Experimental mode

Toby and Leslie

Work in progress 20x16"

by Susan Roux

In the words of Celeste Bergin, "Can't wait to see what comes from your new tools."

The answer is: Experimenting! Lots and lots of experimenting.

Family has been kind enough to be my guinea pigs. Many have posed for the camera, knowing they could be my next subject to paint or massacre. Really, its a toss up at this point. If I succeed, they get a portrait. If I don't, nobody gets hurt. Nearly everyone's been willing to participate. Thanks for that.

The double portrait. Little did I know, this held a whole new bunch of challenges. I'm so new at this I thought it would be like doing two portraits on one canvas. No. Not exactly...

Proportions.

Those nasty proportions. They need to coincide for both portraits. You can't just enlarge one head, thinking, oh his chin is a bit lower. Lower his chin and suddenly she needs adjusting too! Yikes.

I had to put more detail than I wanted to on the initial block-in, just to make sure their proportions matched. I find it very hard to tell if my heads are close to correct without adding some resemblance of features. Though my lesson was not to focus on features, rather on planes of the head.

Yesterday I worked on Toby. I captured a likeness, so for that I'm happy. One of my major challenges is with photos of strong light. The face is washed out making various planes void of any color or value change. The other big challenge is again related to the camera. I have great trouble posting what's really on my canvas. If you squint at this image, it'll look closer to what I actually have. The transitions are better than shown. (If you close your eyes completely, it'll look even better!)

Aside from the camera problems, I hope to bring in more exciting color as I continue to paint faces. Yes, it looks like Toby. He's dark where he should be dark and light where he should be. But as for looking exciting and vibrant, a major failure!

I want the focal point to be the point where the faces connect. I think I'll need to lighten the background to the left of Toby's face. Right now, the eye bounces back and forth between the contrast at his ear and the contrast at his eye.

Suffice it to say, this piece is still evolving. I will work on it for awhile and then move to another. That's the beauty of being in experimental mode. No need to work it to death. Do what you can and then move on, trying to improve yourself as you go.

There was another time in my art life that I didn't paint for anyone but myself. Not for galleries, not to make sales, just for me. It made a huge jump in improving my work. That was about a decade ago. It feels good to find myself in this frame of mind again. Though it's very hard work, I feel it will harvest great results.

Don't be afraid to allow yourself some growing time. It can be difficult turning off the commitments or reasons to paint from your brain. But if you can, letting go of everything and experimenting will reward you in many ways.

New paints and palette

It was time for an upgrade.

Sometimes its wise to realize you've gone as far as you can with the tools you're using. I was there. My paints were student grade, washed down and inferior. I'd grown so accustomed to them, it never dawned on me to change them. But when a wise old man (maybe not so old) visited, necessary changes became instantly obvious.

A bucket full of new paints!

If that doesn't make me want to jump up and paint, nothing will. Big juicy tubes, full of creamy paint, hollering to be squeezed. Its like being a kid again with a new box of crayola crayons!

Better yet is my new place to squeeze them on. Oh, I'm playing with the big boys now... A glass palette. I have to tell you, I'd seem them used before, but never realized the difference it makes mixing your colors.

Its a whole new stimulant!

I'm showing it to you all clean. Really, I should have photographed it in living color. Patches and patches of mixed swirls of paint gradually change with every value and tone at your fingertips. My palette knife rest, if you can believe that. I was so hooked to it before for mixing colors, I'm shocked how easily I've been able to let it go.

So when I tell you I've made some positive changes in an attempt to improve my art, I wasn't kidding. Everything all at once. I've repeated how my head hurts from all the thinking required during these days of experimenting. My brain is in overload. Not just from adjusting to a new way of looking at things, but from working with all new toys.

Would I do it again?

In a heartbeat. I suggest an upgrade to any of you who are serious about your art and wanting to improve your results. I looked at it as an investment in my future. It wasn't cheap, but I'm hoping it will all be worthwhile in time.

I'm currently working on portraits. I hope to secure the lessons of my past workshop by experimenting with similar subjects. Mike's taken photos of family members in strong light so I now have plenty of material to work with. No excuses... I don't know how many I'll decide to paint. I suppose as many as it takes to drill the lessons into my head. Maybe when my brain stops hurting and they get easier to paint, I'll know its time to move on.

At the moment I'm working on a double portrait. It has problems. Hopefully I'll feel comfortable posting it after I resolve some of them...

So when the day is done, my palette gets cleaned. The days used paint is scraped into piles of grays to use tomorrow. And then, one two three, it closes up tight keeping my paints from drying too quickly, into...

A handy dandy, ready to travel, suitcase!

