Heart vs Fundamentals

Lupines at Dusk

Original oil painting 10x20"

by Susan Roux

Creating art can be a nagging series of conflicts. There exists a fine line between painting from the heart and adhering to the fundamentals. How much of one is too much? Painting from the heart is freeing and spontaneous. Letting go. The brush dips in color and impulse and the canvas dictate what color is next. You feel your creativity bubbling out of you and great joy is experienced in the process. If that's all you do, where do you end up?

Is there such a thing as having too much fun painting?

The fundamentals, those pesky rules, pull it all together. The values define shapes. Design and composition lead the eye. Sun and shadow patterns contribute to the illusion of reality. A wise man told me an artist is allowed only a small portion of fun to be visible per painting. Oh shucks, really?

Here is me painting from the heart. I was captivated by the lupines on Monhegan. I loved the way they danced in the sky. I photographed a lot of them, but the feeling of observing them could not be replicated in an image. I wanted to portray them at dusk. Those wonderful lupine shades were transformed during golden hour. How rich and warm the cool blue's, pink's and purple's became. I concentrated on capturing that. My photo references were poor suggestions, so imagination took over.

Once I finally captured the light I was after, I felt the painting was complete. Funny how if you toss in one crazy element you're unstable with, everything you're grounded on slips from memory. A well advised critique put it all back into perspective for me. Too much heart and not enough fundamentals. Form became sacrificed au lieu de couleur.

I returned to the painting, freed from focusing only on color and began to establish form. Somewhere between heart and fundamentals one can strike a balance that satisfies. Satisfies the viewer, satisfies the artist. After all, if the passage is not defined well enough, the viewer misses the message...

When to stop?

Sanctuary

Original oil Painting

by Susan Roux

When do you stop painting?

I'm certain I'm not alone on this subject. How many times have you brought a painting to completion only to feel it was better awhile ago. I'm guilty of it in the studio and notorious for it on location.

Have you ever stopped because someone told you to stop? At that point when you still had a vision to continue, it can be very difficult to put your brush down. What do you do to all those spots you planned on developing further?

I'm here today. Stopping and pondering.

This is the painting I worked on in the Chicken Coop. I took a different approach from the start. Paint the poetry! That's what was in my head (and on the little Monet post-it note in my studio) The scene is from my photo shoot following Stapleton Kearns workshop. That glorious morning when I saw the sun dancing in and out. Armed with my camera, I parked and walked many times while leaving the island.

I'm not always a fan of photos. (sorry my dear husband...) I couldn't wait to paint this lovely scene, but once I looked at my pictures, they hadn't captured anything I remembered. I didn't care. I set out to paint the feeling I had when admiring this waterfront property. How dreamy this floral place was! I could just sit there for hours breathing in the wonderful scents. The various flowers, the salty air...

This precious place slipped my soul away into a relaxing dream.

It was all about the feeling. I used the photo as a reference to put down a basic layout of my composition. Move things, change things. Nothing mattered. I wasn't trying to duplicate the image before me. I have to tell you I had more fun painting this than I have in a long time. It was pure emotion. I thought of my friend Jennifer Wadsworth who always lets the canvas speak to her and direct her. Is this what she's been talking about all this time? I was manipulating the paint to whatever felt right. Choosing colors that projected the feeling I desired. I found myself holding brushes in ways I never have before. It became a tactile experience. I was romancing the canvas.

I think Nora enjoyed watching me as pure emotion led me in its development. By day's end, she told me I was near done. She warmed me about overworking it. That evening, artist friend, Svetlana Beattie visited. She loved the painting. Sign it, she said. Her description of it was moving. With her whole body and up on tiptoes, she demonstrated her feelings towards the tree. Its like a girl, looking out at the sea and leaning towards it. Her arms gracefully out and pointing down, breathing it all in. She's like a ballerina...

Its so interesting to listen to others describe your work. She went on and on about the rhythmic movement and the colors and concluded that any additions would ruin this feeling. She made me listen to Debussy's Reflections in the Water. She said my painting made her feel like that. Everything she said sounded like poetry to me. Had I actually captured that?

