Showing posts with label composition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label composition. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Making History: Leaving Marks



"Angel 8"  by Jim Carpenter, 6.5" x 4.5"

The Process Of Aging: Leaving Marks


This painting which I am titling "Angel 8" for the time being, is small. That is, it is small by comparison to what it was a few hours ago.

You may have noticed I've skipped from Day 16 of Leslie Saeta's 30 Day Painting Challenge to Day 21. That's how long it took for this painting to arrive. The original start had  been around for several years, painted blue and 11" x 22." I scrubbed it back and cut it in half weeks ago. In the last five days I must have painted it and then taken the painting back down to the raw paper at least 4 times. This is how my paintings get that aged look that I like so much. Each time I remove paint some elements are left behind - the scratches, the lines, the most stubborn layers of paint embed a history into the paper. 

I don't set out to do this - that is, I don't say, "Ok, I'll paint this and then destroy it 5 times and then finish it." Each pass I am hoping will release the painting. But sometimes that's what it takes.  That and an "ah ha" moment. 

Ah Ha: History Repeats Itself


For me this time the "ah ha" moment came when I realized that maybe the part of the painting I was really focused on was the essence of the painting and that the rest of the painting, though nice, was a distraction. Did I learn nothing from my own blog post on Day 15? All it took was finding mat corners to frame the area and I could see that I needed (once again) to crop the painting and that (once again) the image was exactly 6.5" x 4.5." What's that all about?  

I still like what is left behind of the 11" square. I may be able to use what's left for the next few paintings in the challenge. But what I'm learning from this process - two paintings in a row now - is that when the painting isn't working as a whole and I really like two different sections of the painting that maybe I have more than one painting going on in one space. It is a matter of composition. Sometimes I may be playing with composition and wanting to split the viewer's focus, but it didn't feel right today, and I sensed a need to zero the focus in on one grouping.  




Friday, January 16, 2015

Finding The Painting: The Challenge Day 16

"Angel 7" by Jim Carpenter, 6.5" x 4.5," Acrylic on Paper

Re-Turning To What I Never Left, Right?


It has been one week since I submitted anything for Leslie Saeta's 30 Day Challenge.  I did spend time in the studio painting, but I seemed to be getting nowhere fast. I am not really a "daily painter" - although I hope to paint every day, my process is one that does not generally lead to a completed painting in one day. My process is also full of surprises for me, but that is to be expected when one approaches things from the perspective of "not knowing," which is how I approach my paintings.  

I did not see "Angel 7" until 7 p.m. tonight although it was actually right in front of my face and at the end of my brush for the last 48 hours. I had been working on the same 9" square sheet of paper for a week - painting and lifting and painting and lifting, and obliterating. A couple of days ago this sheet of paper was a proper painting  and then I decided it was really just dreadful and so I rubbed it out and started again. 

I delineated the figure in "Angel 7" two or three days ago and was quite happy with it but because it was settled in the left side of the 9" square I spent much of my time trying to make the other half of the painting work. I saw the figure on the left side of the paper as a secondary figure. I really don't know why I thought that way about it, but my hunch is that it was because it was on the left side of the paper and there was nothing on the right to balance it. The composition demanded something on the right and as I worked on bringing out a vague figure on the right side of the paper I also worked on solidifying the figure on the left, never actually thinking it was more than a secondary point of focus. 


Step Away From The Painting and Carry the Moon

I was determined to post a painting tonight so when it was time for me to leave my studio to go to the Wellness Center to teach my qigong class, I promised myself that when I got back I would get back to painting right away.  "Carrying The Moon" is the qigong pattern we did tonight. I never underestimate the cleansing power of my qigong practice and the clarity of mind it produces. I think it no coincidence that the moment I got home after class and went to the painting I saw that the painting wasn't working; I saw that I had a figure on the left and a big vague empty space on the right.  I said "It's not a painting yet." And then it hit me, "But if I crop this, maybe I'll have a painting." I took some mat corners and cropped it to exactly the same size as the paintings in the angel series, 4.5" x 6.5." How weird is that?  


Trust Your Creative Process

It may seem like an immediate no brainer to some of my artist buddies. Are you all saying, "Well, big DUH, Jim!" I don't blame you. I'm saying it too. Why I didn't see it sooner I don't know.  I was holding out for something bigger? Yes, like twice as big, actually - 9" instead of 4.5!  "Just crop it, Jim!" 

