The Oil Painting Blog : color

Words of a Winner

Austin R. Williams — Thu, 12 Jul 2012 05:06:00 GMT

The winners of our Self-Portrait Cover Competition are featured in the September issue of American Artist, and they share advice about how to paint the figure and how to maintain a successful painting practice. When we asked David Tanner, the winner of the competition, to give his advice, he offered more than we had room to print. So I thought I'd share it here--hopefully it's useful for those of you working on how to paint the figure realistically, as this artist does. Here, then, are David Tanner's recommendations:


Self-Portrait by David Tanner 2009, oil painting, 16 x 12. Winner of American Artist's Self-Portrait Cover Competition.

If you are interested in representational painting, make sure you find a school or take classes taught by artists who can "walk the walk." Even the most general of painting classes should be taught by a painter capable of doing a basic still life demonstration painting from life.

Paint what you love, of course, but also challenge yourself to paint subjects that hold less interest. I had no idea how much I would love plein air landscape painting until I tried it for the first time, and I'm positive it has improved my reaction time to light and color in other genres.

Draw from life constantly--both alone and with fellow artists. Take advantage of local open figure drawing sessions, where you can join other artists and chip in for a model fee to practice with a live model outside of your classes.

Go to museums and galleries, and linger over the paintings that resonate with you. In particular, look to see how the artists have simplified their subjects down to the masses of color-values.

Study magazines like American Artist, and pay close attention to the advice presented in the articles. In my early days as a painter, I created my first successful flesh-color combinations after reading an interview in American Artist with a well-known portrait painter.

Painting from life is the only way to successfully sensitize your eye to color, value, and form. Avoid frequent painting from photographs until you have extensive experience painting all subjects from life.

Squint and compare when observing your subject and your painting to see value relationships. Let your eyes blur and go out of focus when observing colors on your subject. The blurring will simplify the color to a mass and may make your color mixing choices easier.

Stand far back from your canvas after every few brushstrokes to monitor the success of the effect you are achieving compared to the subject.

For more information about the artist, visit Tanner's website. You can learn more about the artist's painting--and see all the finalists of our Self-Portrait Competition--in the September issue of American Artist.

--Austin

It's Time to Take Sides: Color vs. Form

dmaidman — Tue, 05 Apr 2011 03:19:00 GMT


		Leah, oil on canvas, 2010, 24 x 20.


The Sicilian Expedition, oil on canvas, 2010, 60 x 40.

They say that there are two kinds of painter: color painters, and the other kind--the kind that focuses on form, tone, and line. I'm that "other" kind of painter. I am absolutely riveted by form, and color does not come naturally to me.

This color vs. form distinction gives rise to another distinction inside the realm of color itself. Good color painters produce what I think of as organic color--they respond to the colors in front of them in a profoundly sensitive way, and reproduce subtle variations in all the properties of color, especially color temperature. Give a good color painter some alizarin crimson and raw umber, and he or she will give you a blushing cheek in early morning light.

Form painters are forced to depend on what I think of as analytic color. They consider the subject they are going to paint, and they think over a system of colors that could be used to represent it. The resulting color choices do not necessarily match the colors that are actually present in the subject. Rather, they are selected either because they're close enough to mimic naturalism (as in my oil painting, Leah) or because they will produce a strong aesthetic effect (as in my oil painting, The Sicilian Expedition).

Even though I'm an analytic colorist, I have been working hard on improving the color in my artwork. I have a few methods:

1. I study paintings with color I admire, and try to figure out how I would accomplish the same effects. Even if I'm not guessing the same color combinations I actually see in the painting, I'm forcing myself to think about solving problems the way the painter solved them.

2. Just as importantly, when I see interesting scenes in real life, I sometimes stop and ask myself how to mix colors to represent them. This forces me to decompose the complexity of scenes in the world into their component paint colors, a practice that becomes more reflexive over time, and glides into the studio with me as a tool I carry around.

3. I try to buy a tube of a new color now and then and play around with it until I figure out what it offers me.

4. I seek out painters I respect, and if they're willing to "talk tech," I ask them how they're doing things I've liked in their work.

Just because you're born one kind of artist or another, doesn't mean you have to accept that that's where you're staying. Some things are easy for me that are tough for other people, and other things that are easy for other people are tough for me and always will be.

Where do you fall along the color-form continuum? Leave a comment and let me know.

--Daniel

Oil Painting: Mary Anna Goetz's Colorful Landscapes

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 05:26:00 GMT

In the summer 2008 issue of Workshop magazine, we discussed how Mary Anna Goetz's workshops address the tendencies students have to lose sight of the center of interest and to mix colors that are garishly overstated or inaccurate value assessments. In this online exclusive gallery, we present more of Goetz's work.


Mothers War Memorial, Cadman Plaza ca. 1989, oil, 30 x 24. Private collection.	Early May ca. 2004, oil, 16 x 20. Private collection.	Late July ca. 2003, oil, 15 x 15. All artwork this gallery courtesy James Cox Gallery, Willow, New York, unless otherwise indicated.


Forget-Me-Not Garden, Ideal Park 2001, oil, 20 x 36.	Wellfleet Harbor 2004, oil, 12 x 24.	Boathouse in Central Park 2005, oil, 18 x 18.


Central Park in Spring 2005, oil, 15 x 15. Private collection.	Williamsburg Bridge 2005, oil, 9 x 12. Private collection.	Rainy Day on Fifth Avenue ca. 2004, oil, 20 x 20. Private collection.


Bethesda Fountain ca. 1989, oil, 20 x 16.	The Flatiron Building in Winter 2005, oil, 30 x 24. Private collection.	Brunch 2000, oil, 32 x 28.

Oil Painting: Step by Step: Joseph Gyurcsak's "Subtle Grays"

American Artist — Wed, 07 May 2008 06:56:00 GMT

In the December 2007 issue of American Artist, Joseph Gyurcsak used the work of Giorgio Morandi and Paul Cézanne to help illustrate lessons on developing paintings. Here, we present a step by step demonstration of his painting Subtle Grays.

The Setup

Gyurcsak began this demonstration by setting up his easel, palette, and still life arrangement under the same light so that his color mixing would be more accurate. Notice how his easel is positioned approximately three feet from the subject, a perfect distance for the sight-size method.


Step 1 The artist next did a preliminary drawing—using a combination of Venetian red and ultramarine blue—to work out his proportional and compositional concerns before beginning to add color.	Step 2 Focusing on the largest sections of color in each object, Gyurcsak next mixed appropriate color mixtures using a limited palette. The artist explains that using a limited palette helps him maintain color harmony and unity throughout the painting.	Step 3 Gyurcsak continued to work the entire painting by intensifying color in the background and foreground, always evaluating and comparing color by its value, temperature, and intensity.


Step 4 Once he had established an overall feel of the colors throughout the painting, Gyurcsak worked on his lighter tones, avoiding the use of white until the end.	Step 5 As he massed in his light, middle, and dark values, the forms of the objects began to turn and take shape.	Step 6 Bringing the painting to completion, Gyurcsak worked on his edges, added highlights, and finished details, making sure he did not add unnecessary color or brushstrokes that might ruin the fluidity of the painting.

Oil Painting: Steve Armes: Creating Imaginative Studio Paintings

American Artist — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 09:00:00 GMT

For me, the goal of landscape painting is to paint stirring images that engage and inspire viewers, and this is more likely to happen when I use information from a variety of sources.

by Steve Armes

Sketch for Sierra Blanca
2005, oil, 8 x 10.
All artwork this article
collection the artist.

Artists usually create landscape paintings in one of four ways: They paint entirely on location; they rely on memory or imagination; they work from photos; or they use a combination of these sources. Hopefully, each of those approaches also incorporates the artist’s accumulated knowledge and experience about pigments, surfaces, procedures, and the wisdom passed down from generations of others who have recorded nature.

The focus of this article will not be on techniques artists can use to develop plein air sketches as finished works of art but rather as documents that aid in the creation of studio paintings. My recommendations may be at odds with what you have been taught or what you have read, and that’s neither surprising nor problematic. All of us base our approaches to art on the personal objectives that motivate us. Like every other artist and teacher, I do what helps me create the kind of pictures I admire.

I am fortunate to have been trained by Maynard Dixon Stewart, whose father, LeConte Stewart, was a tireless landscape painter. M. D. Stewart also studied with Frank Vincent Dumond, the legendary artist and teacher at the Art Students League of New York, in Manhattan. During my studies with Stewart, I learned to paint plein air sketches that provided enough information to complete larger, more finished paintings in the studio.

Sierra Blanca
2005, oil, 30 x 36.

Because of this training, I still use sketches as references for paintings and avoid the temptation of developing them into complete works of art. They might become beautiful paintings, but I try to keep in mind the overarching need to gather information during the three hours I record the changing effects of light and atmosphere with broad notes of color.

I was able to paint a satisfactory sketch long before I could paint a successful finished landscape. But after much effort, I arrived at some methods that now allow me to use my sketch to complete a larger, definitive painting. What I have learned falls under five broad topics: understanding the difference between a sketch and a painting; matching colors to the sketch; using photographs judiciously; invention; and knowing how to sacrifice.

Path Along the Lake
2004, oil, 18 x 24.

The Difference Between a Sketch and a Painting

My primary concern when creating a painting from a sketch is to improve the overall design. This is best done in the calm environment of the studio because it requires reflection and trial and error. I was taught to evaluate various compositional schemes by making small monochrome studies, each time altering the arrangement of the large shapes. I do that by making several black-and-white gouache studies using five or six basic values and arranging the masses into the best design. This is the most important part of making a picture because the large, simple masses are what the viewer will see first.

A location sketch is very different from a studio painting in its purpose and execution. The sketch is a tool to help capture the subtle tonalities of nature, making it possible for the artist to create a larger painting in harmony with the visual truths of nature. It is done quickly and usually in one session, with the artist focusing on the broadest tones and laying them down in proper relation to one another. A painting is planned and executed in stages, and it may include underpainting and layering of color.

Sketch for
A Texas Landscape
2005, oil, 16 x 20.

When the sketch serves as the basis of a studio painting, the challenge is to keep the good qualities of the sketch (the breadth, simplicity, and immediacy) while carrying the painting to a larger scale and a greater degree of rendering. This can be difficult because the sketch involves mixing colors rapidly, with pigment often being hastily slurred. That wonderfully bold, gestured effect is difficult to recreate in the studio, and I prefer not to even attempt that feat. Rather, I analyze what I’m trying to capture on location, and I attempt to convey the same effect.

In order to compare the sketch to the painting, I clamp my sketch to a music stand turned upright, then move my canvas and easel back so that when I am standing in front of my sketch it appears the same size as the canvas. I make all observations and judgments from this position. This allows me to see my sketch and painting side by side, which allows for better comparison while also forcing me to view my painting from a distance.

A Texas Landscape
2005, oil, 36 x 48.

