Still life...trying again

The last time I attempted a floral still life painting, it all went south. But, since I have been wanting to build a more regular practice of painting and drawing from life, and since it is nothing but brown and gray outside right now in Virginia (not to mention that I don't tolerate the cold too well) I decided not to let a little past  failure hold me back. And as they say, it's in the failures where we have great opportunity to learn and grow. It sounds a bit cliché but it's also actually true, especially if you don't let the failures wig you out. I have to admit, at first I did duke it out with the old psyche a bit, but upon reflection I realized that I really did learn a few lessons from my last effort. For one thing I learned that I didn't really set myself up for success to begin with. I basically walked in, put some flowers in a vase, set them on a table and went to it. How hard could it be? Wellll....

The first problem was that there is actually quite a lot that goes into setting up a nice still life. I figured since it had been a very long time I would keep it simple by focusing on just the flowers and a vase, and no other extraneous objects. Only extraneous objects were all around my prior "setup" (if you could call it that.) The utility sink was in the background, as well as pictures hanging on a wall, art supply bins nearby, etc.  It's not impossible to paint that stuff out, but it is pretty distracting.

Secondly, in my previous attempt, the lighting was completely flat and non directional. That's great for studio lighting in general, but it makes it harder to create form and good color without that definitive light and shadow. I felt like it was kind of akin to painting outside on a gray day.

So the first order of business was to remedy these issues, and create an environment where I would be "set up" for success.  Once I found a solution to my setup issues (which I will share in my next post) I felt like I had more control.

Here's how it went down, in various stages:

Initial design in a wash of cobalt blue, burnt sienna, and chromatic black:

Still life floral painting demo by Jennifer E Young

Blocking in; shadows first, then midtones:

Still life floral painting demo by Jennifer E Young

Fleshing it out:

Still life floral painting demo by Jennifer E Young

Still life floral painting demo by Jennifer E Young

And the final:

"Tulips and Mandarins" Oil on Linen, 14x11" ©Jennifer E Young

New floral still life (WIP)

I wish I could say that I was as passionate a flower arranger as I am a gardener, but I'm afraid to watch me make the attempt, you'd likely think I was wrestling the blooms into submission rather than celebrating a creative act. Maybe one day I will learn, but at present, my arrangements are pretty tenuous, and they only  look ok as long as you don't look at the back! But I have these great blooms right now in my garden from my massive Limelight Hydrangea, and I have been really wanting to capture them in paint before they are done for the season.

The shrub itself is far larger than I imagined it would be for my space (probably topping out at 8 or 9 feet by now) , but then that is true of just about everything in my garden! The blooms start out a lovely creamy white, and then turn a gorgeous lime green tinged with pink by season's end. Then the other day while shopping I saw these sunflowers lined up like happy little children, so I grabbed a bunch to add to the mix, and an arrangement was born.

It's been a while since I have painted a floral, but I really feel it's so important to regularly practice working from life, and it's been raining an awful lot this last week. So, with fall lurking just around the corner and my flower garden in its final days, I finally felt inspired to give it a go. (Better late than never, I guess!) Here, below,  is the initial block-in on my 24x20" linen canvas.

Floral still life painting in progress by Jennifer E. Young

This is about 3 hours' work. I try not to get too detailed yet, but I have my basic pattern down so that I can jump right in when I return to the easel.

Sunflowers!

I've needed some cheering up lately, so yesterday I started a new painting of Tuscan sunflowers. It's nearly impossible to frown while beholding a sea of sunflowers, right?