If this teaches me anything it teaches me that my creative process is always working, even when I think it is not. Painting paintings that I decide are all wrong, spending hours trying to make one part of the painting work when the actual painting is already there just waiting for me to notice it - that's all part of my creative process.  And to me, the most intriguing aspect of this is that this painting is exactly what I set out to do on day one of this challenge - a series of "angel" paintings - 4.5" x 6.5" - and here I "thought" that I had given up on that idea.  Ha!  

Sometimes I think my creative spirit has a mind of its own.  




Saturday, June 28, 2014

Sidebar: All Joking About Composition Aside

"Sidebar" by Jim Carpenter, Acrylic on Paper, 30" x 22" 

In The Center From The Beginning...

The center is the hottest spot on the canvas. That is, your eye is going to go there and stay there for a while. I often refer to it as the "hitting the audience over the head with a bat" spot. Might as well also shout, "Do you get it? Do you see? It is about these 3 figures!"

The "abstract start" for this painting was especially intriguing because the most luscious part of it was in the center of the paper, and warning flags plagued me throughout the process of carving out first one, then two, then three overlapping figures in the center of the painting. Despite the rule that says "don't put anything in the center of the paper," I just couldn't help myself. I had to do it.

Yes. This is the start!  Makes you wonder, doesn't it!

It is fine to warn about "the center" of the paper. It is a good guideline, but sometimes the center of the paper, just like the center of the stage, is not only ok, it can also be perfectly perfect. The "in your face" spot is the perfect spot for Dolly to take in the big showstopper "Hello Dolly." It's perfectly ok to put anything there you want to put there as long as you feel the subject warrants it.  
That doesn't mean though that I was not concerned about these figures being in the hot spot. I just decided to allow it and deal with the results later.

I also found myself once again dipping into my bag of "staging the scene" tidbits as I worked with the three central figures.  The differences in height, gesture, and costume are all elements of the unspoken narrative and character development inherent in dramatic text. The story is told and character is revealed not just with words but also with position, gesture, physique, and costume.
 And so, a story - however you want to spin it - begins to develop around those three figures.  One might think that it's all about them.  On the other hand, maybe it is not.  

The Key Distraction

Ok, yes, it would seem that this painting is all about the three authoritative figures, who stand together robed and in conference smack dab in the middle of the canvas.  But then there is the nondescript figure off to the left side of the paper that keeps pulling my eye over there.  Why is that figure there?

I will admit that I was concerned (at first) that I had a figure there. Once again, I couldn't help myself. That is, I liked and wanted that figure there despite the fact that I could hear the critics in my head saying "my eye keeps being pulled off to the left by this nondescript figure, clearly distant and not the obvious focus of the painting. It is a distraction." So I took it out.

Then I put it back in because the painting seemed to fall apart without it. But then I thought about the eye being pulled and so I took it out again. It was not until I thought about the importance of trusting my instincts - of acknowledging that I wanted that distraction there - that I was able to put it in and leave it in. The distraction was the key that unlocked the meaning of the painting and led to the title, "Sidebar." 

Acknowledge The Distraction: There's Always More To The Story 

Without the nondescript figure to the left, the image on the canvas offered only one melodramatic note - three figures in conference.  With the little figure to the left creating tension - pulling the eye back and forth - the image offers the possibilities of a larger, more complex, narrative. Who is that figure? What is the figure's interest in the action taking place between the three central figures? What is that figure's relationship to the three in robes? And if this were a play, who would the play be about? 

In my imagination the play would be about the figure that I keep having to look at, the figure whose presence I am not allowed to forget, even when there are three robed figures in the hot spot with a big moon-like circle marking their activity. The sweeping symbolic text swirling around all the figures suggests a cosmic narrative that lifts this image to something more allegorical than literal.

If I take anything away from the experience of making this painting it might be to have more courage when it comes to listening to my own voice.  And to look to my own history of creative expression before negating it.  Trust the muse that is leading you to do those things you think you are not supposed to be doing.  

Thursday, April 10, 2014

A Question of Eminence

"Eminence Claire" by Jim Carpenter, Acrylic on Paper, 22" x 30"

The title of this painting is a play on the phrase "éminence grise," the phrase literally means "grey eminence" and is a reference to one who wields power without holding an official position. The figures in this painting wield power. They are not shadowy figures, they are luminaries: two in the open, center stage, and one more distant figure with the strongest light shining on it.