Matching Colors to the Sketch

I usually start a studio painting with a monochrome or limited-color underpainting and layer color during subsequent sessions. This requires planning to ensure that the color, once modified, will match the color in the sketch. In order to gauge the accuracy of color while painting, some artists hold up a loaded brush or palette knife next to the sketch. Because I have labored in the field to get accurate color nuances, I want to carry that over to my painting. That is why I prefer to varnish my sketch, dab mixtures of color directly on the protected surface, and then wipe off the dabs before they dry. If I do that quickly, I will have a better sense of whether or not I have matched the colors. I have learned that one color on top of another may appear different than when it is laid on the canvas. I use great care to match the colors I saw on-site, since that is usually the greatest aid the sketch affords. I will often recheck the color in later phases because it sometimes needs to be modified to match the sketch. However, there are occasions when it is better to change or modify the color in the larger painting. I find it easier to paint from my imagination once I have established accurate relationships between the tones.

In the Vineyards
2006, oil, 10 x 15½.

Using Photographs Judiciously

I regard photographs as necessary evils in developing studio pieces because I usually need the information contained in them to complete the paintings. They supply ideas not suggested by the sketch, which can be useful for enriching the details. However, I have learned to use them with caution, never copying them exactly. Instead I interpret the information and do not base my painting on the way colors and values appear in a photograph. I note edges, shapes, and other details that can aid my understanding of what I am trying to render, being careful to think of them only as suggestions. Additionally, the use of a telephoto lens can enhance details that can’t be seen by the eye while observing the scene. If I use one, I study the details in the distance, but render them in the vague and mysterious way that atmosphere transforms images. Too much reliance on photographs can result in paintings that lack breadth and are broken apart by tedious detail. I know this because I have made that mistake far too many times, and I’ve learned the hard way that my sketches are better guides to studio painting than any photograph.

A Tuscan Hillside
2003, oil, 20 x 30.

Invention

To progress as a landscape painter, it is necessary to expand on nature because—like many subjects that are transferred to canvas—it needs clarification, simplification, and improvement. Nineteenth-century painters added foreground details such as rocks, trees, streams, figures, and animals. Their skills enabled them to pull such accessories out of their imaginations. Few contemporary artists have those same skills, and most—myself included—rely on oil sketches, notations in sketchbooks, or photographs taken under conditions similar to those of a chosen subject. I may consult that kind of reference material in order to add a tree, a road, or figures; or I will make memory sketches to help me invent what is needed.

Howe Sound
2004, oil, 18 x 26.

The practice of sketching from memory is nearly forgotten today, but it was widely practiced in the 19th century. The most common method was for artists to study a simple scene or effect, analyze the color notes, and later sketch it in the studio. I find this to be very difficult but valuable, especially in that the process increases my confidence and allows me to transfer images from my imagination to a finished painting. I attempt at least one 30-minute oil memory sketch each week in a sketchbook designated for this purpose. I have found it best to begin with painting the sky and cloud effects.

Knowing How to Sacrifice

Horseshoe Bay
2003, oil, 24 x 36.

Landscapes require artists to sacrifice and select in order to create harmonious pictures. John Ruskin (1819–1900) pointed out the necessity of representing some facts while sacrificing others to the greater truth. Painters reach the end of their color gamut long before they can paint anything that approaches the brilliance of the sky. They are forced to choose the most important color notes, paint them simply and frankly, and add only such detail as will enhance—but not undermine—the large masses.

About the Artist

Steve Armes studied with Maynard Dixon Stewart and Herbert Perleman before launching a career as an illustrator and then transitioning into fine art. In 1996 he was unanimously voted an associate member of The American Society of Classical Realism Artists’ Guild, and in 2006 he was invited to join Stephen Gjertson and Kirk Richards in forming “Triad: Three American Painters,” a traveling exhibition that debuted at the Newington-Cropsey Foundation, in Hastings-on-Hudson, New York. He maintains a studio in Dallas and teaches workshops throughout the United States and in Europe. For more information on Armes, visit his website at www.stevearmes.com.

Oil Painting: SPONSORED CONTENT: Artist Behind the Brand: Scott Gellatly

American Artist — Thu, 13 Dec 2007 11:00:00 GMT

Oregon artist Scott Gellatly knows that a broad knowledge of materials and techniques can help painters realize their visions. That’s why he now travels around the country on behalf of Gamblin Artist’s Colors teaching painters how to give form to their ideas using the company’s line of colors and mediums.

by M. Stephen Doherty

Sauvie Field
2007, oil, 12 x 12.
All artwork this article
courtesy Brian Marki Fine Art,
Portland, Oregon.

Like most art students, Scott Gellatly learned more about the aesthetic possibilities of art supplies from his teachers than he did about the nature and performance of those materials. It wasn’t until he worked in an art-supply store after graduating from the University of Oregon that he understood how various grounds, pigments, mediums, and varnishes might help him realize the possibilities his professors described. “Robert Gamblin, founder of Gamblin Artist’s Oil Colors, made a presentation to the store’s staff and customers, and at the end I realized I had learned more about selecting and using painting materials than I had in all my years in art school,” Gellatly recalls. “Robert talked about mineral and modern pigments, selected palettes of color, painting supports, mediums and varnishes, and techniques for developing permanent paintings. I went back to my studio and applied that newly acquired knowledge, and suddenly I knew how to achieve the effects of light, atmosphere, and space I wanted in my oil paintings.”

Now Gellatly is a product manager for Gamblin Artist’s Colors and he travels around the country making the same kinds of presentations about the company’s products in art stores, ateliers, colleges, and art centers. Many of the artists who watch his demonstrations find the information just as helpful as he did a few years ago. Even some experienced artists say they are shocked to discover how little they actually knew about materials and techniques that will allow them to build permanent paintings.

Sunset on the Divide
2007, oil, 12 x 12.

“I spend about two hours offering a formal presentation about color theory, personalized palettes of color, solvents and mediums, varnishes, grounds and supports, etc., and then I talk to artists about their individual concerns,” Gellatly explains. “The information can be useful to artists no matter what style of painting they are pursuing. Some of the questions artists pose are those that come up all the time: ‘What is alkyd medium?’ ‘When and how should I apply a varnish?’ ‘What does it mean to paint fat-over-lean?’; other questions relate to specific concerns, such as what palette is recommended for plein air painting or for emulating the work of the Impressionists.”

The Gamblin company finds there is such a need for responding to artists’ questions and concerns that it posts a great deal of information on its website (www.gamblincolors.com), and hires people to help Gellatly make face-to-face presentations. “The company recently trained seven other people to help me, and we now make more than 100 visits annually to art schools, retail stores, and art centers,” he explains. “In addition, several of us from the Oregon office meet with retailers and artists at trade shows and artists’ conventions, such as the annual conventions of the Portrait Society of America, the College Art Association, and the National Art Materials Trade Association. We also respond to the questions sent by e-mail to our website.”

Sunrise on the Divide
2007, oil, 12 x 12.

Although Gellatly is on the road an average of one week a month, he manages to find time for both plein air painting and studio work, and he has been able to mount at least one solo exhibition a year at Brian Marki Fine Art, in Portland. “The presentation by Robert Gamblin that I referred to earlier caused me to think less about the two-dimensional layers of oil color and more about the potential for creating the illusion of three-dimensional space by manipulating the layers of transparent and opaque color with various pigments and glazes,” Gellatly explains. “Painting has become a conduit to exploring atmosphere and light, particularly the conditions typically found in the Pacific Northwest, where I live with my wife and two-year-old son. I titled my most recent exhibition Northwest Conditions because each of the paintings represented a time, place, and set of conditions specific to Oregon, Washington, Alaska, and other locations where I recently worked.”

Gellatly explains that almost three-quarters of his work is done on site, either near his home or in locations where he travels on business, and the paintings on panels or prepared paper fall into three categories. “The first group are those that have failed miserably and just get tacked to my studio wall, never to be seen by the public,” he says with a laugh. “The second group includes those plein air paintings that are successful enough to stand as finished works of art. Finally, there is the biggest of the three groups, the paintings that serve as studies for larger studio paintings.

Gorge am
2007, oil, 12 x 12.

“I really like the immediacy of working outdoors without any preconceived ideas,” Gellatly says. “As I’m working in the landscape I edit what I see so I can paint the essence of the place. I always want to strike that balance between the specific and the general, or the aspects of the landscape that are associated with one place and those that more universal characteristics of nature. I want viewers of the paintings to sense they are looking at a sky in the Northwest or the Southwest and yet not know exactly where I was painting.”

Some of the plein air sketches that Gellatly takes back to his studio become springboards for larger pictures, usually developed according to a specific set of definitions. “I like to establish a set of rules or parameters, in part to help connect one picture to another and, at the same time, to give me a unified body of work I can exhibit,” he explains. “For example, in 2006 all the studio paintings related to a national wildlife refuge near my home, and in 2007 the pictures all had square formats.”

Clear Horizon
2007, oil, 12 x 12.

Most all of Gellatly’s paintings are created on Ampersand Gessobords sealed with Gamblin’s alkyd Oil Painting Ground, and he modifies his Gamblin oil colors with a medium made from 50% Gamsol solvent and 50% Galkyd alkyd medium. Towards the end of the painting process he mixes the colors with Gamblin’s Neo Meglip, and he later applies a layer of Gamvar picture varnish to protect the surfaces and give the paintings a unified satin finish. The specific palette of Gamblin colors he uses includes titanium white, Indian yellow, quinacridone red, ultramarine blue, transparent earth red, manganese blue, cadmium yellow, chromatic black (for a cool dark), and Van brown (for a warm dark).

Whether working outdoors or in the studio, Gellatly begins by blocking in the elements of a landscape on prepared Ampersand Gessobords using Gamblin’s transparent earth red, and then he paints the local colors over that base. “The great thing about the transparent earth red is that it allows me to suggest a range of values depending on how thick or thin I apply it to the board, I can easily wipe away paint when I want to establish highlights. The overall warm tone serves as a useful foundation for the local colors,” he explains. “When working in the studio, I allow those warm tones to dry, I adjust the composition, and then I move to the wider palette of colors; but on location I just paint right into the wet layers of transparent earth red.”

To learn more about the educational programs offered by Gamblin Artist’s Colors, visit the company’s website at www.gamblincolors.com.

About the Artist
Scott Gellatly earned an Associate of Arts degree from Portland Community College and a B.F.A. degree from the University of Oregon. He taught painting in the Art-Zones/Continuing Education program at Bellevue Community College before accepting his position as Technical Support Representative for Gamblin Artist’s Oil Colors in 2005. His paintings have been exhibited in group and solo shows at Brian Marki Fine Art, in Portland, Oregon and various other venues in the Pacific Northwest. For more information on Gellatly, visit his website at www.scottgellatly.com.