Tuscany sunflowers painting in progress by Jennifer E. Young

Feeling better already :-)

Top ten reasons to paint your back yard garden

1. You can paint it better than it actually looks (a few more roses here, a few less weeds there...)
2. Unlike a public garden, you likely won't get taken unawares by the sprinkler system.
3. You are intimately familiar with how the light travels through the garden at different times of the day.
4. You are intimately familiar with the location of the latrine (and more than likely it will be free and fairly clean.)
5. You can leave all of your gear set up during breaks (and probably won't need to get someone to watch your stuff as you break for the above mentioned latrine.)
6. You can do your part to reduce the carbon footprint (no need to drive anywhere.)
7. Forgetting to pack an important supply is easily remedied.
8. Plenty of opportunity to take weeding and pruning breaks (okay, this might not be such a good thing for your painting, but your garden will love it.)
9. You won't look like a crazy lady wandering through the park staring at trees, with luggage, a big floppy hat, and a compass. (You'll just look like a crazy neighbor wandering around her yard with luggage, a big floppy hat, and a compass.)
10. The reception to the wireless baby monitor extends just to the edge of your yard!

"Under the Limelight" Oil on board, 8x6" ©Jennifer Young

This little painting is kind of a cross between a still life and a plein air painting. The Japanese lantern sits at the corner of my garden under the limelight hydrangea (hence the title.) Since the hydrangea isn't yet in bloom, I've punched up the corner with some potted geraniums.

Too cold for plein air...? So I'll write about it instead!

Note: This post picks up on a conversation that started in the comments section of my post from a couple of days ago about painting outside in "the elements"....or not. My first plein air painting experience was a disaster. In fact, I don't think I was really won over with the whole idea of painting on location until about the 5th time out. It took many more outings than that, however, before I created anything I considered to be remotely approaching a "success".

There were definitely days when I found myself wondering why I bothered with it at all. Even now that I really love plein air painting, I still find I don't do it as often as I would like. It is certainly a lot easier to paint in a nice cozy studio at any time of day or night without having to haul a bunch of gear around. It's a hassle. You have to deal with bugs, sunburn, wind, rain, or the freezing cold. In some cases you also have to deal with constant interruptions from passers-by (from dogs to people to timed sprinklers coming on unexpectedly to boats parking right in front of your view!)

But even with all of that, there is something exhilarating about it. It can often be the best sweaty, bug-bitten, exhausting, driven, compelling, and highly focused couple of hours I've ever spent. And even in the "wipers" or those that end up in the "circular file" there was often enough of an element-- maybe just a square inch or two-- that hinted at some special understanding and called me forward. In short, there was something this experience was teaching me that I wasn't getting by working in the studio alone.

In order to really enjoy my plein air painting experiences I think I first had to finally let go of the need for a particular outcome. Of course ultimately I want to become a better painter! But just as I'm trying to do now with my life-drawing, I gained the greatest benefit from this practice when I finally started viewing it in terms of what I could learn rather than what I could produce. The shift in perspective helped, because what I found from nearly the beginning was that whatever the immediate outcome, these experiences helped to inform and improve my knowledge and understanding overall, including the work I did in the studio.

Since my work is based on the natural world, there is no better reference than nature herself; and one of the main benefits of plein air painting for me is that I am painting from life.  Plein air painting isn't the only way to achieve that of course. I can also set up a still life  or do some figure drawing and painting (which is one reason why I've gotten back into life drawing myself this winter when I can't seem to get myself outside in the cold for more than 5 minutes!)

But the difference with plein air is that not only are you dealing with painting your response to a "live" subject, you are also having to concern yourself with the changing light and many other things that move and change and can't be controlled the way you can do in the studio environment. It's limiting, but not in a bad way. It pushes you to think about simplifying and making the bold statement without having to articulate every little detail, and doing so with a great deal of accuracy at the same time.

That is not to say that by their nature all plein air paintings are "better" than studio paintings. I'm sure anyone who has spent time looking at landscape paintings has probably seen a good deal of strong AND weak paintings produced by both methods. Ultimately, a painting has to stand on its own.

Both methods have their advantages and their limitations, which is why I like to "mix it up". In some respects the two practices could be compared to short-pose gesture drawing vs. longer, more studied sittings done in life drawing. In either case, I'm sharpening my skills of sight and understanding, but using different muscle groups, so to speak. Hopefully with regular practice the dexterity and skill will grow. That's not all there is to art. To be sure, it's not art without individual creativity and expression. But skill and dexterity in the execution sure make it a lot easier for me to better articulate my creative vision.