This painting more than any other made me feel like I was directing a play when it dawned on me that I could play with the focus of this painting - and thereby tinker with the narrative - by dimming or raising the light on the figures.  I had three bits of action on the stage - each attempting to take focus - and I had to ask myself who or what is this painting about.  I felt very attached to the smaller solitary figure on the right - upstage and distant from the rest - suggesting to me that this figure had significant interest and influence in what was happening in the world of the painting.  The central figures have the focus: they are taller than the rest, closer than the rest, in the center, one is in a red cloak, the other a white cloak. Eminence! And then there was a pair of lovers on stage right (left side of the paper), exactly where lovers should be according to stage theory (if you believe in theory).  

So I decided to play with the light.  I put the lovers in the dark by layering a transparent wash over them. The story may indeed be all about them but right now we are not to focus on them. We are to know they are there, but they are not the focus at this moment: the figures in the center are the focus.  At first I thought the figure in the distance needed to be played down because it could take focus from the central figures.  But I liked the balance this figure offered to the composition. And maybe this figure that is observing the proceedings needs to tug at the viewer's attention. 

So I started to play with the light on this distant figure.  First dimming it with a wash, and then bringing it up by lifting the wash. I did this several times before I realized that I get to create the framework for the story the viewer will create while looking at this painting.  Illuminated and in the background, the smallest figure appears to be the one with the most power.  

Monday, January 6, 2014

Making Art: The Unavoidable Risk

"Onward" by Jim Carpenter, Watercolor and Acrylic on Paper, 22" x 30"

"What am I afraid of? It's only a piece of paper!" 

We hear so often that it is essential to take risks in art making, and yet I never really had anyone tell me what the risks are.  That is, except for the young theatre director who told me that the improv she was having her actors do was intended to make them feel so totally foolish that they would get used to the fear of looking foolish.  I concluded that the risk in art was that you could end up looking like a fool. Since then I've added: fear of being wrong, fear of not conforming, fear of being an outlier, fear of being rejected, fear of failure, and last but not least, the ever awful fear of ruining a $3.50 sheet of watercolor paper.  

Authenticity: Inevitable Risk 

Once I stopped painting pots of flowers and started to paint from a more intuitive place, I began to deal with the risks of authentic self-expression.  I see enough of the images that I carve out of the paint to see a theme, and to see what are becoming almost stock images that appear over and over again in a similar stage setting.  In this painting, "Onward," there is the familiar figure in the robe, the light shining from some other source, a sense of movement toward or focus on or of being transfixed by the light, figures in the light, in front of the light, out of the light.  

I don't want to explain the figures. I choose not to try to explain what these images might mean to me.  I want them to remain a visual metaphor, one unlimited and undefined by words.  And besides, isn't it risk enough just to present the images?  

Writing a blog is every bit as risk-taking as painting if you are going to be authentic and publish it on the Internet.  I write because it is in the writing that I discover the lesson that creative experience holds for me.  And I write the blog to build fortitude in taking ownership of my work and the themes that are reflected in it.  Might it also encourage a reader to explore the benefits of writing a blog which serves as a tool for self-reflection and illumination?

Onward: To Turn Toward

This painting was started over a year ago, when I was exploring returning to watercolor and applying some of the techniques I use when painting with acrylic. Eventually I added acrylic to the watercolor painting before abandoning it to the "unfinished" pile. Here is what it looked like when I returned to it.


In my "finishing" I wanted to put the emphasis on the tall central figure, and take the emphasis off of all of the other figures.  I grayed-down the gold and warmed up the gray, darkened the darks and lightened the light around the central figure.  I also covered the other figures with an opaque acrylic wash.  

As I took each step I could see the other figures losing their pull, becoming secondary characters for the moment, and allowing the story to be focused primarily on the figure in the robe.  However,  the other figures are an essential element in the composition and the narrative, the role of each suggested by their posture, their placement, and their substance.  

"Onward," which comes from the Old English root "weard" meaning to "turn toward," seemed a proper title even before I looked up its etymological meaning. 


Saturday, January 4, 2014

Creating Narrative Through Composition

"The Gathering" by Jim Carpenter, Acrylic on Crescent Board, 12" x 20"

When Icons Aren't Enough

Some of these figures are beginning to feel like old friends. I've seen them before in my other paintings. Thus the title, "The Gathering."  

When I began this painting I imagined the figures were long-buried icons being uncovered.  I used various gel mediums, including crackle paste, to get the effects of ancient crumbling walls and plaster. This is the painting I started with - the one of the 30 that I said I was going to "finish" in this 30 day challenge.  

So when I picked the painting up again I began to work on fleshing out the figures.  I added combinations of metallic gold and bronze and quinacridone gold. 


