Rob Adams a Painter's Blog painter's progress

September 20, 2017


Augmented reality, the media tells us, is the next big thing. They don’t seem to realise that the basic human being has it built in already. The light that bounces off and passes through our exterior world and the photons bouncing around inside our eyeballs have no idea what they might represent. There is no tree photon, or sky photon. They just have amplitudes and wavelengths which we call brightness and colour.

When we do what we call seeing everything obvious comes ready labelled by our image processing system. Houses are houses, trees trees and even things that are obscure are given tentative labels such as scrubland or hedge. We have all had the experience where our heads up display has got it wrong and we realise that there is a building in that clump of trees, or when walking home in the dark when the brain frantically relabels that dark blob as a parked car we are about to collide with rather than a hedge.

The image processing does not stop there. The shadows are lightened the brights are darkened so we can perceive details within those areas. You have all I expect noticed that your sky in a photograph will come out almost white and over exposed if you set the exposure to show detail in the shadows. 80% of the colour you see isn’t there, only a tiny part of the eye, the fovea, sees in colour. Our image processing software paints the rest in. If in tests a red light is put in the peripheral vision, with the subject fixing their attention straight ahead, when the light is changed to green the subject will continue to see it as red.

When looking at our fellow humans the process goes even further, our heads up is supplying age, sex and status information on the fly. It even supplies narrative guesses such as: that group is a family, or those two are a couple. We astonishingly can even work out the mood and emotional state of passers by from their general demeanour.

For the observational painter all this post processing this causes major problems. We see trees labelled as green when they are often a grey brown, we see the sky as blue when it is really a steely grey. As I have mentioned we see the darks as lighter and the brights as darker. The problem is that if you paint the post process version of your perception then when someone else looks at your picture they reprocess the whole thing again. So your darks which you painted too light appear even lighter and the light areas such as the sky duller and not as you had hoped luminous. Your brown trees, which you eyes have made you paint in phthalo green, get a further boost into luridness when viewed by another.

Paint manufacturers don’t help by selling us lots of very bright pigments which we put out on our palettes. Odd really as 95% of our picture is probably going to be brown or grey even if we are painting that day in a funfair. Digital camera manufacturers and before them film manufacturers did and do much the same thing. Most of our cameras process the images we snap so that the greens are a brighter green and the blues of our skies the expected pure bright blue. They also process contrast so that our images are punchy with dark darks and clean whites. What is called properly exposed… the real world is however often not properly exposed and it is that version we need to try to paint.

So if we are to observe the world for purpose of painting it we need to strip away the processing. We do not need to know that the tree is a tree or the house a house. They are just shapes that have a tone and a hue. This is not easy to learn how to do. Even harder is to strip out the tonal adjustments our perception systems make. The best way  I have found is to squint. If you progressively close your eyes down to the thinnest slit possible you will find that the image starts to break down into simple tonal areas. The shadows will coalesce into single areas without interior detail. If you make a small hole in a but of black card and squint through that it makes the process a little easier. Or you can take a snap on your phone with the image effect set to sepia or similar.

The other method I use is to make a small ring with my fingers to look through and flick it quickly between areas. This way you can quickly determine that the darkest colour in that threatening sky is still way brighter than the road that your eyes perceive as quite light. I advise going and getting bits of the world and plonking them on your palette next to the colour that you have mixed for it. This is especially disconcerting with greens. Go and get a leaf from that bright green tree you are painting, you may be surprised!

The aim of all this is to be able to paint the world so that the viewer of the painting does their usual post processing of the visual stimulus supplied by your picture without the overlay of the painter’s own visual system doubling everything up. This will produce a much more nuanced, lifelike and subtle perceptual experience when you picture is looked at.

Detail is another issue. We don’t actually see all that detail. The brain just puts in off the shelf wall paper to fill in the gaps. So that detailed city is not bespoke it is generic. Only if you concentrate on it as you do when painting do all the buildings take on individual character. Many people never actually see the world as it is only as they expect it to be. So when painting if you put in all that detail it looks unreal like a photograph rather than something seen by a living eye. What you need to do is find a generic language of marks that says buildings without being specific. You will be amazed when people compliment you on all that detail which isn’t actually there. So like in the real world their brains filled it in because that is what they expected from the clues you gave them.

