David Gordon Paintings Blog

This is another small, spontaneous painting. It has been in my studio for a few weeks and has many layers of paint. It’s called “Deep Geology” because it reminds me of layers of earth. Its color also reminds me of the lightness of robin eggs so there is some contrast of ideas.

Five minute pose

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Twenty minute pose

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Fifteen minute pose

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This week I continued to pay attention to the unity of values and how they bring the form together as a single, coherent element. This is most evident in the first image (the five minute pose).

I then became involved in a different focus. I suddenly realized that when I came to understand what I was seeing, I didn’t have to focus much attention on what I was doing. Instead of paying close attention to the lines and marks that I was making, I looked and thought about what I was seeing – the model and her proportions, the gradations of value and the planes. I also attempted to remember that the model was a person, and as Nicolaides suggested, I imagined what it would feel like to hold the pose she was in. With that awareness, the very fast and spontaneous marks that I made, seemed to really describe the model!

I wanted to follow up on the subject of unity and on the techniques and ways of seeing that I learned from my painting teacher, Kaji Aso. I discussed this in an earlier post.

Anne brought home some beautiful tulips and put one of them in the ceramic dragon vase. I had to paint it.

I followed the watercolor technique that I learned from Mr. Aso. I started with light washes of yellow, yellow being the brightest color, the one that most “comes out”. Yellow is followed by rose then red or light green and lastly blue. This order is not set it stone. It is based on the principle of first using colors that radiate out and then grounding them with colors that sink back. I mixed some colors to get the darkest darks, but mixing was never advocated by Mr. Aso, only layering.

I have to admit that I cleaned up the background of the photo with Photoshop. There was some stray yellow from that first layer.

Picasso supposedly said that a painting is finished when it’s sold. In the movie about Jackson Pollock he was asked, “how do you know when a painting is finished?” Pollock answered with another question, “how do you know when you’re finished making love?” I have been working on, and posting about this painting for about five weeks! I worked and reworked each figure and face while gradually developing the city scape in the background. I gained insight into my working process with the realization that, as much as it would feel more comfortable to have the composition completely worked out ahead of time, that kind of practice would not be satisfying for me. I seem to need to start by just getting the seed idea out there in all it imperfection, and then bringing the pieces together and working out the details, learning about and imagining various elements as I go. I’ve reached the point where I look at the painting and there is nothing more that I am drawn to do. That could change as I continue to look at it over the next weeks and months – or at least until it sells. Here is a 2 minute slide show/video that documents the painting at its various stages.

I can accidentally come back to a drawing approach that I had forgotten about and rediscover its virtues in a deeper way. It can seem cyclical. On Sunday I started the drawing session using the side of a broken piece of graphite about an inch long. I worked the short, one minute poses placing touches rather than making lines.  Here are two of the short poses.

I touched all around the body very quickly and was surprised to find that I had the feeling of capturing something of the essence of the head, torso and limbs in just a few marks. This was enough to inspire me to use the same technique for longer poses in which case I was able to keep adding layers of marks to build up the forms. There is something about placing marks rather that drawing lines that makes me see in a different way. perspective becomes more intuitive and the sense of form becomes heightened. I continued to work quickly circling through the figure again and again. Here are two ten minute poses.

The teachings of my Japanese painting teacher came back to me. I was creating images that were very unified as a single element. This was a concept the Kaji Aso worked very hard to get across to his students. It is difficult to explain but actually pretty simple. The darks and lights of the whole form work together and define each other. They do not need lines contain them. The whole figure is like a single drop of water that is held together and made one by some invisible force. Below on the right is the drawing from my session that best exemplifies this unity. On the left is an ink painting by Kaji Aso.

At this point I feel that I am pretty far along in the painting, so it is somewhat disheartening to find a major compositional flaw that I won’t be able to live with. Oil paint is a very malleable medium so I know I can change almost anything, but it is disconcerting to realize that I have come this far without noticing something so major. I am aware of techniques and ways of planning out a painting that would make these gaps less likely to occur, but I find that these techniques dampen or eliminate the sense of spontaneity that is so important to me. I am learning that my creative process requires me to build as I go rather than plan everything ahead of time. There is a sense of creating a little chaos in order to take the vision from the inside out onto the canvas. Then there is a reshaping a refining and a bringing together.

The compositional flaw that I am referring to is the emptiness behind the man on the left hand side of the canvas. The straight line of the wall points directly out of picture and leaves a void. I discovered the problem by employing a simple trick that I have found invaluable over the years; I looked at the painting in a mirror. I have a 8 X 10 inch mirror, covered with finger prints of paint in my studio. I guess that when I look so intensely at a painting for so long, I start to see it the way I want to see it instead of how it actually is. The flip of the mirror jars me out of that illusion and I suddenly see the painting in a different light. Now that I am working with Photoshop, I also can flip a digital image of the painting horizontally and create the same jarring effect.

I’ve been working with Photoshop all morning trying to find the best solution. The images below are, first, the canvas as it is right now, second, that image flipped horizontally, and third, the painting with the changes that I made in Photoshop. Now that I feel good about where I am headed, I just need to paint the changes.

Here is result of another unplanned, creative process that I like to work with. When I am cleaning my pallet, I scrape off the paint with a pallet knife and spread it on a canvas. I often have several canvases on the go in my studio and and just keep working on them like that until I see a direction I want to move in. Then I start squeezing out the paint. This particular painting is has been developing for about a month and I finally finished it last  night. (I think it’s finished, but I may still see changes that I want to make.)

I worked on the Rooftop Dancers all morning instead of going to life drawing. It is feeling like a slow process. There are so many elements that I am bringing together: the faces, hands, position, the buildings and the light. It was a good morning. I worked steadily and like the changes I made but at lunch, I realized how much more work is required. Sometimes it feels like it is taking too long, but I am also happy to keep working away.

Drawing or painting without plan can be an excellent way to build interest and energy and to get the creative juices flowing. I come back to this again and again especially when I feel uninspired or have no idea what I want to paint. I simply begin with some marks or a spontaneously chosen color; I may focus on a movement connected with an emotion or the movement may seem completely random. I continue to make marks without a plan while paying attention to what is taking shape. Sometimes I begin to see a potential image and choose to bring it out. A narrative may develop. Sometimes the work remains completely abstract. Surprisingly often something comes out that surprises me and really speaks to me; other drawing or paintings say nothing and are eventually discarded. Many can stand on their own as art pieces, and some are used as references for larger paintings.

I enjoy doing a few consecutive, ten minute (approximately) drawings using this method and sometimes bring the technique into larger and more time intensive paintings or paintings. A series of one minute drawing on card size paper can be just what I need to see new possibilities.  The paintings and drawings below came out of this process. The mediums and sizes vary and are listed below each work.

“Patterns in Nature” 5 X 7 in. Oil on Canvas

“Angel of the Harvest” 11 X 14 in. Graphite on Paper

“Unwanted Visitor” 11 X 14 in. Graphite on Paper

“Unplanned Watercolor” 11 X 9 in. Watercolor on Paper

“Ancient River Bank City” 36 X 48 in. Oil on Unstretched Canvas

I go to a figure drawing group every Sunday morning. There is no instruction, just a group of artists who share the expense of a model and studio. Here are two of my favorites from this week. The first is a twenty minute pose and the second half an hour. The medium is graphite and charcoal.