Rob Adams a Painter's Blog

October 14, 2014

Distractions

Do you find that everyday chores and responsibilities get in the way of painting? Even someone like myself with no family responsibilities finds it hard to get “easel time”. I take my hat off to those that manage it with job, house and kids to juggle with. Often I find these interruptions are painting related. I have to take paintings to galleries, attend private views, write blogs, I have just spent 3 days framing! I have a painting that has been sitting for 2 weeks on my easel waiting to be finished off, but I haven’t been able to find the 4 hours that would take. It does however have a lovely frame… This is exacerbated recently by moving to the country. An old house to refurbish, studio to build at the bottom of the garden, it all eats time. As I am about to hit 60 time is all the more precious.

I wonder in reflective moments if I had painted for all the hours I watched telly, or more recently floated round the inter web, over the years just how many more paintings I would have got done. Also having done them, how much better at the whole business would I be? The odd thing is I can get up and paint all day without interruption if I am doing an illustration for a client, but find it harder to do that for myself. I suppose that if you don’t get the commercial job done there will be immediate consequences but if you don’t finish that landscape then no one will tick you off!

I think I ought to implement an organised regime, but am not sure I have the will power to stick to one. Even if I set a regime of 5hrs a day 5 days per week I would I suspect still improve my output. Twenty five hours, I doubt if I am making 15hrs at present. Discounting commercial work of about 10 weeks leaves 46 weeks in the year so 690hrs of painting time. I have completed 200 works of various kinds. So I am being a bit unkind as I think maybe an average of 4 hrs per work including studies, preparation and finding subjects on location. Which means I have put in about 800hrs of painting and drawing this year or about 20 forty hour weeks.

Exactly why I feel I have to put in this labour is another matter. I am fortunate in that I do just enough commercial work to feed and keep me. Many I feel artists overstate the importance of their art in order to legitimise the work they produce as being the result of some irresistible drive. Mostly we tend to look upon obsessive behaviour as a negative thing, but if you are an artist then you can wear such behaviour on your sleeve. I don’t think I am obsessed, I have said before I could stop painting and just write or play music, but what pushes me along in interest and fascination. The more I learn the more I wish to learn.

So here is what I have got done despite distractions! A mixed bunch, but I feel it is important to post the misses as well as the ones nearer to the target.

 

Queenborough, Sheppey, Kent, Oils, Brass Monkeys, plein air

This is Queenborough on the isle of Sheppey. A very fine day out with the Brass Monkeys. This was such fun to paint and unusually I took it to a finish on site. 14in by 10 in Oils.

 

Queenborough, Sheppey, Kent, drawing, brass monkeys

Queenborough again, very pleased with this one. Pen and ink 9in by 7in.

 

Royal Hill, Greenwich, Brass Monkeys, London, oils, plain air

Another Brass Monkey day. This is Royal Hill in Greenwich. 10in by 16in oils.

 

Greenwich, London, Observatory, park, brass monkeys, oil painting

Very quick sketch of the Observatory in Greenwich park, not one to take any further but fine as a sketch. 10in by 10in oils.

 

Isleworth, watercolour, Wapping Group, Thames

This is Isleworth on the Thames. My heart wasn’t really in this it doesn’t have a natural focus. With plein air it is sometimes impossible to juggle all the requirements that make a good picture, but sketches I feel have a charm of their own. 10in by 8in, watercolour.

 

Isleworth, London, London Apprentice, drawing, pub

This is Isleworth again on the river terrace at The London Apprentice.

 

Shaftesbury, Golden Hill, Dorset, Pen and Ink, drawing

This is the famous Gold Hill in Shaftesbury in Dorset. This is the “standard lazy view” but I hope to return and find a few more original angles! Pen and ink A4.

 

Lastly a few life drawings, I have found a new group in Dorset so will be able to keep up the figure work which is wonderful.

Life drawing

 

Life drawing

 

Life drawing

 

Life drawing

The above are 5min each. The village hall where the session is held has wonderful light so I am looking forward to future days.

 

Life drawing

30min

 

The model view was no good so I sneakily did one of my fellow artists! That’s it for this episode, there may be a bit of a gap asI am rather thinly spread of late!

September 12, 2014

The perils of perfection

Filed under: Dorset,London,Painting,Thames,Uncategorized,Watercolour — Tags: , , , , , , , , , — Rob Adams @ 10:47 am

I have always been interested in big questions. What we are doing here etc. As I have read and lived longer I no longer expect answers but rather find the questions engaging for their own sake. Reading about philosophy, religion and science have been an abiding interest my whole life.

I tend to focus on the world in which I find myself rather than my own internal workings. I have meditated and it has taught me that I am possibly the least interesting thing in my own world. I have gazed at my navel and found it distinctly dull! Initially everything as far as I can see comes from the outside in. You can give out no reaction into the world other than a reaction to what has been previously perceived. Yes, I’m afraid we are back to painting… That damn silly idea that we are somehow painting what is within us.

To make it absolutely clear. As far as I can see everything you emote, paint, write or crochet was prompted by external influence. You only processed the information, gave it back a little changed or perhaps garbled. You might say gave it back as a reflection seen dimly in a flawed mirror. You can perhaps glean a little of the painter from a painting it could maybe say a little about out inner nature, but the hints and clues are encoded into the imperfections of what we create when we echo back our perceptions on to canvas.

