Friday, November 19, 2010

Painting my portrait: things I know on some level but have to experience to internalize

I've spent the last several weeks working on a self-portrait on and off. I started with a realistic goal: do a small head study. But before I knew it I was creating the first in the grief/end-of-life series I've been planning to paint for years, developing a 20x30 charcoal drawing of me hugging my arms to my chest. Hey, sounds tough, but I can do this, right -- wish I'd done a few more of those memory drawing exercises. I'm getting close to the end now, and this is what I have learned about the process (outside of physically putting paint on canvas):

1. When you reach a certain point in the charcoal drawing that looks good, but not totally accurate (especially when that imperfect area is a hand and then particularly the hand you are painting with), IGNORE THE IMPULSE TO TRANSFER THE IMAGE TO PAINTING. Take the time to really work out the problems in advance. This will save you grief, I promise. I've found myself scraping paint off the canvas on more than one occasion, and completely reworked the same area three times.

2. Sitting close to the mirror may be necessary to see detail -- standing would be easier because you can back up more easily -- but affects perspective and our ability to accurately judge what we are seeing. The angle from elbow to elbow appeared different from just slightly above than when viewed from a distance, and I spent three-fourths of the painting time with one too-long arm and not understanding how to fix it. It's hard to get distance to see the whole, especially when sitting. Taking a photo from a distance and then flipping it in Photoshop so you are seeing what you see in the mirror makes a good reference to give you that whole/distant view from time to time. I recommend doing this in the beginning rather waiting until well into the painting. :(

3. Lighting has been a HUGE issue for me. First, my windows face southeast, so the sun moves across the sky as I paint (which wasn't that much of a problem earlier in the year, but now the sun is so low that it shines in my eyes). Second, when I began there was much more daylight, so I was painting in the afternoon. Sunset is at 4:05pm today, and by 2:00 it is really either too dark to paint comfortably and get good color; OR the sun is shining through a second window that I generally only keep a white-colored (or no) curtain over, and then all my lighting is off -- or more accurately, ON. Also, I put the easel on the left because I am left-handed and it blocks the lower half of the window I am sitting next to, but on dark days -- of which there seem to be many in London -- I have had to use a daylight bulb (screwed into a bendy desk lamp with a piece of paper taped about it to direct the light, and attached to the easel with a giant clamp) or shifted the easel to the right side. I could face the opposite direction with everything, but then the mirror is getting more light than I am. It's a regular circus act. Solution: (besides don't set up something this complicated going into winter) stay flexible or go to artificial light?

4. Doing extra reading/sketches/research as I've been painting has been really helpful. I've started a file of large-sized images (love the Google!) of paintings I like, and periodically go and stare at parts of paintings in museums. I'll pick a topic like eyes or expression or shadow colors, and then only stop in front of pieces that show me something I like about that particular thing. I've spent a few hours in a coffee shop reading about and copying sketches of hands. I've stood in a bookshop and read entire chapters of a book on facial expression. I've brought home dozens of library books and always have a small stack on hand to flip through. I never schedule or force these things, they seem to come out of frustration from not being able to capture on canvas the thing in my head. Perhaps it would be wiser to schedule them, but I never know what the next challenge will be. What did Cyd always say? The eye sees it, the mind understands it, and the hand paints it. The research part of things has really facilitated my understanding of things.

5. As much as I would like to think about what the finished product will look like, I really really try to let myself go and focus on the here and now. Who cares how it turns out or if it will be show worthy (I say in a faltering voice -- hey, it isn't easy to do)! Take the time to learn and let yourself screw up, to push things too far. Maybe this painting won't make it into my series, but the next time I work on  this theme or another portrait it will be that much better. It's tough to let go, but things move along much faster. No fear of "ruining" things.

6. I had hoped to have the painting finished today. But that was working on the assumption that I would stick to a schedule and did not include days off due to lighting issues or a myriad of other (sometimes plausible) excuses (in my defense, it took a while to sort out the daylight bulb thing, especially trying to avoid the cost by piecing together my own system). Truth is, if I had a regularly scheduled model, I'd paint rain or shine and work with what I had. It would be better to treat myself as a model, stick to scheduled appointments and even give myself 5-minute breaks within the time slots.

Whatever the end result, I will unveil the painting in the near future. And I'll be so much better equipped the next time around. I'll keep you posted!

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