Oil Painting: Using Subtle Grays in Still Life Painting

American Artist — Tue, 20 Nov 2007 10:59:00 GMT

Two masters of still life painting have much to teach us about developing our paintings.

by Joseph Gyurcsak

Ochre & Blue Gray
2007, oil, 12 x 16.
Collection the artist.

Two of the most admired masters of still life painting are the Italian artist Giorgio Morandi (1890–1964) and the French painter Paul Cézanne (1839–1906). They are revered because artists can learn a great deal from studying their paintings and trying to understand how they dealt with a selection of common objects, a composition of interrelated forms, the subtle manipulation of harmonious colors, and a unified light arrangement.

I want to discuss some key components in the creation of a still life oil painting by providing a step-by-step demonstration based on my understanding of Morandi and Cézanne. Whether you are a beginner or an advanced painter, this demo will help improve your approach to still life painting.

My painting Subtle Grays is a still life created within a two-hour period using an alla prima technique (painting in one sitting). The oil painting was inspired by the compositions, subjects, and colors of Morandi, who worked with similar objects and a limited palette to create some of the most magnificent still life paintings ever made. His paintings are useful reminders of how rich a still life subject can be if one understands and embraces the genre. What at first appears simplistic becomes complex as one emulates Morandi’s subtle use of muted color and visible brushwork.

Subtle Grays was carefully modeled so it wouldn’t lose the spontaneity implied by the brushmarks. More detail does not necessarily enhance a painting. In fact, careful editing often has more impact than excessive elaboration. It’s important for an artist to constantly observe and edit as his or her painting takes shape.
The colors I used in creating this painting were Naples yellow, yellow ochre, cadmium red light, burnt sienna, ultramarine blue, and titanium white. My palette choice was limited, and that helped in establishing color harmony. I toned my canvas with a light wash of burnt sienna in advance (establishing an imprimatura), and let the surface dry thoroughly for a few weeks before starting the still life. I thinned the burnt-sienna oil color with a small amount of Utrecht Alkyd Glazing Medium to ensure that the color would not become reinstated to its wet properties once the painting process began.

One of the key ways to achieve excellent gray mixtures is not to take the shortcut of using blacks or premixed grays but, rather, to use various color combinations. For example, when I wanted a gray-green for my demonstration, I combined ultramarine blue and yellow ochre and added permanent alizarin crimson to deepen and mute the color to the approximate color temperature and value I needed. I always mix the secondary color and then add a complement of opposite value and temperature. The result of this method is always a rich-bodied gray that has more depth. Both Cézanne and Morandi used grays in an exquisite way by making wonderful transitions between the pure colors and the lights and darks.

Fruit Still Life With Tapestry
2000, oil, 20 x 24.
Collection the artist.

Selecting a Subject
We all have tendencies, habits, or preferences. At the end of the day, the only really important thing is that we paint what excites us. Our paintings are more likely to have that personal “X factor” when we paint with passion.

That being said, I would suggest that you consider going outside your comfort zone from time to time to gain a broader understanding of yourself and the creative process in which you are engaged. For example, if you are attempting a still life painting, work from an arrangement of objects you wouldn’t normally group together. Another idea would be to visit an antique shop and discover old pots, pans, bottles, and other kitchen utensils that might allow you to tell a story through their worn appearance. Finally, select objects simply because of their shape, color, texture, or size and arrange them in a way that contrasts their appearance.

In the case of my demonstration, I focused on some very old, discolored bottles, a candle holder, a pestle, and a few wooden blocks that I arranged on top of a modeling table. I deliberately selected pieces that lacked strong color because I wanted to challenge myself to delve into the subtlety of the color relationships rather than an obvious contrast between vastly different surfaces.

Composing a Still Life
Once you select items of interest, place them where you can view them from different heights and angles—from a bird’s-eye view above, a straight-on vantage point, or a low, worm’s-eye view. This will help you determine the best vantage point from which to have the viewer see the subject. If you aren’t quite sure of the viewpoint from which to paint the objects, make thumbnail sketches or flip through the pages of a book on still life painting to see what other artists have done. Consider how their compositions suggest balanced order, anticipated movement, unsettling disarray, or mysterious uncertainty.

When you finally lock in a composition, it may present a very complex image or one that is quite simple. You’ll quickly see this decision-making process is an essential step in the creation of a painting. Take your time, absorb the subject, be with it, let it speak to you, trust your intuition, and you will know when it is right.

For this demonstration, I arranged a composition at eye level so the variations came not from the spatial relationships but from the differences in color, height, and shape.

The Importance of Lighting
Once you have an arrangement of objects and an established vantage point, it’s then time to bring on the light. It may come through a sunlit window as a strong warm stream of light or with north-facing exposure as cool, even light creating softer edges with blue-gray tones. Incandescent lamps can illuminate objects with strong directional lighting, creating hard edges, and can heighten areas of light that could be sharply defined.

Mustard Jar and Brown Bottles
2007, oil, 12 x 16.
Collection the artist.

Artists often recommend north light for a painting studio because it is a steady glow of cool light that creates warm shadows. They find that preferable to a shifting pattern of warm sunlight and cool shadows. No single lighting situation is right or wrong. Each is different and establishes varying relationships between the intensity and temperature of the colors. North light tends to remain steady, allowing a subject to be painted over a long period of time without the light changing during the normal course of a day. Natural light offers the chance to work with the warm, golden light available at the beginning and end of the day; the stark, overhead sunlight at noon; or the silhouetted pattern of dark shapes against the light that has dropped below the horizon in the late afternoon.

If you don’t like the thought of dealing with unpredictable patterns of natural light, or if your schedule only allows time for painting at night, artificial lighting can provide you with unlimited hours for painting a subject. Some artists view incandescent lights as a disadvantage because they are warm in temperature and remove most of the coolness of a subject.

An important fact about lighting your subject with anything below 5500 Kelvin (a rating of the color of the bulb that best assimilates natural light) is that the artificial light will appear warm. Some light bulbs on the market offer a better balance of light to help you get cooler colors in your painting. For example, many artists use Chromalux full-spectrum incandescent light bulbs mounted in a Daylight professional artist’s lamp or a combination lamp.

Lighting is the unique component that enables you to establish either vivid or dull coloring, shading, highlighting, or flat tones on your subject. This is a key decision in creating atmosphere around your subject. Many great still life paintings use lighting as a main theme. For example, if you arrange objects so a few of them are illuminated by a strong light and a few others are in the dark, you will create great drama and depth in your painting. However way you chose to light your subject, remember you have a tremendous tool at your disposal to influence the overall effect of how your subject appears and how viewers are likely to respond to it. Cézanne knew this well, and he sometimes spent a few weeks setting up his still life arrangements so he had just the right lighting and environment.

I used a combination lamp while creating the painting Subtle Grays. My work schedule does not always permit me to paint under natural lighting conditions, so I set up this still life painting in my studio late at night using balanced bulbs or florescent lights that carry the same color temperature as natural light.
The decision of how to direct the light on the objects was guided by a Morandi painting that was generally lit in a flatter type lighting that did not cast large shadows. Painting flatter light is certainly much more difficult to record because it relies more on tonal color shifts than cast shadows, distinct middle tones, and sharp highlights. It also requires a painter to be more sensitive to observing temperature shifts.

Color Mixing Within a Limited Range
It often happens that one color harmony dominates a still life, while two or three others play supportive roles in the drama. If you aren’t sure what that harmony should be, place a sheet of white paper on a flat surface within the general areas of the subject, and then place a small white object on that paper so it will immediately reveal to you what the color temperature of your cast shadows should be in terms of its warmth or coolness. The illuminated area will automatically be the opposite temperature. Having that information will help you mix colors more accurately in terms of the correct color temperature of your shadows, middle tones, and light areas.

Still Life on Suite
2006, oil, 8 x 10.
Collection the artist.

For example, if the overall tone of your subject is bathed in a warm light you may have color combinations such as yellows, reds, and oranges in the light and middle tone areas. The shadow areas will include combinations of blues, violets, and cool greens.

In order to realize a harmony of colors, it helps to establish color mixtures using a limited palette of four to six tube colors rather than a wide assortment of a dozen or more. It is also recommended to use white sparingly to avoid weakening a color’s chroma. It is more advantageous to heighten the value of a color by mixing lighter-value colors to it, such as Naples yellow light or cadmium lemon yellow instead of whites. I recommend using small amounts of white in order to maintain color intensity. Similarly, I suggest neutralizing color mixtures by adding a pigment’s complementary counterpart. The more familiar you become with a color’s unique properties, the more success you will have with color mixing because you will gain greater color control, consistency, and harmony.

The photograph of my palette clearly shows how my colors were arranged and premixed. I established large piles of color and focused on mixing all the main spots of color I observed in the subject. Using fewer colors in the painting does not necessarily mean using less volume. John Singer Sargent and Joaquín Sorolla y Bastida applied generous amounts of oil color to make their brushstrokes quite apparent. Artists who witnessed Sorolla at work commented that he squeezed out entire tubes of color on his palette before starting his demonstrations.

Value, Color, and Shape Beget Form
Once artists learn to see big spots of color and not details, they focus on value relationship, color temperature, and shape. When they strip away objective notions about the identity of the subject, they are free to create with tremendous expression. And when their drawing is accurate and their colors are mixed well, a lack of detail doesn’t detract from the recognizable subject matter emerging and reading as the subject of the painting.

Cézanne had the ability to juggle lines and forms with just the right attention to both. It is rare for an artist to command such a balance because most painters favor one or the other. The volumes of his painted shapes were sometimes broad, flat tones and, at other times, turned from light to shadow. The line qualities are calculated colors with strong directional movements that vibrate against the mass shapes. He relied on those lines to hold the contour of the object so that his orchestrated broken tones or open tones of color could retain their freshness.

Knowing When to Stop
In my painting classes, I often advise students to stop, put their brushes down, back away from their painting, and assess their creative experience. They need to evaluate what they already expressed and then determine how to go further—or to stop while they are ahead.

Traveling Show
2006, oil, 11 x 14.
Collection the artist.

I make a point of taking a break every 20 to 30 minutes to review my work from a distance. It’s always surprising to see how things look from a few steps back, and it helps to view a developing painting from a different angle, or to put it away for a few days and look at it with fresh vision. Painting is more than a process of applying oil colors to canvas. It’s one in which thoughts and feelings are expressed. As those become evident in the picture, artists have to guard against overstating them or working the canvas until the image becomes stiff and inexpressive.

About the Artist
Joseph Gyurcsak studied art at Parsons The New School for Design and the School of Visual Arts, both in New York City. He began his professional career in the late 1980s as a freelance illustrator working for advertising and publishing clients. He is currently the resident artist/brand manager at Utrecht Art Supply, in New Jersey, and teaches and lectures around the country on behalf of the company. The artist is represented by Bucks Gallery of Fine Art, in Newtown, Pennsylvania, and Gallery RoCa, in Havre DeGrace, Maryland. For more information on Gyurcsak, visit his website at www.josephgyurcsak.com.