So here we go, this post’s idea. Imperfections are sometimes a good thing. Firstly we all find it hard to relate to perfection. Those stark modernist interiors so loved by architects seem made for some other more ideal, tidier person than ourselves. The obsessive recreations of photographs which seem to me to have little resonance other than the marvelling at the patience of the artist and whatever charms the original image had. Perfectly executed abstracts with no indecision to be seen are like a door shut in my face.

To consider the obverse for a moment there is also a problem with those works which are all imperfections through lack of intent or skill. A resonant imperfection is perhaps an aiming high and falling short or hitting a another part of the target than that which was aimed for. Wildly throwing stuff over your canvas is telling others very little about the artist, only about the nature of randomness or the physics of falling and dribbling paint. Many seem to think that expressiveness is caused by the vigour of the application and the suppression of the intellect. Such a work may well be decorative and exciting to behold, but only has a subtext that the viewer brings to it not what the creater imbued it with. A work of art is not a certainty expressed but more of an uncertainty made flesh.

Making a work of art is always I feel treading on the edge of what is possible for an individual human being to achieve. Un-intuitively if you set yourself a goal that simple enough to be actually achievable then you have I suspect by definition already failed.

I often hear painters referring to the work of others as too tight, or “Tight as a duck’s arse.” There might be no element in the painting wrong but still there is no life. What it really means is that if everything is resolved then there is no mystery for the imagination of the viewer to dwell in. Excessive clarity and certainty lock the viewer out, they can view but not inhabit the painting. I have been wondering of late why this is so and come to a few tentative conclusions.

We do not for the most part perceive things accurately, it would take up too much processing power. So what we do is look for discontinuities. If something is vaguely plausible then the eye will accept it, but if it somehow falls outside those bounds it draws more attention as a potential risk area. When this ability to sort the seen environment developed it was, I am guessing, for spotting problems and threats, not looking at paintings. However I think much the same happens with a made image. If you take an abstract, say in the manner of Barnet Newman, then spray a representational face in one corner, that face will destroy the abstract qualities and a hue and cry will duly follow. Adding another stripe while the museum attendant isn’t looking could be missed for weeks or longer. The first is incongruous the second in keeping.

When you paint an observed image of a city the same sort of thing occurs. A variation in the style of the windows will pass unnoticed but an inaccuracy in the perspective will cause unease. When you paint a scene there is a locus of position and other attributes that lies within the possible, but if you overstep those bounds then it will feel wrong to the veiwer. This is not necessarily something to be avoided it is more of a tool to be aware of and exploit. The more an image is defined the more the possibility of some part feeling wrong increases and also the further it gets from the way we actually perceive the world.

This is the reason I find over defined figures feel stiff and can look frozen in place. If the flower garden you paint is too perfect then it feels as if the wind could never blow nor birds fly. As I get older my paintings seem to get untidier. This is partly reducing patience but also because I fear killing the painting by overworking. It is better I have discovered to stop early than to go on until it has no life!

Not so many paintings as I have been busy painting house walls white rather than pictures.

 

Southwark, London, plein air, oil painting, wapping group

The Shard has changed many scenes in London, this is the view from Southwark Cathedral. It is a dramatic object that tends to dominate any scene, but on the whole I like it. It is a struggle to fit into a painting though. 10in by 10in oils.

 

Shard, London Bridge, London, Southwark, oil painting, Wapping group

A sucker for punishment I took it on again! I thought the vertical format would be a good idea but seeing it on screen tells me that cropping 4in off the top would improve the picture hugely. So much so that I might do a studio one of this. I will have to go back and look at it in various lights first. 16in by 10in. Oils.

 

Southwark, London, plein air, oils, wapping group

Last one from Southwark. It was a Wapping Group day so I sat with Steve Alexander and did this. Only 30 min or so but the best of the day. I had to adjust a few of the figures later to make the composition revolve around the two lighter figures. 8in by 10in oils.

 

St John Smiths Square, London, plein air, Wapping group, oil painting

Another Wapping Group day this time around the Westminster area. This is St John Smiths Square. A very beautiful square but hard to get away from the church which fills the centre. The light teased me horribly on this one, the light through the trees attracted me to paint it then the day went gloomy! I pegged away at it and was just packing up when the sun came back, so I whipped out my brushes again and added the touches of light. Amazing how so few touches of tone can transform an otherwise dull painting. 10in by 14in oils.

 

St John Smiths Square, London, plein air, oil painting, wapping group

I moved around the square for this one, only a sketch I shan’t take it further but I will return to the square as it has a couple of great subjects to paint. 10in by 10in oils.

 

mill bank, London, thames, wapping group, oil painting

I stood with the traffic bombing past me along the Millbank opposite the Tate. I liked the swoop of the road and the afternoon light which was warming as the evening drew on. It is not possible to resolve a complex picture like this in an hour, but I try to work over them evenly so everything is at the same level of focus. If you do this they feel finished even though much is left incomplete. 10in by 16in.

 

Hambledon Hill, Dorset, watercolour

While working on my new house in Dorset I managed to get a couple of sketches done on my daily walk over Hambledon Hill. I am really looking forward to painting these landscapes more intensively. While painting this the the wind was moving the paint across the paper like mad… so I can’t really claim to have painted the sky it was mostly done by the weather! 8in by 10in watercolour.

 

Hambledon Hill, Dorset, watercolour

Another view of the hill, it transforms dramatically with the light. The next day I went up later and the light was fabulous but I didn’t have my paints with me and my camera ran out of battery! 5in by 7in watercolour.

 

Hambledon hill, Dorset, watercolour

It is hard to make good compositions on the hill. This look wonderful to the eye but somehow doesn’t come together into a picture. 5in by 7in watercolour.

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