So here I am today. I have spots I still intended to develop further. Do I stop? Do I continue? The longer time elapses, the more I seem to overlook the passages that struck me as unfinished. There's no rush. Maybe I should begin another and then see how I feel about this one, remaining at this stage.

Perhaps I'll stop here and consider it an achievement. I can take my next one a step further to see if I can carry the poetry to the very end without loosing it.

Ooooh, so many stimulating thoughts... Its like being in competition with myself. Its a win win situation, or lose lose, depending on how you look at it.

Purple

Shaker Orchard

Original oil painting 18x24"

by Susan Roux

When in doubt, use purple.

These words of advice echoed out of my mouth to my students last night. They were received as a wonderful proclamation of wisdom. In all fairness, with the color palette we use, it does hold true.

I love how different artists have their own favorite color. They've learned to incorporate it into every painting. Their ability to manipulate it and make it "sing" reaches beyond others. They've studied it and tried it in every situation. It becomes more like a in-depth study on that particular color. For me its purple.

Dioxazine purple.

I don't have a painting that doesn't include it. Naturally I teach it to all my students. The first time I have them block in a tree with a purple underpainting, I get a lot of strange comments. Purple trees? By the end of the painting, they become lovers of purple as well. They can see its value and appreciate its many uses.

I find it universal. I don't paint with browns. Yellow ochre is the closest brown on my palette. Rather, purple becomes the substitute. Mixed with yellows, it neutralizes. As a dark in greens, it holds such depth and excitement. With blues, well its just real pretty...

So when in doubt, use purple. It works nicely with everything. It gives your painting a shot in the arm. There's a deep richness that it brings to your art. No wonder it was the regal color of kings robes. It holds the property of standing above the rest. Its interesting and noticed, yet can be so understated. Don't underestimate the power of purple!

It belongs in the sky. It belongs in water. It belongs in the trees and in every dark portion of a composition. Once you unleash the power of purple on your canvas, you will have to agree. When in doubt, use purple.

Magenta runs a close second. Though not quite as versatile as purple, it energizes and accompanies it very well. Try some in your trees next time...

So here is my completed painting. The sky has been warmed and the weathervane added. Thanks to Roisin O'Farrell's email telling me it looked finished to her, I took it easy to preserve the feeling I'd already captured. In her words, "I wouldn't touch it. It's charmed the pants off me, just as it is!" Thanks Roisin. Sometimes we need to here it from someone else. STOP!

It felt so good to paint...

Happy painting and have some purple on me today!

On the go

Work in progress

by Susan Roux

I just returned from visiting my sister and I leave again on Friday to see my college son, who's turning 21. I am "Susan on the go" these days! I'm here. I'm there. I'm everywhere!

Eventually I'll plant my feet back on the ground, but that may not be until the end of April... Spring is here and I've sprung in all directions!

So please bare with me as I trot around. I'll try to stop in as often as I can...

My paintbrushes miss me. My hands ache to hold them. I haven't painted since my last class, Thursday night. At these moments, thank goodness for painting class. Otherwise I probably wouldn't get to paint at all.

Maybe today I'll indulge in some personal, playful painting time. My spirit could use it... (Plus Mike was such a dear and did all the laundry while I was away! Thanks Babe. You're awesome!) It may have created space for some much needed "Susan-time"...

Do you recognize the painting posted? It changes so much with each painting session. The direction I'm going with it, is also changing. The blue patches of underpainting in the foreground look odd and out of place in this photograph, but they really compliment the painting in real life. I've decided to keep them. Its been a challenge, because trees pass all along the front of the building. I'd planned to paint them in. But now if I want to keep the blue patches, I need to abandon that thought. I spent much time last session trying to decide how I would alter my composition mid-stream. That can be a recipe for disaster!

Tonight we continue.

There's a traditional weathervane that rises above the existing pinnacle of the building. I think its important to the composition. It will help set dominance. Warm light will need to find its way into the sky. Currently we have a warm light/cool light situation happening here. Seeing we only have one sun, the same light that drapes itself on the landscape is also present in the sky. It came as an unpleasant surprise to my students when I announced that we would be returning into our sky's...

Luckily the paintings are all dry. Returning to painted areas need not be scary. Any additional strokes, if unwanted, can be easily removed with the magic eraser, mineral spirits! I have no doubt they'll be able to adjust their sky's to the correct light quite easily.