Oil Painting: SPONSORED CONTENT: Artist Behind the Brand: Robert Gamblin of Gamblin Artist’s Colors

American Artist — Mon, 10 Sep 2007 10:30:00 GMT

Robert Gamblin developed his art career and paint manufacturing business by learning how quality paints are made and how they can be used safely and effectively in the studio.

by M. Stephen Doherty

Evening Makena
2007, oil, 24 x 18.
Collection the artist.

The best art-materials companies are often headed by someone with a deep understanding and appreciation of artists. That is certainly the case with Gamblin Artist’s Colors, of Portland, Oregon, which was founded by Robert Gamblin, a painter who trained at the University of Oregon and the San Francisco Art Institute. Working with his wife and partner, Martha Bergman, Gamblin brought his personal vision to the firm, and even though he is no long involved in the day-to-day activities of the company, it continues to be guided by that vision. That concept, which is based in largely on Gamblin’s own needs as a painter, includes providing products that are superior in quality, reasonably priced, safe to work with, and effective in helping artists create permanent works of art. Moreover, Gamblin’s vision also includes an educational program that helps artists gain a better understanding of the often confusing, arcane, and variable nature of artists’ materials.

Artists responded enthusiastically to Gamblin’s vision when he launched his company in the early 1980s, in large part because he understood their expectations of how paints should perform, their need for a safe working environment, their receptiveness to innovative products, and their frustration that other companies were eliminating products because they didn’t appeal to a mass market. Retailers also appreciated Gamblin’s willingness to spend a significant amount of time traveling to art schools, ateliers, and studios to teach artists and make them aware of his products.

Champoeg Summer
2003, oil, 24 x 18.
Collection Michael Hoeye and Martha Banyas.

According to Gamblin, his vision was formulated just as much while he was working in his kitchen as it did when he was in his art studio. “For 13 years after I graduated from art school, I educated myself about how to make the quality paints, mediums, varnish, and grounds I wanted to use,” he explains. “The process was very similar to my becoming a good cook. It started with research into ingredients and recipes; developed through years of searching for the best materials and testing them; and ended up with me being able to offer healthy, satisfying, and personalized products that others could appreciate and consume.”

Dream in Tangerine 2005, oil, 72 x 48.
Collection Vic Petroff.

Among the special “dishes” Gambin prepared for artists was Gamvar, a water-clear varnish that is superior to the traditional varnishes artists used for centuries. “Rene de la Rie, a conservation scientist at the National Gallery in Washington, spent 10 years trying to come up with a varnish that was safer to use in the studio, didn’t yellow with age, and wouldn’t cause colors to lose their saturation,” Gamblin explains. “I worked with Rene and the staff of the National Gallery to develop Gamvar.”

Among the other products Gamblin developed are Gamsol, an odorless mineral spirits solvent; Galkyd, an alkyd medium available as a gel or a fluid liquid, that speeds up the drying time of oil colors; Artists Sketching Oils, a student grade of paint made with quality extenders; flake white replacement, a safe alternative to lead-white paint; and Radiant Colors, eight tinted colors that facilitate painting in the traditional manner of first applying bright colors and then modulating those by applying thin glazes when the initial layers of paint are dry.

In addition to sharing his knowledge with the students, teachers, and professional artists he visited, Gamblin and Berger produced an animated, three-dimensional program on color mixing titled Navigating Color Space; and they posted a great deal of information for artists on his company’s website (www.gamblincolors.com/colors1). Navigating Color Space is a DVD program the couple created to show painters how to access the universe of color he calls Color Space. “The animated sequences demonstrate how to define a color by its attributes: value, hue, and intensity (chroma),” he explains. “During the program, I demonstrate a few of the secrets of the Old Masters so you, too, will know how to mix green and red into blue. We spent $60,000 producing the DVD and it doesn’t directly sell any of our products, because our intention was strictly educational.”

One of the most useful sections of the Gamblin company website is a description of various color palettes of oils one might use to achieve specific effects. Lists of tube colors are offered to artists who want to work with a basic high-key selection of oils, the modern equivalents of paints used by the Impressionists, a limited number of transparent glaze colors, a basic landscape palette, a more specialized landscape palette, and recommendations for emulating the Old Masters.

Dovecoat au Crepuscule
2005, oil, 16 x 10.
Collection Forbes magazine.

When asked whether the two recommended landscape palettes matched the colors he uses, Gamblin said his personal selection varies depending on the location where he is working. “No matter where I am, I lay out at least 10 colors so I can use a warm and cool version of pigments that represent a balanced color wheel,” he explains. “There will always be transparent burnt orange, yellow ochre, and a chromatic black; but the rest will depend on the light and atmosphere in the landscape. If, for example, I’m in New Mexico, I’ll have cobalt green and a selection of reds appropriate for the desert.

“Artists often talk about using a limited palette, but the truth is they are all limited because no palette has room for the 100+ tube colors available.” Gamblin explains. “The real question is whether or not artists have selected colors that are balanced around the color wheel. Beyond that, they need to understand the characteristics of pigments in terms of their intensity and temperature.”

Not Green
2004, oil, 24 x 18.
Collection the artist.

Not surprisingly, one of the issues that concerns Gamblin in terms of his own painting activity is balancing the seemingly conflicting nature of artists’ colors. “I haven’t mounted a major exhibition of my paintings in some time because I’ve been trying to synthesize competing ideas about landscape painting,” he explains. “I’ve wanted to see how approaches to the classical and Impressionist approaches to landscape painting might be forced into the same funnel and result in Expressionism. I think I’ve worked it out privately, and I’m happily coming to the end of that discovery process and I will soon be ready to exhibit my pictures.”

For more information on Gamblin Artist’s Colors or on Robert Gamblin, visit the company’s website at www.gamblincolors.com.

M. Stephen Doherty is the editor-in-chief of American Artist.

Oil Painting: Heavy Paint, Big Brushes, and No Cleanup: The Paintings of Ken Auster

American Artist — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 09:45:00 GMT

This California artist pursues an aggressive, take-no-prisoners approach to plein air painting.

by John A. Parks

Dos Roses
2006, oil, 12 x 9.
Courtesy Red Piano Art Gallery,
Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.

Ken Auster uses loads of thick paint and puts it on fast, building juicy layers with a deft touch to achieve powerful illusions and rich surfaces. His recent work covers a huge variety of subjects including cityscapes, restaurant interiors, beach scenes, landscapes, and still lifes. “If it moves, I paint it,” quips the artist. “I like to say that I have a short attention span. The moment I start to feel that I’m losing interest I look around for something else to paint.” If he’s not painting outside, Auster searches out his subject matter from one of the plastic trash bags filled with slides that lie around his studio. “I never make a painting of a place that I haven’t actually visited,” he says. “Usually if I go out and paint a scene, I’ll also take photos and make some extra sketches so that I have more subject matter to work from back in the studio.” Auster never develops a larger painting strictly from a sketch. “I think you lose the edge of spontaneity when you do that,” he says. “You lose that sense of adventure and searching that you get when you first confront a scene.” Having his slides stored in a completely disorganized fashion means that the artist never knows what images he’s going to come up with when he dives into his collection—something that he feels adds to the general excitement of his day. And excitement is what this artist feeds on. In the paintings themselves, the pure joy of discovery and immediate response is celebrated again and again in brilliantly dashing brushwork that suggests he relishes risk-taking. Colors are dragged over one another, and shapes are pulled and pushed so that the image seems to emerge from an explosive tempest of brushing. Painting, it would seem, is second nature to Auster. So it’s a surprise to discover just how long it took him to take up the art.

Gallery

To view a gallery of additional paintings by Auster, click here.

“When I got out of art school in the late 1960s, I got involved in silk-screen printing,” says the artist. “In those days nobody had ever really done much with silk-screened T-shirts, and I started making them for the surfing crowd.” Auster was, and still is, a committed Californian surfer. His silk-screen business grew quickly, and soon he was designing shirts and images for major surfboard companies, surfing resorts, and other surf-related enterprises.

Even though the business was very commercial, Auster believes that the experience taught him a great deal about art. “In the early years,” he says, “you couldn’t do much with silkscreen on a T-shirt—you’d be limited to one or two colors. So the challenge was to make them do as much as possible.” The artist discovered how to manipulate color overlays to make images richer. He also began to introduce modulated areas by mixing the color with a squeegee so that a color change occurred across a given area when it was printed. “I did some business in Japan,” he says, “and got interested in the way Japanese woodblock printing used limited color to achieve so much in the way of illusion.”

Bridge It
2006, oil, 40 x 40.
Collection the artist.

Eventually Auster began to do fine-art prints of a more complex nature, still focusing on surfing images. “Silk screen is very limiting in a way,” the artist says, “and I found that I’d live for those moments when something just a little unusual happened, when the registration was just slightly different, and some little accident would add something to the print.” Dissatisfied with the demanding technique of silk screen, the artist began to make collages. “I’d just silk-screen color areas, layering the color in all kinds of odd ways, and then I’d tear up the paper.” Working with torn edges and color that was graduated in various ways, Auster began to construct collaged landscapes. “I couldn’t believe how strong an image I could get that way,” says the artist. “It really taught me to think about building an image by massing shapes and relating values instead of worrying about line and contour. I had to make adjustments by simply moving shapes and building them together. In retrospect it was great training for painting, only at the time I didn’t know it.”

Four or five years after he began working in collage, Auster took up painting. “I had always dabbled with painting a bit, and then one day I went out to do some landscape painting with a group of friends,” he recalls. “Everyone seemed to be having a bit of a hard time, but I found that things were going great. It seemed simple to me. I put on the color and moved it around kind of like I did with collage. Since we only had a couple of hours I couldn’t mess with it too much. Everyone was impressed with what I did, and when I got it home and looked at it I was excited. I guess you could say that chance favors the prepared mind.”

Merrie Old Souls
2006, oil, 36 x 48.
Courtesy Thomas Reynolds Gallery,
San Francisco, California.

The artist has never looked back. He soon began to win competitions and quickly secured gallery representation, selling out a number of shows. Today he operates his own gallery and also runs plein air painting workshops several times a year, attended by people from all over the world. Auster, an energetic talker, clearly enjoys this part of his life.

Auster also believes that the plein air movement has been very healthy for artists in a number of different ways. “It’s given a social environment to a lot of artists,” he says. “It’s something painters can enjoy together, as a group. And it’s brought a lot more collectors in. People get it right away—they understand what you are doing and they can get involved in looking at the pictures in a very direct way.”

Whether he is working outdoors or in the studio, Auster uses a technique that stays more or less the same. “In the studio, I use paint from quart jars, and gallon jars for the white,” he says. “When I’m out in the field, I just use the big tubes.” The artist favors a brand of paint called Classic Art Oils, which is made by a small company in the San Francisco area. Auster doesn’t use an underpainting but simply begins work with a “big, angry brush.” His canvas is cotton duck, primed with acrylic gesso, over which he paints a layer of outdoor latex house paint. “It makes the surface less absorbent,” he says, “so the paint just sits on the top and looks luscious.”

