For Tracy Michele, who always sees them first.
"I wish you to consider that I have been speaking of what I wished to accomplish in these pictures, rather than what I have done; for I may have failed in these efforts. I should, nevertheless, be much gratified if you could see them ...."
- Thomas Cole, letter dated May 1828

Monday, June 29, 2009

patience and impatience


"Now I am again in such a period of struggle and discouragement, of patience and impatience, of hope and desolation. But I must struggle on, and after a time I shall know more about making water colors. If it were easy, there would be no fun in it. And it is the same with painting."
--- Vincent van Gogh to his brother Theo, January, 1882
The Complete Letters of Vincent van Gogh: Vol. I, New York Graphic Society, 1959

I have focused my efforts on watercolor lately (besides drawing, which is always a part of what I do) because of its appeal to me as a more immediate type of painting material. No painting material is not immediate. But my approach lately feels particularly suited to watercolor. There is a sort of reverse thinking that comes into practice with this technique, leaving the whites white and working down into other colors and values, which is in contrast to the way oil painting is often handled where one works up to white (though I don’t usually work that way in oil, anyway.) But along with this process of starting out with the lightest values and working towards the darkest, I am also trying to simplify the composition without losing anything important.

It can be difficult to control this medium and push it to its maximum effect without going over the line and losing what has been worked on. I am experimenting with different papers and there is a lot of information to keep track of, besides simply putting in the time on it every day (which doesn’t happen, I admit). Painting seriously is a lot of hard work. To do it with sincerity, with a desire to learn and improve, is a great effort.

Besides this I’m often left with the sense that I haven’t started at the right place, that something critical has been overlooked, that I have to return to an earlier point to find the place I should pick up at. What I haven’t gained is a sense of a logical progression, or reduction (these aren’t contrary to each other), yet I do feel I have a better handle on my work than I used to. The past two years have been beneficial.

The outlying areas of central and southern New Jersey, where I grew up, afford some really beautiful views --- broad, flat, almost abstracted patterns of various muted colors and values, especially on those really lovely overcast days. I’ve always been fascinated by them and have been trying my hand at painting their essential visual qualities. I may continue to work on this, as I haven’t really determined what is essential and what is extraneous.