The thought of painting energizes me.

Happy painting all of you wonderful artists! May you find time in your busy lives to nourish your own spirit. As Spring pops and the temperature warms, let yourself flourish with creativity and color.

I sense amazing works will be popping up everywhere...

Ocean Roses 3

Ocean Roses

By Susan Roux

(painting in progress)

Ocean Roses is close to completion. Class has moved along at a very good pace, especially for beginners. We developed the remainder of the rose foliage. It was interesting to see how everyone's stroke, being so different, yielded quite varied results. Since a large part of the painting is this foliage, everyone's canvas took on it's own personality. Prior to this, their works were very similar.

As for my own progress, I'm wondering if all this simplification is causing me to loose some of the "interest" that existed before. I like the fullness I achieved with the bush. It was the focus while getting the class to sculpt it. We worked with darks, lights and mid-tones to create volume. I tried to preserve some of the exciting underpainting colors, but failed a bit. I don't think all is lost however. I'll have to work in some excitement as we finish it up next week.

I can see additional tweaking will be necessary in my flowers, especially the large focal point one. Its much stiffer than I'd like. By eliminating one blossom on the far ridge, my composition improved. As we advance the canvas, elements need adjusting...

Its been a learning experience for me to photograph each session's evolution. I knew my progression differed within my classes than when on my own, but a visual record gives me a base to evaluate it with. I wasn't expecting this. Its a good surprise. Hopefully it will help me with future class work. If I can tell at which point it falls apart or looses interest, maybe I can really focus on preventing it from happening.

Time will tell...

I'm posting the other images to show the progress and evolution. Your comments are appreciated.

What do you think?

Subject matters?

Come on in. You're just in time!

Tea is brewing and my special artsy cups are laid out. Its my own special recipe doctoring Lipton with fresh cranberries, oranges, cilantro and a bit of brown sugar. When these flavors meld the taste will surprise you. (Its a good surprise...) Mike is just pulling the muffins out of the oven and swirling on the glaze. The smell of sweetened cinnamon fills the room.

Have a seat and lets talk about art.

What will it be? Composition? Color? Process? Or maybe subject matter? Oh, I like that one. Let's talk about subject matter. It's often overlooked as a good art topic to discuss. How's your tea? Would you like a bit more sugar? Lemon maybe?

How do we choose what we paint?

A common answer is usually what we're passionate about, what stimulates us. Typically, something moves as and we want to express our feelings about it. Maybe we have something to say or a story to tell. Perhaps we saw another's work and decided to try something different. There's a lot of reasons that come to mind around the concept of passion, but is it always the reason?

The power of suggestion. That trap can get me tangled. Why is it that we sometimes choose to veer away from our passion to paint what someone else wants? A gallery owner can make the simplest comment and suddenly those thoughts interfere with our own creative spirit. Naturally you'd like to please them, representation is important.

It isn't always your bread and butter (or as in today, your muffin and butter...), it can be anyone saying they prefer art that is like... Is it natural to examine our own mind each and every time? I know artists are hard on themselves. We are the worst. But still, why is it so hard to stick to our own passion?

Crazy things pop into mind like sales. No one will be interested in this... I fall into that one. Do you? I get tantalized by quiet little places in nature. You know, those sunlit grasses growing around the tree trunk. I could just zoom right in! Sometimes I do. But sales are easier when I paint a whole scene as opposed to a spot in the scene. It affects me. It affects what I choose to paint. I'm not proud to admit it, but its true.

I had this discussion with John Morris in Ireland. Subject matter. The importance of subject matter. He said he thought it was the most important for sales, followed by talent and then framing. What might a buyer be interested in looking at for a long period of time? He made some interesting points. One vegetable. It has a very limited place in the world... No matter how well you paint it or how passionate you are about it, it remains one vegetable.

Recently one of my representing gallery owner's said he can't believe he's saying it, but with the current economy, if a recognizable, local landmark or jut of land were placed beyond my children at the beach, it would be sold.

How do we ignore a comment like that?