All these changes are helping me from falling back on old habits. There's nothing to fall back on. Everything's been flipped upside down...

Nothing like a whirlwind to propel you into a new direction. Hopefully its forward...

Loading Traps

Loading Traps

Original oil painting 16x20"

by Susan Roux

As you know, I've been approaching my art differently since taking Don Hatfield's workshop. I'm overwhelmed at all your lovely comments. So many of you saw my initial block-in as a finished painting. I regret to tell you I put in another 10 hours since then.

Please let me know what you think of the finished piece. Should I have stopped at the initial stage? Your honesty is greatly appreciated. When one is working so hard to develop in a positive way, honest feedback is necessary. Don't worry about hurting my feelings. I'm a tough girl and can take criticism.

Ten hours. I bet you're wondering what I did in ten hours. It blows my mind too.

The first day I painted about three hours. Mike came home, went to look at it and couldn't tell what I worked on. I thought to myself, "Phew, I haven't ruined it yet!"

My brain has been completely involved in this process. I have so much useful information buzzing around in there and I'm trying so hard to implement it into my work. By the end of painting sessions, my head hurts. My only hope for relaxation through this learning process is Luka Bloom piped in my ears, via my nano. Ohhh... how he can serenade me into a peaceful creative place.

So what did I do for ten hours? The block in was to focus on lights and darks. There was no sketch, only a blank canvas and raw paint. Getting the proportions accurate was also of prime importance. The next step was to paint various planes, focusing deeply on the reflected light in the shadows.

You can see all the color in his white shirt and the different planes and colors in his hat. All the while, trying to avoid painting too much detail! I probably failed miserably on that. Paying attention to the planes and avoiding detail seem to be one in the same.

Self criticism: I tried to keep my strokes loose, yet it looks strangely like a photograph. My figure is stronger than any I've ever painted. I had fun playing in the reflected light. I never paid much attention to that before. Of course lots of grays were used and that too was new for me. I'm more of a direct-color person, but I'm seeing the benefits of using grays.

I plan to continue trying to figure this out. In time, my brain will be less active in the process, helping me see myself more in the finished painting. I do find it interesting that with focusing only on light and dark and planes and reflected light can create such a real looking painting. I have loose messy strokes throughout, yet it looks tightly rendered. Of course its worse in this small version. In life, the painting is larger and looks a bit more painterly...

What do you think? Please be completely honest...

Lights and darks

Loading Traps

Work in progress 16x20"

by Susan Roux

I've been painting all day long lately. Since the workshop, inspiration is peeked. Thank you for all your encouraging comments as I dive into a new approach. Its as though my motor is on and I'm afraid to shut it off for fear of loosing precious information.

Paint, paint, paint. Like a mad woman with a brush!

This is the initial block-in for my latest piece. Actually it isn't really the initial one. I took a photo of what I thought was my block-in, only to find the man's head was very puny. Odd how I couldn't see it looking at the canvas, yet it jumped out so clearly in a photograph. A bit discouraged, I returned to the studio to enlarge his head... Its better now.

Don Hatfield's approach is to focus on the large shapes of light and dark without attention to detail.

I'm trying really hard to do this, but I'm certain I have way more detail showing in this initial block-in than he would allow. He has a reputation of "slaying our darlings". This means knocking out the detail to reinforce and adjust the correct values in large shapes.

I chose this image to paint because it related closer to our portrait lesson than wildflowers in a field. Though I'm assured the same principles apply, it seems easier to follow his instructions with a figure in the scene. Now that my figure is adjusted, I can begin to focus on all the different planes and how light affects them. Be it reflected light or direct sunlight.

I think I'm off to a good start. My biggest fear is the yellow grid of the lobster trap. I'm hoping to keep it soft and simple, but the mathematical side of me will be pushing for every line in the grid! I'll try not to listen... Perhaps I can put them all in and then make some disappear.

We'll see how that goes. After all, its only paint.

Enjoy your day. Don't be afraid to experiment a little... or a lot.

Thrown

From the Clover

Original oil Painting 20x16"

by Susan Roux

Ok. I admit it. Taking a workshop can totally throw you, no matter how wonderful a workshop it was. Admitting you have things to learn and be willing to change your approach takes great commitment. Don Hatfield opened my eyes to things I've never noticed before. It is impossible to return to where I was prior to this enlightenment. One must move forward.

From the Clover was started before I took the workshop.

Some of the things I learned, or perhaps was reminded of, was focusing on lights and darks. Though I think it has always been my focus, there were elements that I missed. Elements like the necessity of grays. I pondered this for some time before daring to approach this painting.

