Painting with a big brush and lots of paint

My formal study of art has included undergraduate and graduate studies in painting and drawing as well as workshops and classes, but the most important lessons I have gleaned from my conversations with artist friends and mentors. Along the path to artistic enlightenment I have heard many phrases such as: "...have a dominant vertical element in your composition." and "...the most important compositional lines are those of the format." My early years on this artistic journey were brought with frustration as I tried to decipher these obviously important nuggets of wisdom.

Like most sage advice the true meaning is elusive, and the artist comes to understand layers of meaning over time versus meteoric epiphany all in one momentous occasion. Perhaps most mystical complex to me were the lessons of composition. I knew early on that the traditional approach of teaching 2-D design via the elements and principles of art was like teaching a child to eat by sitting the toddler down to a lecture on enzymes and chemical breakdown of nutrients in the human digestive system. It took hundreds of brush and pencil miles to learn what I dint know, and to begin to ask the right questions. The real task was to not forget the original nuggets from my early education as I attained more tactile ability to express with paint. The ability to make accurate representations of things eventually came with some ease, but the creation of something more, something more emotive and powerful still danced far away on distant horizon of my comprehension.

Like many of you I discovered the power of real or implied line to lead the eye, and I became painfully aware of tangents and how they distract the eye. The rule of thirds made sense. Keep things away from the middle of your format and try to make your focal point pop by using the highest contrast in that place on the canvas. I painted happily for several years and most of the time found a level of success following the strategies I had learned (earned) by seeking knowledge and putting in the paint miles, but as time moved along I discovered through my constant reading about and looking at art that paintings can be more. A chance comment by an Australian artist friend stopped me in my tracks and caused a stir of reflection. She stated, " JR your oils are lovely, but your watercolors are full of emotion and story."

I was in the midst of my MFA program when this simple message appeared in my InBox. I stopped everything. Oils were my focus, watercolors were what I did for me-when I had time. What did she mean? I pulled out a number of my watercolors and placed them on the floor of my studio along with various oils and in hardly anytime at all I saw some fairly obvious things. First, the watercolors were constructed of 3-5 simple large shapes. The overall color schemes were very harmonious with one color which was often a light discord and generally where I considered the focal point of the piece. I used horizontals, verticals, and diagonals, but one was much more dominant than the others. The watercolors were did not rely on photo reference and were generally created on location or from sketches made from location, and as I recalled most of the watercolors began as a result of an overwhelming sensation or emotive quality I felt about the location I was about to paint. I made an immediate decision to change my approach to my use of oil, I began to use a color palette based upon a plan and I designed the image much more carefully rather than trying to record just what I saw. 

Today, as I write this article I am thinking about how vertical elements often suggest human figures, how horizontals suggest the landscape, and how diagonals create tension, movement, and quickly move the eye. I reflect on how the great wildlife artist Bob Kuhn used bands of color in his skies an landscapes, and how Stephen Quiller and Clyde Aspevig relate painting the landscape to music-rhythm, syncopation and beat. The elements and principles of design are no longer vocabulary words to be memorized and applied to study disection of masterworks, rather they are words which propel me and act as passageways between my medium of paint and the creation of artifice. All painting is a lie, but with the passing of time and brush mileage the lies are more mine than ever and I find a deeper truth the more I push forward.

My recent painting, "Wilson Peak Wisdom" is about the journey to learn composition and the creation of art. The trees, tall and dominant and suggestive of living beings in harmony with Wilson Peak and the autumnal vegetation. The bands in the sky and mid-distance place you firmly in the tradition of landscape, while the diagonals of the distant aspen move your eye to the majesty of the peak, frosted in snow-the promise of a verdant and abundant spring. Paintings are more, each tells a story. Our journey of learning yields are ability to tell the story in our individual fashion. Continue the journey with me, study hard, don't settle with the basic knowledge of your design classes and push further.

As always I thank you for taking the journey with me. 

JR Monks