Shake It Up Baby
2001, oil, 11 x 14.
Courtesy Howard
Mandville Gallery, Kirkland, Washington.

As he gets going with a painting, Auster is very conscious of looking for a clear abstract design in his subject, and it is this that he paints first. “I say to my students that underneath every great painting is a great abstract painting,” he says. “I’m looking for a bold, clear structure.” Generally the artist will have the whole canvas covered within a half-hour. “The paint is pretty thick even at this stage,” he says, “although I tend to keep the darks a little thinner than the lights.” Auster will then begin to work back on top of the image, dragging and pushing the paint into thick, wet layers. “I never add anything to the paint,” he says. “Sometimes I mix colors with a palette knife, but often I dip my brushes right into the jars and simply mix it on the canvas.” Keeping the paint as it comes out of the tube or jar instead of adding a medium means that the artist always knows what consistency he is dealing with—knowledge that he finds aids his very physical approach. “It’s important to keep down the number of variables,” says the artist, “so that you can concentrate on the important stuff. If I know my paint and know my brushes then all I have to worry about is me.”

Auster will keep building the painting wet-in-wet until the picture is finished, often engaging in spectacular manipulations. “A painting is done when it does what I wanted it to do,” he says. The artist admits that he is very interested in how paintings can appear to be merely paint strokes at one distance and then take on powerful illusory properties from just a little farther away. “I love that back-and-forth between paint and image,” he says. As for studio practice, Auster admits that he’s not much for organization or cleaning up. “Cleanup just isn’t in my vocabulary,” he says. “I never wash my brushes—I just have them sit overnight in a bowl of turpentine and then I start in with them the next day. My studio is covered in paint.” The artist uses sheets of wax paper for palettes, simply discarding them once they are awash in too much paint and starting over. “Some artists will tell you that you’ve got to look after everything and be organized and so on,” he says. “But me? I take the cap off a tube of paint and just forget about it—it’s already lost.”

California Dreamin’
2006, oil, 76 x 56.
Collection the artist.

Auster believes that his years as a silk-screen artist aided his sense of design and his understanding of color, but he believes that painting is a “dance between passion and the intellect.” Both of these qualities must come into play to make a painting succeed. This idea can be seen at work in Cat’s Paws, a street scene in which an enormous shadow divides the canvas on a diagonal, and is supported on either side by illuminated buildings. The powerful perspective leads to a view out over the harbor bathed in soft sunlight. Against all this intellectual order, the brush works as an exciting and challenging force conjuring the metal panels of the vehicles and the heavy asphalt of the road out of the very stuff of the paint itself. A further, poetic touch is added with the brilliant red brake lights of the receding cars—spotted onto the canvas in thick wedges of paint. Again, in California Dreamin’ the artist constructs a very intellectual design in which a huge shadow takes up the front of the scene while a line of buildings recedes in a soft light toward a glimpse of the girders of the Golden Gate Bridge. Here the artist toys with the scale of the small streetcar making its way through the cavern of buildings. Again, the architecture of the painting is infused with a dynamic energy as the brush magically whisks and drags the paint until it takes on a variety of illusions. The glint of the streetcar tracks, the weighty grays of the asphalt, the weathered brick of the buildings, and the moisture-filled veils of the harbor are all brought to life by the action of the brush and the artist’s energetic manipulation of the paint.

I Think Your Wax is Melting
2006, oil, 7 x 12.
Collection the artist.

Auster chooses his subject matter based entirely on whether or not it presents an itch that needs to be scratched. “Generally I like scenes with figures,” he says. “I’m drawn to the human drama in a landscape or an interior.” Auster believes that too many artists start out by painting pretty or pleasing subject matter. “Paintings are much more interesting when they have ugly subject matter that’s beautifully painted,” he says. “Sometimes, driving around a city, I love to stop at a red light and take a photograph of some scene that nobody would ever think could merit a painting.” Not surprisingly, Auster is a great admirer of the Ashcan School—of painters such as John Sloane and George Bellows, who painted vivid and painterly pictures of the nitty-gritty of city life. Among his other influences Auster names the veteran California painter Dan McCaw, who also enjoys manipulating luscious surfaces into dazzling illusions.

As for the future, Auster says that he is going to be painting much bigger. “Bigger really is better,” he laughs. “A larger painting has so much more authority and gets a lot more attention.” It also presents more challenges. “I think that almost anything can work small,” he says. “When you get to a medium size, you have to use a little more intellect. But when you get big, you really have to think about it.” When he first got up to seven or eight feet, Auster was surprised to find how much exercise he was getting walking back and forth to get a good sense of the painting. “It’s not quite as bad now,” he says. “I’m beginning to find out how the painting looks from 15 feet away even while I’m still close-up.” One of the advantages of large paintings, he feels, is that they don’t sell quite so quickly. “They’re hanging up in the gallery longer,” he says, “so more people get time to see them. And I think that’s great.”

About the Artist
Ken Auster grew up in Long Beach, California, and began surfing at an early age. While he was attending Long Beach State University, he built a successful business silk-screening T-shirts for the surfing community, inventing images that would later be considered emblematic of the surfing culture. In 1967 he moved to Hawaii and began making designs for surfing equipment companies, as well as designs for clothing and accessories. In the early 1990s he took up plein air painting and quickly achieved success in the form of prizes and sold-out exhibitions. Today he makes his home in Laguna Beach, California, where he paints, runs an art gallery in nearby Laguna Canyon with his wife, Paulette Martinson, and gives plein air workshops. Known for his thick paint and lavish surfaces, he is currently working on much larger paintings. Auster has finished a DVD on his technique; for more information, e-mail the artist at kauster@kenauster.com.

John A. Parks is an artist who is represented by Allan Stone Gallery, in New York City. He is also a teacher at the School of Visual Arts, in New York City, and is a frequent contributor to American Artist, Drawing, Watercolor, and Workshop magazines.

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Dan Thompson's June 13th Chat Transcript

American Artist — Thu, 14 Jun 2007 18:35:00 GMT

Read the transcript from our online chat with artist-instructor Dan Thompson. If you have more thoughts to share, chat with your peers on Artists' Forum, and check back for more online chats with featured artists.

2007-06-13 12:00:02.0
Administrator: You have joined a chat with Dan Thompson, a top artist-instructor who has been highlighted in Workshop magazine. Feel free to ask him some questions and to join in the discussion. Sponsored by the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art.

2007-06-13 11:54:00.0
Pentimento: Does he have one of those "kitchen sink" palettes, with 50 colors?

2007-06-13 12:01:13.0
Dan Thompson: Pentimento, I should use a kitchen-sink palette, but I don't. I use a palette I bought in France, about 25” x 20”, it holds about 25 colors. I have no tints. All those radiant colors I love, but I don't use them because that would add to the complexity of my palette. I only have on my palette what I feel I can't live without. For example, phthalo turquoise. What other colors can make that?

2007-06-13 12:04:30.0
Germaine: Hello, what colors do you have on your palette besides turquoise?

2007-06-13 12:05:30.0
Dan Thompson: Germaine, I can't list all 25 here, but they will be in the transcript tomorrow. Anyone who would like to email me at dan@danthompsonart.com will get a complete materials list.

2007-06-13 12:03:08.0
MSD: do you select the colors in terms of warms and cools?

2007-06-13 12:04:08.0
Dan Thompson: MSD, I sort of do. My palette is laid out like a color wheel. I start with cold violet. Then I go from blues to greens to yellows, and I end up on other side of the palette in warm violet.

2007-06-13 12:03:42.0
Kendra: Hi Dan, I'm so glad to be apart of the discussion. Do you use the white-to-black shading chart as you paint?

2007-06-13 12:06:42.0
Dan Thompson: Kendra, I do not, but I was trained in that method. I have made quite a few white-to-black charts. But I have found some interesting information from the Creative llustration book by Loomis. He describes how such a chart was used by Pyle. Check it out--it's interesting.

2007-06-13 12:05:04.0
MSD: these are built over the "grisaille" of an earth color and white?

2007-06-13 12:07:46.0
Dan Thompson: MSD, yes, I start out with a toned canvas (neutral gray). N6 by Golden Acrylics, to be specific about the gesso. Then the block in is with raw umber and flake white.

2007-06-13 12:05:19.0
wilybrad: Do you have a preferred brand of paint?

2007-06-13 12:08:53.0
Dan Thompson: Wilybrad, I use three or four brands. For cadmiums, Old Holland. Winsor & Newton for a variety of colors. I like Gamblin paints. And I like some of the Graham colors, like their raw sienna. I also occasionally use some Williamsburg paints, like Pompeii red. I think it's a good question because different brands have different colors by the same name. Like Indian yellow by Winsor & Newton has a unique character to it that you don't find in other Indian yellows.

2007-06-13 12:05:41.0
Joan: How do you decide about the background to a portrait?

2007-06-13 12:10:43.0
Dan Thompson: Joan, you mean in terms of color? When the person is in front of me, I arrange what inspires me, what catches my eye, in terms of composition and to help me clarify skin colors.

2007-06-13 12:08:45.0
Pentimento: Was you teacher at your Atelier also a high chroma painter?

2007-06-13 12:11:34.0
Dan Thompson: Pentimento, I studied with quite a few people, some of whom were high chroma, and some of whom were not.

2007-06-13 12:12:15.0
Dan Thompson: There were some great high chroma painters, like Cedric Egeli, Nelson Shanks, Dan Neidhardt, and Stephen Perkins. And Sammy Britt. They were all students of Henry Hensche.

2007-06-13 12:10:49.0
wilybrad: What support do you prefer, board, cotton, linen?

2007-06-13 12:12:49.0
Dan Thompson: wilybrad, linen, always. For color studies you can use anything, tho.

2007-06-13 12:11:32.0
Joan: I mean, in terms of whether to leave it monochromatic, or suggest objects in the background, etc.

2007-06-13 12:13:57.0
Dan Thompson: Joan, when you are painting somebody's portrait and it’s a serious endeavor, everything in the background is important. There is no such thing as 'I didn't think about how I composed it.' You either composed it well, or you composed it poorly.

2007-06-13 12:11:58.0
Administrator: You have joined a chat with Dan Thompson, a top artist-instructor who has been highlighted in Workshop magazine. Feel free to ask him some questions and to join in the discussion. Sponsored by the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art.

2007-06-13 12:12:01.0
Linda Dulaney: Sadie here on Linda's account - which artists do you feel are your greatest influences?

2007-06-13 12:15:32.0
Dan Thompson: Sadie, I can address some artists that are not living that are huge influences: Sorolla, Velazquez, Hensche...Annigoni.