Eventually I found that having the figures on the wall as adornment simply wasn't enough to satisfy me. I wanted to put the figures into an environment in order to create narrative.  I wondered if the original artist put them in an environment.  I thought: "Well when the artist painted this on the ancient wall did he have them in a scene or were they just icons on a gilt wall?"  

Yes, I know that sounds a bit crazy, but remember I was "a theatre person" for a good number of decades. Stanislavsky rules! Creating characters and back history and putting yourself in the situation of the character are second nature to theatre people. Still, sometimes it's important for me to remember that I really am the painter of my paintings!  I'm the decider.

The Environment and Narrative

The environment does not have to be literal. It can be figurative - simple - abstract space.  Where the figures are placed in that space and how they are positioned is what creates story. 

I put figures in an environment in order to create narrative, and as you can see, I also take figures out to help the story along. Taking out one figure created a large space between the first figure and the second, adding weight to both.  

 
Although we don't have a lot of details, a story is there for the telling.  You can imagine that the figure on the left is benevolent, judging by the tilt of the head, and by its being positioned on the left side of the paper. There seems to be a conversation of sorts going on between the two figures on the right. But it is the central figure who is the strongest - that is, the central figure takes the most focus. Although it would seem that all of the figures are engaged in their own activity, it is the figure who is closest to the viewer, closest to the center, and with his full back to us who catches our attention - because of where he is and how he is positioned in the space in relationship to the other figures.  With his back to us he generates additional wonder and mystery.  




PS. I had a few good laughs at myself while writing this blog post. I had not really thought about how I slip into theatrical modes of thinking when I paint. Stanislavsky would be proud of my liberal use of "what if."  


Friday, November 22, 2013

Directing The Eye Through Composition and Word

"The End Of The Pilgrimmage" by Jim Carpenter, Acrylic on Paper, 22" x 30"

Directing The Eye Through Composition


Artists use composition to focus and direct the eye of the viewer.  You might find as you look at this painting that you first look at the figure that is in the highest position, and then move to the large figure in the center and then to the tallest figure further to the right. And then you notice the long line of figures moving from the right to the left at the bottom of the paper. Then back up to the figure on the upper left.  

The easy and natural path for the western eye to follow is from left to the right, the way we read. And so that figure up there on the left is perhaps the starting point of travel through the painting.  The figure in the center - the center being a hot spot - would dominate the painting were it not for the height of the figure on the upper left or the size of the figure to the right of center.  There is a balance and a tension between these three figures. Who they are and what they represent may not be specific but they are in positions - on the page - that suggest they have more authority or power than the other figures in the painting.  

Then we come down to the figures starting on the right side of the paper. They seem to be moving left, or rather, our eye is traveling left with them.  This travel goes against the grain - the opposite way of our reading habits - and this makes that movement strong, giving these smaller figures some strength of focus.

Directing The Eye Through Words


How the viewer looks at the painting can also be affected by the title. I came up with three possible titles for this painting.  Let's try each one out and see how it affects the way the painting is viewed.  

"Above and Below"



If the title is "Above and Below" the viewer is encouraged to see two levels and to make sense of it - the top and the bottom, the big guys and the little guys, the spiritual and the human... there are countless possibilities.  It focuses on polarity.

"Degrees of Separation"



The title "Degrees of Separation" allows the viewer to look a little more deeply into the painting. For example, it might lead first to an examination of the separation between the figures below and each of the figures above. And subsequently to an examination of the ways in which the upper figures are separated from one another - higher or lower, closer or more distant from one another. It also would lead to an examination of the obvious degrees of separation between the figures on the bottom as they relate to one another, and how they might relate or not relate to the figures in higher places.


"The End of the Pilgrimage"



This title does all that the previous two do, but adds some new direction for the viewers. It adds character and plot and meaning in a way that the other two titles do not. When I think of this as a snapshot of the end of the pilgrimage - that is, the pilgrims/travelers have arrived at their destination - I am led to look at the figures at the bottom in all of their positions, and I see that the positions indicate a state of being for each character - an attitude.  At the same time the figures above them also take on more human characteristics. What are they thinking now that they have their audience before them?  Are they a part of this or are they looking for something else?


Maintaining Ambiguity


I try always to allow plenty of room for interpretation of my paintings.  What this painting is really about is something that only the viewer can decide.  Though a "pilgrimage" is generally viewed as a journey to a sacred place - the pilgrims in the middle ages would travel great distances to view the relics of a particular saint - a pilgrimage does not have to be solely about the sacred.  It can stand as a metaphor for any journey of great import that we happen to be on.  What happens once we get where we are going?  The end of the pilgrimage is something to consider.  