The purpose of all this is to give your paintings the immediacy and mystery that looking at the real world through human eyes gives. Nobody after all stops in front of a real scene and says, “Ooh it’s just like a photograph!”

Wellington Clock, Swanage, Dorset, plein air, watercolour, painting

This is the Wellington Clocktower which once graced the end of London Bridge. It was found to be in the way of the traffic and got demolished and rebuilt by the shore in Swanage. We have had wonderful skies lately and this day was no exception. I took a fair few photos as it changed with the idea of doing a studio oil. 12in by 8in watercolour.

Swanage, wellington clocktower, Dorset, oil painting

Here it is. Watercolour is so good a luminosity, but oils are great for solidity and form. I tried to keep the touch light but not to ape a plein air work. One of those paintings that I felt “ho hum” about until it was in its frame where it sprang to life. I think it is paintings with very open edges such as this where a frame allows the feeling of more beyond. 20in by 12in Oils.

Swanage, Dorset, Plein air, oil painting, beach

I’m starting to get a taste for beach paintings, this is Swanage again. The mood has changed now that Autumn is looming and the schools have swept the children and families from the shore. I stretched the view a little left and right perspective wise as a camera would to accentuate the sense of space. I spent about 20min on the town and mid-ground and then battled for 40min doing the beach! Areas that have very little going on can be some of the hardest things to paint. 14in by 10in Oils.

Melbury Hill, Dorset, plein air, oil painting

This was a real quickie as the light faded. It is Melbury Hill from Shaftesbury. Dusk when the sun is below the horizon and there is a cloud cover as well is a very tricky mood to catch. I didn’t really manage it this time but it made me want to go back for another stab at it! 12in by 8in Oils.

Richmond, Thames, oil painting

This was started a couple of years ago when painting with the Wapping Group by the Thames in Richmond. I dug it out of a box and thought it had potential. I remember getting the young lady in and feeling pleased she worked so well even though her legs belonged to another! I then added a couple with a dog going the other way and it all fell apart. Luck has a big part in painting and the couple was obviously pushing mine too far. As soon as I saw it afresh I had the idea to simply remove the doggy couple and just have empty paving. A bit of tidying up and I was quite pleased with the result. 10in by 10in oils.

Weymouth, Dorset, esplanade, plein air, oil painting

To the seaside again! This is Weymouth on a wonderfully dramatic and showery day. A real struggle with the elements so the picture is a bit rough around the edges. On getting home I considered tidying it but decided best not. 10in by 12in Oils.

Weymouth bay, sea, storm, oil painting

Another one from the unfinished pile I am working through. The storm was painted looking across Weymouth Bay about a year ago, but I had tried to paint beach in the foreground and had given up halfway. However on this last visit I had taken a snap of the sea and a not too dissimilar sky which I whacked in across the bottom. Much better with this sea as it adds a touch of colour, the painted out one was rather grey . 14in by 8in Oils.


September 4, 2017


Filed under: Dorset,Painting,Portraits,Watercolour — Tags: , , , , , , , , , — Rob Adams @ 1:26 pm

Our own taste is always good, that of others is less so. There you have the art conundrum in a sentence. We know good taste when we see it, but struggle to find any way of sensibly defining or codifying the property.

So where does our taste come from? From nurture, education and experience is the simple answer. We absorb a lot of taste from out parent’s decor, then if we take an art course the prevailing trends and wisdoms get added on. Our friends follow fads and fashions, based on word of mouth and the media. We develop interests here and there in historical and practical matters. All these influences come to a head when we look at an object or image and decide where it falls relative to our own taste spectra.

There is in every historical era a taste or aesthetics consensus. Those who have positions of cultural power, academic, communicative, administrative or economic, include or exclude trends as they rise to prominence or decline into irrelevance. An example of this might be the moralistic genre painting of the Victorian period. In an era of concern as to the morals of society (or lack of them in the unwashed) it produced paintings and books that addressed these worries. We see them as in bad taste and overly sentimental now so it is hard to imagine them ever being seen as in good taste, but the fact is that they were.

Is our taste any better? Or will our aesthetic consensus be derided in turn by a new age? The answer perhaps is yes, but probably for the last time. The wholesale availability of imagery from cave painting to photograph means that any individual’s possible choices of aesthetic matter are so broad and inclusive as to make the term “good taste” so nebulous as to be irrelevant.