2007-06-13 12:13:24.0
hellfish: do you use color that may be considered fugitive…or do you tend to stay away from them

2007-06-13 12:14:19.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, I generally stay away from them.

2007-06-13 12:14:50.0
Alli: Dan, regarding the ties you make between painting and music, what is it exactly that you see as musical in the painting process? Is it in the drawing? Applying the color? The balancing of elements throughout a work?

2007-06-13 12:16:35.0
Dan Thompson: Alli, I think the first and foremost is the balancing of elements throughout the work. We have to find a way to take our own knowledge base and weave it into an effortless practice. There should be something organic about that--that to me is quite musical.

2007-06-13 12:17:04.0
Dan Thompson: When it comes to the color, there has to be a harmony that governs how anything is lit so that the colors all add up to become that light condition. I regard that as musical.

2007-06-13 12:17:18.0
Alli: This is true. Ingres said, “If I could make musicians of you all, you would thereby profit as painters. Everything in nature is harmony; a little too much, or else too little, disturbs the scale and makes a false note. One must teach the point of singing true with the pencil or with brush quite as much as with the voice; rightness of forms is like rightness of sounds.” Sounds like you’re on the same page (or shall I say sheet?)!

2007-06-13 12:18:21.0
Dan Thompson: Alli, that's great. I recommend Charles Woodbury's Painting and the Personal Equation. He has wonderful things to say about this musical analogy.

2007-06-13 12:17:41.0
hellfish: Mr. Thompson, do you listen to music when you paint..if so, what?

2007-06-13 12:19:07.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, good question. My range goes from classical Persian to heavy metal thrash. (Slayer)

2007-06-13 12:18:51.0
NE: Hi Dan-- I have a question about Grand Central Academy: I hear the academy teaches several different ways to paint, as opposed to ateliers that focus on one method. How exactly does this work and what made you all decide on this method?

2007-06-13 12:21:31.0
Dan Thompson: NE, it's an excellent question. I'm trying to think of a succinct way of saying this. It is about classicism. I believe that the four of us who created Grand Central share a lot in the way that we work. There is something in each of us when we paint that is idealized, which is classical. We haven't really sat down and tried to define this. But i think it makes a better school if people who have the same general ideas get together because the richness of the experiences make for a more comprehensive program. If it were one person's way of teaching it would be one-dimensional.

2007-06-13 12:21:37.0
hellfish: would you say that SLAYER"S Reign in Blood is one of the greatest metal albums of ALL TIME

2007-06-13 12:21:55.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, no question about it.

2007-06-13 12:21:55.0
Rob: When you begin to paint in color, over your grisaille, do you apply the paint in terms of underlying form, flat shapes, color/temperature of the light? Is it a combination of all those? Which one is most important to you?

2007-06-13 12:24:26.0
Dan Thompson: Rob, form has no bearing in the beginning. Form is not considered. I am trying to forget about, momentarily, what I am seeing and lay down flat colored masses. Hopefully the biggest five or six will assemble themselves in the proper relationship identifying the truth of the light. From there I will start thinking about form.

2007-06-13 12:22:38.0
Pentimento: Dan: In your early training, did you copy Bargue’s plates? Are you a proponent of 19th century teaching methodologies? What have you arrived at in terms of teaching "beliefs"?

2007-06-13 12:26:17.0
Dan Thompson: Pentimento, beliefs are quite varied depending on who you are working with. I think the Bargue plates are a good idea, even tho I didn't copy them. To me it's the closest thing we can get to a videotape of the 19th century classroom. They were encapsulating very big technical exercises into these plates. It's helpful for the "thinking" of the thing, to copy a few and test one’s self. It's not just part of a tradition--there's real validity to it.

2007-06-13 12:23:42.0
Administrator: You have joined a chat with Dan Thompson, a top artist-instructor who has been highlighted in Workshop magazine. Feel free to ask him some questions and to join in the discussion. Sponsored by the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art.

2007-06-13 12:24:24.0
Kendra: Dan, what name and company creates the yellow you use to capture sunlight? How do you shade/tint it from outdoor to what shines indoors?

2007-06-13 12:27:23.0
Dan Thompson: Kendra, in the way that I studied, we teach sunlight by developing our eyes, so any color on the palette can be used for sunlight.

2007-06-13 12:27:48.0
Kendra: Wow, I never thought of it that way. Smooth.

2007-06-13 12:28:15.0
Dan Thompson: If you were to look at Hensche's chapter on sunlight from The Art of Seeing and Painting, it would clarify this more. But your question about different lights is a really good one. I am always taking my painting into different lights to look at it. My teacher taught me, 'five minutes indoors (with a color study in progress) is worth 20 outdoors.' It's about clarity of vision.

2007-06-13 12:24:44.0
Linda Dulaney: Dan We here at BACAA are so thrilled about you upcoming workshop in the Bay Area. Here we are using very high north light. What light do you normally work with? Thanks, Linda

2007-06-13 12:30:22.0
Dan Thompson: Linda, I have a northwest window in Brooklyn, which can make several light keys. The most interesting for me is in the early morning until about 1 when I get a kind of warm violet. I change my painting for the different light in the afternoon. I work on a different one.

2007-06-13 12:30:50.0
Dan Thompson: I'm excited about the workshop too!

2007-06-13 12:31:21.0
Linda Dulaney: Thank you Dan Really looking forward to it

2007-06-13 12:27:14.0
Pennie: I've been told squint my eyes so that I only see the light and shadows. Do you use this technique?

2007-06-13 12:31:42.0
Dan Thompson: Pennie, I use it in the block-in but not in the color. I think it's helpful in the block-in for the way it simplifies and gives you a clear idea about composition and pattern.

2007-06-13 12:28:14.0
Pentimento: I still can't believe you paint to Slayer...that's crazy:)

2007-06-13 12:31:41.0
hellfish: Mr. Thompson, im currently working on a painting of a squirrel. have you ever painted a squirrel? they are really hard to paint and would love some advice.

2007-06-13 12:32:40.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, I need more info than that.

2007-06-13 12:33:05.0
hellfish: they are tree-dwelling rodents that have a bushy tail

2007-06-13 12:32:16.0
Pennie: How do you determine the direction of your shadows?

2007-06-13 12:33:05.0
Dan Thompson: Pennie, the light determines it, not me. The only way I can determine them is when I am setting the painting up. Once they are there they become the foundation of the painting.

2007-06-13 12:33:40.0
Pennie: I mean, is there a specific direction you prefer to set your light up at for your shadows?

2007-06-13 12:35:48.0
Dan Thompson: Pennie, the upper right is a great place if you are studying, particularly if you are right handed. It's a good point because one should learn these ideas in the best situation possible.

2007-06-13 12:33:21.0
Linda Dulaney: Dan Does the terminator determine the direction of the light.

2007-06-13 12:34:13.0
Dan Thompson: Linda, the light and the terminator are bounded together. I think of the terminator as the key indicator of the light, but not in terms of the direction of the light. The terminator is really a contour line in addition to giving the direction of the light. It's always on the form, we just lose that sense and we need that part of the equation to finish the painting.

2007-06-13 12:33:59.0
Tenacious B: In your demo on the American Artist website, what do you mean by “Plenty of room is left around the color masses to account for the necessary revision of colors“?

2007-06-13 12:37:40.0
Dan Thompson: Tenacious, good question. There's a tendency that I observe in teaching color with the figure--people want to paint all the way out to the edges of the form with the original color mass. This makes the color mass more permanent. It's akin to pressing down really hard in the first strokes of a block-in. Leaving room around the color notes leaves you free to revise them.

2007-06-13 12:35:53.0
Kendra: Dan and Linda, what are you referring to as the "terminator" in determining light direction?

2007-06-13 12:36:14.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, check the store called Evolution in Soho, Spring Street. You may find a stuffed squirrel there!

2007-06-13 12:36:47.0
Linda Dulaney: Dan so does the teminator set the direction if the graduation of value. Thanks, Linda

2007-06-13 12:40:58.0
Dan Thompson: linda, no, I would guess the terminator has more to do with the intensity of the light, the degree to which the form changes from darkest to lightest. I think Linda's question is one we should have while painting the final phase of the ptg. She's essentially asking, what is more valid, the form or the light on it. You are not copying what you see, you are challenging what you see by evaluating it by two different trains of thought if you are considering it both ways.

2007-06-13 12:37:47.0
Pentimento: Dan: Do you paint outdoors, plein air? Do you use a pochade box?

2007-06-13 12:42:00.0
Dan Thompson: Pentimento, I don't use a pochade box. I use an old Ancobilt easel. I also use a Stanright aluminum easel. But maybe I'm just cheap and I should buy a pochade box. But I do paint outdoors.

2007-06-13 12:42:37.0
Pentimento: I'm a cheap person too...I could never buy one of those pochade boxes. The nice ones are like $500

2007-06-13 12:37:59.0
hellfish: im sorry, i dont know what a terminator is though

2007-06-13 12:38:42.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, you are not a real Slayer fan if you say that.

2007-06-13 12:37:48.0
Linda Dulaney: Terminator is the core shadow.

2007-06-13 12:38:00.0
Gilbert: In plein air painting, color is difficult to see. When I bring the paintings under artificial light, they look bleached out. Any ideas on how to prevent this?

2007-06-13 12:42:58.0
Dan Thompson: gilbert, I would challenge yourself to paint scenes that push the colors to their extremes. Paint sunsets. Paint brighter objects outdoors. At the Hensche school, they painted colored blocks.

2007-06-13 12:43:58.0
Dan Thompson: In my evening class in NYC, I have a light that I acquired from a theater, a Broadway lighting co, and we are ptg the figure under colored gels. When we are painting under a crimson gel, you cannot just reach for the Venetian red. It is not going to do the job. In certain situations these tube colors are really not that chromatic. We've been starting with very strong gels and we have been alternating the crimson gel with the blue gel. We are using palette knives, not brushes, btw. Gradually, we put more subtle gels on the lights, until we are just ptg with regular light. We realized in doing that that there's no such thing as a neutral light.

2007-06-13 12:40:10.0
wilybrad: Okay, back to portraits. Do you have favorite colors for skintones? I realize that will vary.

2007-06-13 12:46:12.0
Dan Thompson: wilybrad, my favorite color for skin tones is flake white, because of the texture it can bring. Any color on the palette can be used on the skin--i let the light determine it. that was my point.

2007-06-13 12:40:10.0
Kendra: It is so fun to be surrounded by others equally passionate about art/painting/color/lighting!

2007-06-13 12:40:51.0
Colleen Johns: Dan, what would you recommend for the most fundamental painting book

2007-06-13 12:41:35.0
Kendra: Dan, referring to your 'tendency that you observe in teaching color w/figure--people want to paint all the way out to the edges' Does that imply that you apply the paint and then use another, smaller (cattung) brush to fan the paint out? Or, do you wipe some of your prior paints off?