I'm trying to stick to my guns. Currently nothing recognizable is beyond my children at the beach. They're all zoomed in. But who knows, in time I may get tempted to try a few, for experimental sake. What are your thoughts on this? Do you always paint what your passionate about? I mean, honestly...

Coffee and Curves 16x20" Original oil painting by Susan Roux

Ocean Roses

Ocean Roses

(in progress by Susan Roux)

This is an unfinished painting. I'm working on it with my beginner students. I wanted to give you a glimpse at the wonderful work they do. I hope to keep you posted at different intervals, to the completed painting. If my students allow, I'll post their finished paintings as well.

This is the work of my Tuesday night class. These students have painted only one painting, the beginner class this fall. A few students have ventured out to paint on their own at home, but for the most part, this is their second painting. My more advanced class thought I was brutal to give such a complicated scene to beginners. Honestly, I think they are doing marvelous with it so far.

Five students follow along as I explain colors, placement, composition and the "why" behind everything I have them do. We've worked on this for 3 sessions now, for a total of 6 hours. I've been so impressed with how well they've progressed. Each session, we cover more than I imagined we would.

Classes are fun and exciting. The jokes, laughs and giggles fly around the room continually keeping spirits light and playful. I think part of that "fun" shows up on our canvases. It affects the colors we choose and the relaxed brushstroke we use. The biggest challenge for me is to simplify everything so much that it can be understood and done even by a beginner. With each class I teach, the simplification gets easier.

We scribble paint. We scribble lots of paint! I get accused of being a very good scribbler, but you will be surprised to see their end products...

They scribble well too!

I am under the belief that anyone can do this. All that is needed is the desire. Perhaps they wouldn't all have the ability to become masters, but certainly enough to enjoy the process and be pleased with the end result. I'm very thankful for my students. They are a big part of my life and I look forward to their coming every week. Its been such a rewarding experience for me.

So my students, if you're reading, thank you...

Not today

With glorious light shining down in my studio, I painted. I painted and painted and painted some more! I started a few more children at the beach, continuing my series as posted in Finding clarity. I love starting them. I go crazy dripping color. Its so freeing! (I made sure to use a lot of red...) By afternoon a friend called and wanted to come paint. She had seen a painting online and wanted to try to imitate the style. She needed help getting started.

Fine. Let's do it!

It was totally out of my comfort zone. Not nature, but a still life. And the way the paint had to be laid was about as opposite as it gets. I love working with the transparent properties of the oils. I get so intrigued by the way light passes through them, hits the canvas and bounces back as light.

Not today.

For this project, we needed to begin with a toned canvas. There would be no light shinning from behind. All the lights would be placed on top of other paint. I chose a small canvas. I didn't expect to be happy with the results, but figured we'd have fun. Nothing wrong with a little fun, is there? So I set up a simple still life, resembling the type she had found.

I did some still life paintings years ago. I loved setting them up in my big window. I'd cluster up all sorts of things of different shapes then chase the light all day, finishing the following day to repeat the same light. It was like a treasure hunt finding the right objects to place together. Tall pieces, short wide pieces, scattered pieces, fruit, vegetables, flowers or plants always made the list. Doilies or draped cloths found their way under a portion of the objects, allowing reflections on the rest. Setting up the arrangement was a work of art in itself.

Not today.

The set-up was to be very simple. One or two objects at most. A challenge for a good, interesting composition. A challenge to get excited about what I was going to paint! Yikes. What had I gotten myself into?

Still it was painting, so I decided to relax and go with it. We had so much fun. Like teaching, being out of your comfort zone, forces you to focus on the important elements. Form, composition, color... I found playing on the toned canvas to be quite fun. Paint responded differently and that made it exciting. After awhile it felt more like I was drawing than painting. Perhaps we got too picky, but we were pretty green at this method.

I surprised myself. Here it is, Susan Roux's "Purple Teapot". The result wasn't as bad as I had predicted. I know it isn't a masterpiece, but I'm not embarrassed to post it. After all, it comes with my whole story. It was a lot of fun to experiment. I hope you take time for that once in a while. Its a challenge but stimulating. I'll go back to my regular transparent way of painting. Who knows, some little part of this exercise may remain with me and reappear on a later canvas... Don't you love surprises?