She Wasn’t Alone

I used to resist working from photographs. They filter out information and present biased records of reality. Painting directly from life gives an artist the opportunity to gradually find richer details, tones, and colors. One discovers worlds within worlds, information hiding in plain sight. But I’ve recently found that good photographs can also be rich sources of exploration. They also offer surprises.

A student recently commissioned a double portrait. She gave me a photo of a friend holding her granddaughter. I began with a brush drawing and a block-in of basic color shapes. I diluted the oil paint to make it semi-transparent. The canvas had been a rejected portrait by another artist, so some features from the former painting peep through (notice the two staring eyes on the girl’s neck). I worked on the grandmother’s face next, then developed the woman’s hair. After that, I worked on the girl’s head and body correcting proportions as I moved down the canvas (note the smaller hand in the last photo). Finally, I worked on the woman’s arm and the background.

The halfway point is near, and as usual, some parts please while others worry me. But I have time to fix mistakes, to make final adjustments in colors, contours, and proportions. I know from experience that a portrait rarely reaches completion before periods of struggle.

A student told me yesterday that her drawing had turned out better than anticipated. She said that the early stages had left her discouraged. A good drawing snapped into focus during the last half hour. I told her that most complicated projects look bad at some point, that faith in the process leads to good results. I also said that even if a drawing turns out badly, it paves the way for better work in the future.

I added that I still go through moments of doubt. I pointed to a demo portrait of Robert Mitchum I’d been working on for a while. I said that I had finally figured out and fixed three mistakes. The changes made the portrait come into a better likeness.

Mitchum, compressed charcoal, 17×14″

She seemed relieved: she wasn’t alone in doubting her work and abilities.

Faculty Show 2021

Judy and I drove to Valencia today to see a faculty show. I have four paintings in the exhibition but hadn’t gotten a chance to see them on site.

Mine hung together on two walls near a corner. When I saw them, I had the usual reaction: pieces I considered somewhat weak looked stronger than previously favored paintings; I wished that I could take them down and rework passages that now looked awkward. Judy reassured me that they looked fine and said that the largest oil appealed to her now that it hung in a larger space.

The show featured a wide range of media including prints, sculpture, conceptual photography, painting, and ceramics. Artists working in the same medium exercised their talents in opposing styles. I saw abstract, semi-abstract, and realistic paintings and drawings.

Some works had a conceptual bent. They featured imagery that repeated with variations in grid compositions.

The ceramicists made bowls and plates decorated by shell forms and nature imagery (a bird, leaves on stems).

Two sculptors exhibited shallow relief wall pieces featuring layered forms. A third showed ceramics that looked like mineralized fossils or the fragmented remnants of geological events.

The arrangement of the show felt harmonious despite the varied styles and media. The curator took time to find formal connections between separate bodies of work. And low-level lighting created a subdued mood throughout the exhibition.

As we walked back to our car, I felt an urge to see more work by individual artists in the show. I’d only gotten quick tastes of each exhibitor’s work. However, one-person shows of a faculty member’s work have rarely graced the gallery. Internal conflicts would ensue if some professors received the opportunity while others did not.

The curator wisely bestows solo shows only to outside artists. If I want to see more, I’ll have to go elsewhere.

Critical Self-Judgment

A student in a Valencia class had a strong tendency to obsess over details while losing track of a drawing’s over all structure.  Individual bits looked great, but they didn’t coalesce into a unified whole.  One day, she worked madly on a drawing near the end of class.  She realized that time had run short, that it would be difficult to finish.  I told her that she’d gotten sidetracked once again on minutia and suggested that she address compositional issues instead.  She fumed and said, “I did it again!  Why do I always do the same thing?”  She looked frustrated enough to punch herself in the face.

I paused to let her cool down then said, “There’s nothing wrong with you.  You produce beautiful drawings.  You just have this tendency to get stuck in detail.  If you’re aware of it, you can work around it…Beating yourself up doesn’t help.”

She studied me carefully to see whether I meant what I said.  Then she relaxed and went back to work.  She didn’t finish the drawing but drew calmly till the end of class.

I’ve been in her position and still lapse into harsh self-criticism when I fail.  I know from experience that self-inflicted wounds make matters worse.  When my inner drill sergeant starts delivering angry reprimands to me, progress becomes impossible.

My granddaughter Ava has just turned one.  I watch her learn more about walking, talking and interacting with others each day.  She falls frequently.  She says a few words at appropriate moments but mostly jibber-jabbers.  She looks at me sometimes with total incomprehension when I try to play games with her but remembers more and more how to participate.  She gets frustrated ever so often but mostly seems to enjoy building new skills and discovering new things.  She’s not aware that critical self-judgment exists.

I’m not a free spirit like Ava.  My conditioning made harsh self-criticism an act of piety.  Taking stock does give me a realistic appraisal of my current state.  But drifting into self-loathing skews my viewpoint and prevents me from learning from mistakes.  (How can a “total idiot” learn anything?) 

I am a work in progress dealing with a constantly shifting world.  I have tendencies both helpful and destructive.  If I remain aware of them, I can work with and around them.  And when frustration builds, I’ll try to remember that self-hatred hasn’t ever made me a better person.  And I’ll refrain from punching myself in the face.