2007-06-13 12:42:51.0
Administrator: You have joined a chat with Dan Thompson, a top artist-instructor who has been highlighted in Workshop magazine. Feel free to ask him some questions and to join in the discussion. Sponsored by the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art.

2007-06-13 12:43:11.0
hellfish: Mr. Thompson, do you paint from photographs?

2007-06-13 12:50:08.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, no I do not.

2007-06-13 12:44:39.0
Kendra: Dan, referring to your 'tendency that you observe in teaching color w/figure--people want to paint all the way out to the edges' Does that imply that you apply the paint and then use another, smaller (cattung) brush to fan the paint out? Or, do you wipe some of your prior paints off?

2007-06-13 12:49:29.0
Dan Thompson: kendra, no, I am conscious of the surface but I don't take the initial color note and make it the final color note. I have to go through a period of awkwardness before a period of revelation, where I find a finer way of seeing, a finer color. At that time, I am also usually dealing with the form changes.

2007-06-13 12:47:12.0
Dan Thompson: colleen, I've always liked the Harold Speed book. For drawing, I like the Vanderpool book. Try to find an old copy--they have better quality reproductions, and more of them.

2007-06-13 12:48:34.0
Pentimento: You mean the Practice and Science of Drawing and Vanderpool's anatomy book?

2007-06-13 12:51:13.0
Dan Thompson: Pentimento, no, it is called Oil Painting. Vanderpool is a drawing book by John H. Vanderpool. Drawing prof at Chicago Art Institute 1880-1911. I also recommend Art and Nature Appreciation by George H. Opdyke. Also, John F. Carlson's Landscape Painting

2007-06-13 12:48:50.0
Gilbert: Have you ever copied other artist's work for learning purposes?

2007-06-13 12:51:59.0
Dan Thompson: gilbert, yes, Ingres, Sorolla, and Velazquez. Also Sargent and George deForest Brush.

2007-06-13 12:48:55.0
hellfish: Mr. Thompson, what kind of brushes are the best

2007-06-13 12:52:20.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, I like Silver Brush a lot, and Robert Simmons.

2007-06-13 12:49:13.0
Administrator: You have joined a chat with Dan Thompson, a top artist-instructor who has been highlighted in Workshop magazine. Feel free to ask him some questions and to join in the discussion. Sponsored by the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art.

2007-06-13 12:50:51.0
realistpainter: how do you handle varnish? and how do you get a consistent varnish and avoid sinking?

2007-06-13 12:52:55.0
Dan Thompson: realist, I mostly use retouch varnish or I oil out. I haven't been doing lots of varnishing lately.

2007-06-13 12:50:59.0
Pentimento: Dan: Are you a "full time" artist? If so, how did you support yourself in New York (of all expensive places) while you were developing?

2007-06-13 12:53:58.0
Dan Thompson: Pentimento, it's a real challenge. I'm a full-time artist and teacher. Teaching helps pay the bills and allows me the freedom to paint what I want to paint.

2007-06-13 12:55:12.0
Gilbert: Thanks for your help! I really appreciate hearing true stuff from a successful artist! It's such a struggle, this art thing, and such a thrill when things work out, it's great to listen to a "master!"

2007-06-13 12:55:39.0
Pentimento: Dan: Are there any contemporary artists right now that you admire or that catch your eye?

2007-06-13 12:57:54.0
Dan Thompson: Pentimento, I'm much more interested in deceased artists because a lot of things in the past catch my eye. In the year 2000, there was a show at the Guggenheim called “1900, Art in the Crossroads.” I am interested in the richness of information that was flying all over the world in that show. Malevich, Sorolla, Picasso, American Impressionists, Sargent, Thayer, great sculptors...

2007-06-13 12:59:25.0
Dan Thompson: it was helpful for me to go back and look at my teacher's father's work at the Corcoran, and I had no idea how potent that place had been in the 1920s until I went back and looked at it. It was much like the structure of many schools of that area--but in those days, they were run by artists. In Corcoran, it was Meryman.

2007-06-13 12:59:37.0
Dan Thompson: The academies today are often not run by artists. Why is it OK that 1% of the graduates of art schools become artists? If that were true with medical school, we would have a doctors crisis on our hands.

2007-06-13 13:00:05.0
Dan Thompson: We're not out to satisfy a board of regents. We are out to help create artists.

2007-06-13 13:00:23.0
Administrator: Just so you all know, you can always share tips on our message board, Artists' Forum.

2007-06-13 13:01:06.0
Administrator: Ok, everyone that's all for now

2007-06-13 13:01:19.0
Administrator: Be sure to check our website in the coming weeks for a video of demonstration by Dan.

2007-06-13 13:01:36.0
hellfish: mr thompson, how much can you bench?

2007-06-13 13:02:10.0
NE: hellfish, i get the impression that you are challenging this award-winning artist to some sort of match. i don't think that's appropriate

2007-06-13 13:04:25.0
Dan Thompson: hellfish, I take it back about you not being a real Slayer fan. ‘How much I can bench?’ You're the real deal!

2007-06-13 13:01:48.0
Administrator: And here is a list of his workshops, which is also posted on our website.

2007-06-13 13:02:01.0
Administrator:

THIS WEEKEND: oil painting demonstration for the Academy of Realist Art, Toronto, Canada
Friday, June 15, 6-9 pm
contact: info@AcademyofRealistArt.com

The Arts and Letters Club of Toronto, Toronto, Canada, June 18-19
contact Veronica at info@portraitsocietyofcanada.com

The Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art, Los Angeles, CA, July 19-23

Bay Area Classical Artist Atelier, San Francisco, CA, July 30-August 10

The Art League School, Alexandria, VA, September 12-16

Please contact the above institutions to register, or Dan Thompson for a materials list at:
dan@danthompsonart.com
www.danthompsonart.com

2007-06-13 13:03:43.0
Administrator: We are done for today, but you can email Dan at dan@danthompsonart.com

2007-06-13 13:04:29.0
Dan Thompson: thanks everyone.

Oil Painting: Sean Cheetham: Using a "Mud Palette" to Achieve Harmony

American Artist — Fri, 17 Nov 2006 17:42:00 GMT

To achieve accuracy and harmony in his alla prima figure paintings, Californian Sean Cheetham stresses drawing and a system of mixing colors based from “mud” mixtures, as he calls them, that govern shadows, midtones, and highlights. He recently offered lengthy demonstrations of those techniques during a five-day workshop.

by M. Stephen Doherty

Even though he is not yet 30 years old, Sean Cheetham has already established a strong reputation with art collectors and students in Southern California. He has presented sold-out exhibitions of his figure paintings, received important commissions, and packed classes with students eager to watch him paint the human form with accuracy, style, and drama. Last summer he conducted a five-day workshop at the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art and added an evening demonstration for those not fortunate enough to find room in the class.

Sara
2005, oil, 24
x 20. Collection
the artist.

In addition to having an exceptional ability to understand, draw, and paint the human form, Cheetham relies on a palette of colors and a painting technique he learned from Mike Hussar, his professor and friend at Art Center College of Design, in Pasadena, California. One of the most important aspects of this technique and palette system is to first mix the darkest-dark color (olive green, alizarin crimson, and Indian yellow) and use that to establish the tone of the canvas, the drawing of the subject, and the darkest-dark shapes. The large amounts of a specific shadow “mud” color are mixed based on the model’s local shadow color and adjusted according to the darker and lighter shadows, and on the warmer or cooler shadows. Once the darkest darks, background, and shadow side are complete, the artist prepares a light-side “mud” and mixes from that to achieve halftones and highlights.

This system has several distinct advantages, especially for inexperienced painters. First, it simplifies the drawing process by relieving any concerns about color and unity. Second, it helps establish a dark, transparent shadow tone that helps the illusion of luminosity. Third, it results in a harmonious picture, especially in the areas of transition between relative values and color temperatures. And, finally, it eliminates the need to make radical adjustments in value and color relationships toward the end of the painting process.

After toning a
24"-x-20"
canvas with a
light wash of
olive green,
alizarin
crimson, and
Indian yellow,
Cheetham
drew his
model using
the darkest-
dark color.

As Cheetham pointed out to the students attending his recent workshop, the “mud-palette” system depends on starting with an accurate drawing, using a specific selection of tube colors, and developing the images from dark to light values. “The biggest weakness in figure paintings is usually the drawing,” Cheetham says in reviewing his teaching experience. “Students are often so eager to paint that they fail to correct the problems in the drawing that end up plaguing them throughout the painting process. It’s important to constantly refine and correct the drawing as they are working, but if they don’t start out with an accurate framework for the figure those adjustments won’t correct basic flaws.”

During all the demonstrations Cheetham offered during the workshop and the evening program, he drew his model on a toned canvas with a thin mixture of the darkest-dark color. “To start, I toned the canvas by painting the surface with a thin earth color (a combination of olive green, alizarin crimson, and Indian yellow) based on the value of the light side of the model.”

Cheetham dipped a filbert-shaped bristle brush into a jar of Turpenoid and rubbed it into the mud color on his palette. He then used the thin paint to suggest the scale of the model’s head by marking the approximate top, bottom, and side of the form as well as the extension of the shoulders. Heads are usually slightly smaller than life size, but Cheetham tends to enlarge them while painting a demonstration. When the artist was satisfied with the overall scale of the model’s form, he used the thin paint to draw the face, starting with the eyes, then the nose, and out from there. “I prefer to work from the inside out, starting with the eyes, rather than work from the exterior shape of the head into the middle,” he explained.

Alexis
2003, oil, 24 x
20. Collection
the artist.

After establishing the darkest darks and the background, Cheetham moved on to the shadow-side flesh tones. “The exact combination varies depending on the lighting conditions, but it usually has a base of burnt sienna with some of the background gray mixture to neutralize it,” he explained. “I won’t actually paint with this mud mixture, but I will mix from it for every color combination I prepare along the way. For example, I might add more of the darkest dark mixture to make the darker values; or I might warm the mixture by adding scarlet lake or cadmium red deep.”

“My drawings are linear rather than tonal,” Cheetham mentioned as a way of pointing out that he draws the lines describing the edges of the facial features rather than blocking in the masses of the eye sockets or the cast shadows under the nose, mouth, and chin. “I don’t concern myself with too many details in the beginning, preferring to concentrate on immediately capturing a likeness and making sure the drawing is accurate. I paint a few dark accents with the darkest-dark mixture using more alizarin crimson in the eyelids, nose, lips, and ears; then I block in the background with a neutral gray mixture of cobalt blue and burnt sienna.”

Before getting involved in painting a flesh tone, Cheetham evaluated whether the light on the model was predominantly warm or cool, and whether there might be other types of light influencing the appearance of the model. “Quite often the model posing in a school studio is flooded with warm light from a spotlight, and a few cool overhead fluorescent lights mix with those warm tones,” the artist explained. “Most of the initial painting in the drawing stage is monochromatic with variations between the olive green and the alizarin crimson, depending on the amount of deep warmth in the model’s features. Gradually I adjust the temperature of the shadow mud by warming it with the addition of scarlet lake and cadmium green pale, or cooling it with a mixture of manganese blue hue and white to account for the fluorescent lights.