Monday, September 23, 2013

Suspending Action: Ponder, Poise, Balance

"Poise to Ponder" by Jim Carpenter, Acrylic on Paper, 7" x 9"

Painting #20 Day #23 in the 30 in 30 Challenge


I can't believe this is painting #20.  How interesting it has been for me to watch these small paintings take on various formats and configurations.  

The title of this painting is "Ponder."  To ponder means to weigh something mentally before making a decision or before coming to a conclusion.  The three figures in the painting may be poised to make a decision, although I see some slight movement in the third figure on the right, as if he is moving to a place to think on his own.   Interestingly enough the root of "ponder" is the Latin verb ponderare which means to consider or to weigh [mentally.] Weight is in the balance here, in terms of the composition of the painting as well as the meaning of the words ponder and poise, both of which trace their roots back to words that relate specifically to weight and weighing.  

The main character in this painting is the figure on the right.  He is he one whose pondering we are being asked to consider.  He is facing the viewer; one can make out some expression on his face.  He seems to have more weight than the other two figures combined and seems to be closer to the viewer.  I see him as moving into position - a little further to the right is where he will finish, and then the scene will be balanced.  But for now he is suspended in motion, poised, and likely will move after a moment's pause.  At least, that's how I see it.  Are my days as a stage director showing?  








Saturday, September 14, 2013

Compose


"Composure" by Jim Carpenter, Acrylic on Paper, 11" x 11"

Composure: Painting #11 Day #14 in 30 in 30 Challenge 

I no longer can remember what my start looked like. The only thing I can remember is that I painted and lifted and painted and lifted a lot, and that figure on the right, this woman of great composure walking toward the viewer, was adamant about being there.  And it remained the only clear thing I could see in the paper during the entire process. I layered in paint to isolate the figure and that gave way to hints of a misty environment - given some substance by the second figure seeming to be walking behind and following.  

I like to think of many of the images in my paintings as the remnants and shadows of paintings laid down by artists of long ago, paintings that have been lost, long hidden, and I'm un-covering or dis-covering them. This particular image has those qualities, so I wanted to preserve it. But at the same time I felt that there needed to be contrast, something that was not uncovered yet, but rather remained somewhat buried or untouched, vibrant and obscure.  So I started layering paint on the area to the left, added some line and stamped in the figure "lifting the sky," the single most holistic pattern of Qigong, the ancient Chinese self-healing art form.  It's a composite that juxtaposes the covered and the uncovered, the light and the dark, the warm and the cool, the interior and the exterior, and what may be different moments in time.  

If all the delicate balances are correct and the viewer's eye is carried in the right way from one part of the painting to another then we can speak not merely of composite but of composition.  

Once again my theatre training comes to my aid. I understand that I am splitting the focus in this painting, dragging the focus of the viewer from the gold figure "lifting the sky" up left to the main figure down right.  If I didn't have this in my toolbox from directing plays, I'd be afraid to take the risk of doing this in a painting.  But, I want the viewer to consider both figures and draw conclusions on their own.  It's an invitation to the viewer to compose their own story about what is happening in the painting. 



Saturday, September 7, 2013

Honor the Creative Spirit

 "Honor" by Jim Carpenter, Acrylic on Paper, 9 1/2" x 6 1/2"

Painting #4 in my day 7 of Leslie Saeta's 30 in 30 Challenge.

When I looked at the finish my first thought was "this is about honor." So I titled it "Honor" and see it as a logical sequence in a line of titles: Seek, Pause, Endure, and now Honor.  I always make an effort not to box a painting in with a title because I want the viewers to be free to create their own story from what they see.  In that sense visual art is collaborative.

As I look at the painting now I see that I pulled the composition out of my theatre bag.  I really didn't think about it at all when I was in the midst of the creative process.  But, I spent decades directing plays and exploring story-telling by moving people from one place to another in a big empty space, and so I shouldn't be surprised to see that experience informing me now.  They say, "Paint what you know" and I say, "If you paint intuitively, you have no choice but to paint what you know.  You cannot do otherwise.  In fact, you may discover what you know by simply painting from the heart."

I've said previously that I believe in "not knowing" and perhaps that is why I view my paintings as vehicles for informing me about the stories that really matter to me and would remain untold were I not to paint.

I sometimes will look at a painting long after I'm done and I say, "Oh, so that's what matters to me!"

Do you find yourself creating meaning when you look at the figures in this painting?  What is going on in the scene?  I'd love to hear your stories.