantastically lucky, or be drawing something you knew absolutely by heart.

Well, I suppose – similar to drawing directly in ink – you’d have to progress with tiny marks at first. Measuring out space, placing elements, and only then closing shapes. I guess – once you put your mind to it you can do anything.

But it’s much easier to just mess around in digital ink! You can push pixels until they’re in the right place.

“I Need a Good Long Walk”, 18×18″ watercolor on paper

Usually, I go back and forth about which I like better – the digital sketch or the watercolor. I think here, the watercolor is the better version.

Though…no…I can still go back and forth. The digital sketch looks like it’s pre-dawn. Where the watercolor is just an overcast day. I’ll have to try a version that’s a real effort at a nocturnal painting.

It’s all going to depend a bit on your monitor. And the lighting in your room. Things that look dark, but still visible, on an iPad can be pitch black on a PC monitor. Its a thing called ‘gamma’ – sort of a contrast setting in the different operating systems. IOS devices have a truly bright screen. And they’re often higher resolution than a laptop or this – my desktop.

That’s one thing about painting irl (in real life). You see, what you see. No wondering what the other person is viewing it on.

~m

I was looking at the work of Chris Dahl-Bredine. He’s a photographer, and the pilot of some kind of odd-looking ultralight aircraft. His Instagram is full of fantastic shots – similar to what we’re becoming used to from drones – but he gets himself up there and sees it first hand.

This one is inspired by one of Chris’ photos. (Unfortunately, I’ve lost the link to the actual shot, but his whole page is worth a look – or a follow!).

I’m not sure why I’ve deviated today from my process – painting from my own sketches.

I suppose the issue is – I’ve never seen this myself, and the moment I did, I wished I had!

My sketches all come from my memory. What else? So – if never seen it, how can I paint it? And if I have seen it, how can I not paint it?

Other people’s work is sometimes an important launching point.

These days, the practice of painting from photos goes somewhat against the grain. We’re told by the art-zeitgeist that every work should be entirely our own creation. As if that was possible. There’s rather too much concern about copyright violations if you ask me. (Which you didn’t). Not that I feel people shouldn’t own their own work, of course, I do. Entirely so, when it comes to commercial use. But I feel – on the other hand – that artists should be able to use anything they see as inspiration. Anything and everything. All of history, and certainly all of the ocean of images that we call the internet. To do otherwise is to ignore the culture we live in.

I wrote about the practicalities of copyright-and-painting at greater length over here.

But! This goes against the grains of my goals for #30×30 – so – I’ll be back to working from my sketches tomorrow :)

“The Falcon Cannot Hear the Falconer”

“The Blood-Dimmed Tide is Loosened”

The sketch for this – just something that appeared – ended up feeling oddly specific to me. I think it’s a recasting of an oil painting I did last year. But its also a memory of a visit to the nearby Coopers Marsh. Though it doesn’t look anything like the work I did on location.

Of note to watercolorists: these paintings – the whole series – use a fair bit of white pigment. Both Titanium White, and a mix from Holbein called Grey of Grey – which is just a dirty white. I’m not even sure why they make it – but I find it attractive so I guess that’s why. A cool grey mix that explodes nicely when placed into wet. If you had to make it from black and white, I suppose you’d be hard pressed to get it as pale as it is.

I know many people don’t use white in their watercolor paintings. Our national watercolor society doesn’t even allow any significant use of opaque pigments in the competition entries. They used to have an arbitrary rule of only 10% opaque pigment allowed. Lately they’ve been saying, opaque pigment must not be a “significant portion of the work”.

Whatever that means.

But of course, the use of mixed whites is completely different than reserving paper. Mixed pigment can bloom and float, and it takes on the color of nearby wet areas. Reserved white will always be hard-edged and overly brilliant.

So, if it’s mist, weather effects, frost or seafoam – or returning white glints to a dark passage – I think watercolorists should reconsider the old-school mentality forbidding white. Just the same as banning black. Nothing should be off limits if it gives you the results you’re looking for.

I have this theory that landscape paintings are a kind of magic teleporter.

When I look at a great painting, I feel like I’m actually there – traveling into the picture plane.

I’m telling myself a little story about wandering down this path towards the seashore, early morning mist sparkling on the water. It’s cold out, and the land is back-lit, pushing everything into shadow. I can see the path wind out of sight, off the edge of the painting and into the dunes. There’s a little inlet here, with the sea out in the distance.

You can create a whole novel imaging yourself traveling through the image.

Perhaps, this was the goal of all the plein air painting I’ve done. To build up a mental library of scenery for future-me to draw upon. Except, I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually been to this place.

~m

I wonder if this one didn’t capture the mood of the sketch? Maybe…maybe not…still debating with myself.

In my mind, looking at the black and white, I was seeing a great green slow-moving river surrounded by jungle, something like the Amazon. Seen from the point of view of a boat drifting downstream. Made me think of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. For me, first encountered as a teenager through the Coppola film Apocalypse Now.

I did a couple more tries, but – ultimately I think this one still has potential that I haven’t captured. Something about it isn’t black and glossy enough for this series.

No worries, there’s always other go.