“I don’t really like an orange-red flesh color, so I put a blue gel over the spotlights during the workshop so the model’s flesh would be slightly cooler in color temperature,” Cheetham went on to explain. “My process is more about gauging values first and about color temperature. If the drawing is right and the values are correct, the painting will read properly with any color.”

As Cheetham worked for these long periods of time on the shadow, he squinted his eyes to identify one color and one value mixture for each specific shadow and reflected light. He then took time to mix a large amount of the light mud (titanium white, burnt sienna, yellow ochre pale, scarlet lake, and manganese blue). “Remember that I never paint the mud color directly,” he reminded students. “I mix from that pile and that’s what keeps it unified.”

Front Door
2006, oil, 12 x
18. Private
collection.

After painting for three hours, Cheetham called for a lunch break. An hour later, he was back at his demonstration, building up the values from dark to light. “I always mix on the palette, not on the canvas,” he said as he resumed painting. “You’ll see some oil painters throw on a color and work it into the paint already on the canvas. I prefer to keep the colors clean and the shadows thin by judging values on the palette and then applying the mixture to the canvas.

“I’m now going to develop the halftones by adjusting the light mud color,” Cheetham continued. “I use a mixture of cobalt blue and burnt sienna, which is similar to the background, to mix into my light-side mixture to achieve the darkest lights. I can warm the mixture by adding scarlet lake or burnt sienna, neutralize the orange tone by adding more cobalt, lighten it by adding more titanium white, or cool it with one of the blues, violets, or greens.”

Turtle Hill
2006, oil,
45 x 30.
Private collection.

Throughout the painting process Cheetham stopped for a few minutes to check the drawing of the model’s face and clothing. “You have to step back from a painting to make determinations about the accuracy of what you are doing,” he explained to the students. “Don’t make those judgments when your nose is pressed up against the canvas because you need to be concerned about the overall effect, not the small details.”

Cheetham spent a total of five hours on the demonstration he offered on the first day of the workshop and seven hours on another, then he devoted three hours to the portrait of Rajiv that was painted during the evening session. Despite the relatively long demonstrations, the artist indicated his alla prima paintings are much rougher than his studio work. “I build up my studio paintings on panels covered with acrylic gesso and modeling paste rather than on canvas, and I work more slowly but use the same process when mixing colors,” he explained. “Because of that tedious process I rely on photographs more than live models. Lately I’ve actually been bringing the digital photographs up on a computer screen and working directly from those rather than photographic prints because the light behind the image makes it more lifelike. I’ve been painting figures in environments that put an emotional distance between the viewer and the subject of the pictures. I don’t hire models because I prefer to paint friends, especially my girlfriend—people who surround and inspire me on a daily basis.”

On the days when Cheetham wasn’t offering a demonstration, the workshop participants painted from live models as he walked around the studio offering helpful advice. Like many instructors, Cheetham found he was better able to point out weaknesses in pictures by actually painting directly on the students’ paintings. “I always tell students to stop me if they don’t want me working on their paintings, but no one ever does,” he says. “They understand that sometimes it’s better to show them how to make an improvement than to describe a suggested change with words. It usually only takes one or two marks to save a painting because most of the workshop participants are experienced enough to be fairly close to getting it right. One of the benefits of a five-day workshop is that there is continuity from one day to the next, from one lesson to the next. That’s often lost when a class only meets one day a week over a three- to four-month semester.”

Cheetham is so busy supplying his gallery with paintings that he doesn’t have time to teach on a regular basis, but he does offer occasional workshops. In addition to the program he offered at the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art, he recently conducted a workshop for art-school friends who established the Academy of the South Side, in Pittsburgh.

About the Artist
Sean Cheetham was born in San Francisco, studied at the College of San Mateo, in California, and earned a B.F.A. degree with honors from Art Center College of Design, in Pasadena, California. His paintings have been included in exhibitions internationally, and he is currently represented by Mendenhall Sobieski Gallery, in Los Angeles. Visit his website for more information.

M. Stephen Doherty is the editor-in-chief of Workshop.

Oil Painting: Timothy R. Thies' Color Charts

American Artist — Tue, 14 Nov 2006 11:00:00 GMT

In the fall 2006 issue of Workshop magazine, Timothy R. Thies taught students how to capture the temperatures of light and shadow in their landscape paintings. Here, we offer an excerpt from the article regarding color charts.

by Edith Zimmerman

A few weeks before the workshop, Thies sent each of his students a packet of information about how to make color charts before arriving for the three-day event. He encouraged the artists to complete the color charts to better understand not only the colors they were using but also how they interact with one another. “How many times have you looked at an object in nature and thought, What color is that and how do I mix it?” Thies asked in his letter to students. “By mixing two colors plus white from your palette, you will begin to learn and then memorize color mixtures that are quite beautiful. What could be more satisfying and fun?”

Each color chart focuses on a dominant color—sap green, for example—and how it interacts with each of the other colors on a palette. Thies’ charts—which he recommends painting on canvas panels, one square inch for each color block, sectioned off with 1/8" white graphic arts tape—are always five horizontal rows deep, with the top row always the darkest value and the bottom row always the lightest. The number of vertical columns depends on the number of colors experimented with—ideally, enough to accommodate the number of colors on the palette. The horizontal color rows are composed of mixtures of each color on the palette combined in varying percentages with the dominant color. The first column of paint in every chart is the dominant hue mixed with only white. Begin by painting Box 5—the top box—right out of the tube so it is the solid dominant color. Next, mix the dominant color with a lot of white, so the mixture is only slightly darker than white. That mixture goes in Box 1 at the bottom of the chart. Now Box 5 and Box 1 are complete. Box 3 is an even mixture of white and the dominant color—say, sap green. Boxes 2 and 4 are in between the values of 1 and 3 and 3 and 5, respectively. Squinting at the column should reveal an even gradation of colors from top to bottom. Now mix colors for column two. The rest of the columns are combinations of the dominant color with other colors, for instance sap green with ultramarine deep, sap green with cobalt blue light, sap green with viridian, and so on. “There is no perfect way to paint color charts,” Thies reminded the students, “but just be patient with yourself. It’s a lengthy process, but the results are beautiful and very satisfying.”

To read the feature article on this artist, check out the fall 2006 issue of Workshop magazine.

Oil Painting: GALLERY: Sean Cheetham's Figure Paintings

American Artist — Sun, 05 Nov 2006 11:00:00 GMT

In the fall 2006 issue of Workshop magazine, we examined how Sean Cheetham demonstrated that drawing and a system of mixing colors based from "mud" mixtures governed shadows, midtones, and highlights. Here, we present 10 of his figure paintings showing just that. Enjoy!


Sara 2005, oil on canvasboard, 24 x 20. All artwork this gallery collection the artist.	Clark 2003, oil on canvasboard, 24 x 18.	Princess 2005, oil on canvasboard, 24 x 20.


Portrait of Chantal Menard 2004, oil on panel, 10 x 8.	Michael 2005, oil on canvasboard, 24 x 20.	Jason Kundell 2006, oil on panel, 10 x 8.


Amos 2004, oil on panel, 10 x 8.	Johnpaul 2004, oil on panel, 10 x 8.	Mark 2005, oil on panel, 10 x 8.


Gretchen 2005, oil, 24 x 20.

Read the feature article on this artist.

To read more features like this, check out the fall 2006 issue of Workshop magazine.

Oil Painting: Thomas Van Stein: A Nocturne Painter’s Palette

American Artist — Sat, 14 Oct 2006 10:00:00 GMT

In the fall 2006 issue of Workshop magazine, California nocturne painter Thomas Van Stein taught seven students his process for capturing the light of night on canvas. Of the many challenges students faced, the most difficult ones seemed to involve value and color: specifically, learning to see values correctly in the dark and properly mixing colors to achieve the subtle nuances of night. Here, we reproduce the handout Van Stein gave participants on his nocturne-painting palette as well as restate some of the main tenets of his instruction on value and color.

by Allison Malafronte

Van Stein’s Palette

The following oil colors (clockwise from left on chart):
quinacridone red
alizarin crimson or quinacridone violet
platinum violet
ultramarine blue
cobalt blue
cerulean blue
viridian green
permanent green light
Thalo green
Thalo blue
ivory black
burnt umber
raw umber
burnt sienna
raw sienna or yellow ochre
titanium white
cadmium yellow light
cadmium yellow medium
Hansa yellow or cadmium yellow orange
cadmium orange
cadmium red light
cadmium red dark

“When painting at night, you’re working with values that are very close together, so it’s important that you see them correctly from the beginning and simplify your palette before you start.”

“I like to prop a white canvas out in front of my easel as I’m mixing colors to provide a reflective surface to which I can compare my values.”

“Make sure your easel is positioned in consistent lighting; if your canvas is in light, make sure your palette is also receiving light, and if your canvas is in shadow, your palette should be in shadow as well.”

“When painting at night, use as few artificial lights as possible. I use one Mag-Lite flashlight attached to my hat and two Mighty Bright book lights clipped to my easel. I also neutralize the book lights with a blue gel, which forces me to warm up my palette.”

“Because there’s more atmosphere below the moon as it’s rising than there is above it, the light it casts will be brighter, bluer, and cooler as it ascends.”

“For nocturnes, I use an underpainting mixture of burnt umber and alizarin crimson that provides a warm complement to the grays, blues, and violets I will be using. You get greater vibration in a nocturne when you juxtapose warm and cool colors as opposed to complementary colors.”

“Because paint viewed at night appears lighter and more intense than paint viewed during the day, always mix your palette slightly lighter than what you’re seeing.”

“Use very little white when doing a nocturne. If you use white, it should only be to mix a neutral color or slightly heighten a value.”

“If you’re having trouble getting a color down, use your peripheral vision to look at the value and temperature of the mass next to it because that’s what gives it its characteristics.”

“Remember, the farther away from the moon you get in the sky, the darker the value.”

“There is a warm ‘seat’ around the moon, a halo of ambient light. By exaggerating the dark values surrounding that using a chiaroscuro effect, you can create the illusion that it’s glowing.”


Palms, Foggy Night by Thomas Van Stein, 2005, oil, 24 x 32. Collection Sue Grafton.	Even Tide, Full Moon by Thomas Van Stein, 2006, oil, 16 x 12. Private collection.	Waning Moon, Spring by Thomas Van Stein, 2005, oil, 24 x 22. Private collection.	Whistler Moonrise by Thomas Van Stein, 2006, oil, 16 x 12. Collection the artist.

Allison Malafronte is the associate editor of Workshop.

Read the feature article on this artist.

To read more features like this, check out the fall 2006 issue of Workshop magazine.