How do I go about it now? That was the real question.

This composition was not the best to apply my new found knowledge. A sharper contrast between lights and darks would have been better. Nonetheless, I attempted to put it into action. I added grays. I focused on the light. I tried to keep my colors accurate.

When you attempt something new, there's so much to focus on. We all know that thinking while painting hampers the natural emotional flow we strive to achieve. I know in time I'll be able to do these things without thinking and what is within me will pour out easily again. For now, my work is cut out. I can see a direction to follow. It makes sense and its stimulating. This will be a time of experimenting and learning.

I'm really hoping to see significant improvement in my work from this experience. That may be too much to expect, but I expect it anyway...

Time will tell.

(note: I couldn't adjust the colors accurately on this photo. It gave me lots of trouble. I've photographed it 10 times in different light to get it right. Still, it isn't... There's a lot to be said for viewing the original art.)

Thanks Don

My husband, Mike

Day-3 of the workshop 20x16"

by Susan Roux

My house feels empty.

Yesterday I drove Don Hatfield and his lovely wife Janey to Wiscasset, Maine where their holiday is continuing. They have been living with us for the past week or so and today, morning coffee is quiet and lonely. Don thought I would be happy to finally get my house back, but as I suspected, its just the opposite...

I met Don blogging. Somehow our interaction turned to an invitation and evolved into him coming to teach a workshop in Maine. What a gift! Stephanie Berry wrote in detail about the workshop. Click her if you're interested in reading all about it. As for myself, I can tell you this will mark a turning point in my art and possibly my career.

Aside from being hysterical, Don is a wealth of knowledge eager to share his talents. He's given me a new perspective and after all these years of painting, a new way of looking at things. How unusual to have your eyes opened anew. My mind is whizzing with so much information. I'm trying to process it and soon put it to the test, painting.

Since very early in my blogging, I've urged you to reach out and meet new people. Here I am today echoing that same message. You never know where it will lead you. Its always an adventure and sometimes a precious gift.

Don you've been a precious gift. Thank you.

Our secret

From the Clover

Work in progress 20x16"

by Susan Roux

The rocks were talking.

I've never experienced anything like it. We were on Deer Isle, painting plein air from early morning 'til mid-afternoon. The weather was hot and sunny so we packed our gear and drove to find a beach locals told us about. It was a tiny beach. A very tiny beach...

Off to the side I noticed a trail. It rose up a wooded hill. A dense pine forest, perhaps all growing on large rocks. Something felt very ancient here. The trail forked. It was a short walk. Each ended at a different location around a point. Three completely different beaches, facing three different compass points, all separated by this wooded hill.

One particular beach seemed to pull us in. Chris, Karen and I descended onto in.

A different energy existed there. It was powerful and it tingled inside us. In awe, we moved slowly, not speaking. Large rounded boulder type rocks surrounded us. The tide was low, exposing a tiny sandy beach. I was pulled to a large rock, where I immediately crouched to listen.

The rocks were talking.

It really did feel ancient here. It was humbling. Like these rocks had been here so much longer than any of us, they had even evolved to speak... Chris and I were overwhelmed by the energy we began to talk about our shared Abenaki Indian ancestry. Something here made us feel very connected.

Then Karen surprised us by saying she had Abenaki in her too. Her grandfather was a medicine man!

We are living proof that not all the French and Indians were at war...

No wonder we've become instant friends. We were already connected. Just as this place made us feel connected. Ancient knowledge seemed to be here. We all listened to the rocks. It was the vast areas of exposed barnacles crackling and popping. It put Rice Crispies to shame! The range of sounds it made was incredible.

A bit further, the rocks rose up on either side of us.

From there, you needn't crouch to hear the chatter. It echoed around you. How cool and spiritual a place this was! The secret beach found only at low tide.

It had so much to say...

We returned to our rental house to tell everyone of our magnificent find. They laughed at us. Talking rocks? Seriously now...

The looks on our faces must have sparked some interest, because the next day Mike wanted me to take him there. We needed to wait until low tide. It was misting, so I knew it wouldn't be the same. In the heat, the barnacles had closed tight. The sound was coming from within their closed shells. As though these tiny crustaceans were complaining about the intense heat bestowed upon them.

Much like I've been doing these past few days in the Eastern heat wave...

The sound was softer. Much softer. But upon seeing this place, Mike suddenly understood. He even apologized for laughing the night before. Armed with his trusty camera, he took the photos posted. I wondered how many people came to this beach and never herd it talking. If they were themselves chatting, they would have drowned the sound. If felt like our amazing secret. The place where the rocks talk...

I still have chills thinking about it.