As an artist you are often on the receiving end of other people’s taste. They will have opinions positive or negative depending on their own received aesthetic. So I might be dismissed as “traditional” one moment and be admired for my free mark making the next. No offence, but I have learnt to take both with more than a pinch of salt. After all a culturally sophisticated Victorian might have said to me that I needed more narrative content and scorned my “want of finish” which was a favourite put down of the time.

So is that it, we cannot assemble any aesthetic consensus? I have no answer to that, now an artist’s work is viewable by billions of individuals at the click of a button we perhaps need a new definition. Perhaps a star rating such as Tripadvisor or Amazon. For my own aesthetic star rating I try my best to make my own choices unhampered as much as I can by considerations of historical style or genre. Is it well or skilfully done of its type? If it is of a genre of which I know nothing then I can just leave it undecided.

What I really try my best to avoid is the liking of a work because it chimes with what I do myself or dismissing it because it doesn’t. A lot of feed back from other artists consists essentially of a plea to “paint as I do or as I aspire to do”.  This one cannot but help suspecting is based on insecurity and a desire for reassurance about the relevance of their own work and perhaps cannot to be considered useful constructive feedback.

Some some of my own crimes against taste now…

portrait, oil painting

Done as a present for a friend Mary. A very risky painting as it was a triple family portrait and the recipient is also an artist. No pressure then. I was pretty pleased with the result, this sort of painting often hits a brick wall when one part will not come good and undermines the rest. 12in by 10in Oils.

Shaftesbury, oil painting, plein air, Dorset

This one of Shaftesbury caused me a lot of grief. I repeatedly got the mid ground too light and had to wipe off. Not helped by the cloud shadows zipping over the wide landscape. 12in by 10in Oils.

Broad Chalke, watercolour, Dorset, plein air

I have been rather neglecting the plein air watercolouring so as the weather was favourable I set out to explore the chalk uplands east of Shaftesbury. Great skies and the light is improving as the season gets later. 12in by 7in Watercolour.

Castle rings, Dorset, watercolour, watercolor, plein air

This is Castle Rings near Shaftesbury, actually painted prior to the previous painting. I had managed to forget my brushes so this was painted with a small workout brush I usually use to add high lights to pen drawings with. I actually took to emptying paint onto the paper directly from the palette and then spreading it about! later a painting friend joined me and I was able to swipe one of her brushes. 10in b y 7in watercolour.

Pilsden Pen, Dorset, watercolour, plein air

This is the view from Pilsden Pen. Or should I say the rapidly vanishing view. As soon as I started the cloud rolled in obscuring the wide view. You would never know it but the horizon is about halfway up the picture! 10in by 7in watercolour.

Pilsden Pen, Dorset, watercolour, plein air

Here I am at the top… I waited for the cloud to blow over but it didn’t. I eventually started this to pass the time. As is so often the case once you begin you find more and more interest in the subject. I painted all the dull green shadows first and then laid a wash over the whole lot to establish the atmosphere. The watercolour gods were with me and the risky process worked very well. I had to carry it down carefully in one hand as in the mist drying was just not happening. 10in by 7in Watercolour.

Abbotsbury, Dorset, plein air, watercolour, landscape

Another day out. This is near Abbotsbury. I boldly took on a whole 1/4 sheet. The washes were drying quicker than I wanted so a bit rushed. Watercolour

Kimmeridge, Dorset, sea, landscape, plein air, watercolour

Making the best of the good weather. This is another day out. This is Kimmeridge with the Clavell tower in the distance. A great viewpoint from the path that runs along the escarpment. I will be returning here as it has great possibilities. 1oin by 7in watercolour.

Kimmeridge, Dorset, plein air, painting , watercolour

This is looking West along the same path. The warmer tones are reappearing in the landscape as Autumn approaches which is very welcome. 10in by 6in Watercolour.

Osmington Mills, Dorset, sea, plein air, watercolour, painting

Last one of a lovely day. This is Osmington Mills. The family group out on the rocks were a subject I could not resist. They transform what would other wise be a pleasant but ho-hum scene. 10in by 6in Waterclour.


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