Color Workshop

Whoops!

Original oil painting  20x16"

by Susan Roux

Are you ready to use color freely? Would you like to be confident enough to use color freely? Are you caught in a cycle where you paint mostly with local color? Let's change that.

Sign up for a color workshop now!

October 13, 14 and 15

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday

9:30-4:30

$200

Roux & Cyr International Fine Art Gallery

48 Free Street

Portland, Maine

207-576-7787

Join in the fun as we explore color and arm you with the tools necessary to use color creatively. Color is emotion in a painting and you can learn to manipulate the emotion your paintings emit. Don't be satisfied by just capturing the essence of your subject, learn to be in control of how your painting "feels". 

Take a look in the shadows of her dress. So much excitement and interest can be captured with the creative use of color. Be in control of color harmony in your paintings. 

Play with color. Let it explode on canvas while still capturing your forms. You'll have so much fun letting your brush dip into all those pretty colors on your palette. Aren't you ready for a color party? Aren't your paintings ready for a color party?

Sign up now. Limited space available. Contact me soon before it's all booked up!

"the thing"

Temptation

Original oil painting  14x18"

by Susan Roux

What are you striving to capture in your paintings?

Place a bunch of artists in front of the same scene or set-up and everyone has a different interpretation. Are we not seeing the same colors? Are we not seeing the same light?

There is much more to painting than meets the eye...

Emotion. Our own unique response to whatever subject we choose to paint. Even the same artist on a different day will interpret the same subject differently. Who we are. What we are. Everything we've been through physically and emotionally effects how we place paint to canvas. I've been reminded of this recently.

I've noticed over the years when my actual life feels out of my control, my art tightens. It's as though I'm looking to have control over something when everything else feels chaotic. I have a student who reacts completely in the opposite way. She unleashes wildly and boldly in an emotional abstract outpour that has the illusion of somebody screaming!

What happens to your art when life feels out of your control?

Even when life is going along normally, we focus on capturing different things. Is it a feeling you're trying to capture? Perhaps creating an ambiance? It is technical fundamentals? Is it certain colors you wish to play with?

When we decide on a subject to paint, there is something about that subject that spoke to us to make us choose it over all other subjects at that moment. What is that something? What was it about your subject that spoke to you? Whatever it was: the shadow play, the colors, the movement, the serenity, the lines, the structure... This should be your top priority. This should be "the thing" you're trying to capture. It is where your passion lies.

No one will feel about "the thing" exactly like you do. What captures you about the subject is what you should be striving to capture in your painting.

Ignore all those voices in your head that are telling you so and so said I should do it like this or so and so would do it this way. When you're trying too hard to focus on someone else's method, you're not following your own unique voice. Yes there are those times of learning/studying which require thought about the teacher's words. But any other time, the only thing you should be following is your own gut feeling. Let that brush go on auto pilot. Focus on "the thing" that inspired you to paint your subject. Exaggerate it even, so your viewers won't miss it. Everything else will fall into place.

When it comes to art the thing is, expressing "the thing" is what it's always been all about.

International Fine Art Gallery

Uniting the world through art

How do you like our sign design so far? Our round logo will fit nicely in the empty space beneath the word Gallery. It's all coming together. Just as the sign design develops, so does the entire vision. It's so fascinating to watch the individual parts begin to fall into place. It's very similar to how a painting comes together. Having a general idea and building upon it by responding to everything else you've already done, while keeping the final goal in mind.

I'm a colorist. I teach and promote the use of creative color. Color can be a crazy thing. Each has its own mood and by combining them differently, the artist can infuse different emotions into their work. 

We are also affected by the colors around us. 

I laugh sometimes as my students create paintings that would fit wonderfully in my home. Every color around them, though they don't even realize it, affects the color choices they make. Even those colors way off in their peripheral vision. 

I like to use this concept as an advantage. In the initial block in, I encourage wild freedom of color. Grab whatever color you feel like dipping your brush into. It's just the underpainting and most of it will be covered again anyway. Nothing too scary about that.

Some students are more daring than others. I really discourage beginning with local color (the color we perceive things to be. The leaves are green, the sky is blue...). Those students that begin with the funnest colors create the most energetic and emotionally filled paintings. As the students take breaks and view each others work, the more conservative ones ooh and aah over the wild colored ones. Why? Because the creative use of color infuses emotion.

Those initial colors keep affecting the color choices we make. Just as color around us affects our painting, so do the colors staring bluntly at us from our canvas. This is an important point that I cannot accentuate enough. An emotion you set early on in the process will strive to carry through until the end. As I tell my students, if you begin to paint something with local color, you have no place to go with it. Adding green to something that is already green is not exciting. Adding green to something that is purple, magenta, blue or red creates energy and excitement. That energy translates back to you as the artist. The funner your painting is, the more you wish to continue painting. Like a good book you can't put down.

How many times have you lost steam while working on a painting? Perhaps you had imagined it more exciting than what was reflecting back at you. Grab some color! Have some fun! You'll like it better in no time.

I'm following this concept as I put together ideas for the gallery. Every time I begin to get too bogged down with the more serious business side of things, I throw in something creative. By keeping it colorful and exciting it reflects back a wonderful energy that makes the continued journey forward easier and fun.

Art has it's difficult side too. Focusing to improve can hurt your head. If you can remember to keep it interesting and fun, the journey and the outcome will always be more exciting.



Thank you for stopping by and leaving your wonderful comments. You really make my day!



Note: Roux & Cyr  (pronounced Roo & Sear)

Living with art

Ava in the Garden

Original oil painting  18x14"

by Susan Roux

What is the value of your art?

I don't mean the retail cost of it. No, not at all. I'm talking about how much it's valued by it's owner.

I was talking to my dear artist friend, Svetlana Beattie. I'd like to share with you the story she told me about a particular painting she'd done.

The lady who purchased her painting had become a close friend. She was a gardner among other things and invited Svetlana to come paint in the garden anytime she wished. It became the artist's point of inspiration for a great number of beautiful works. The relationship between the two grew, one loving the garden the other loving the painter's interpretation.

Two artists in their own right, not only appreciating each others creations, but finding stimulation to enhance their work by seeing it through the other's eyes.

The artist came frequently to paint directly in the garden. So often really, that she had almost become a moving sculpture in the landscape. The gardner had trouble seeing the artist's works leave her property. After all, they were an exquisite emotional response to her flowers and landscape. As it turned out, she would purchase many of them directly upon their completion. It was a very good relationship for both.

The artist had an exhibition and because many of her works were never shown in public, due to the gardner buying them instantly, the artists asked permission to show one of the paintings. At first the gardner didn't want to agree to it, but after some reflection and hard coaxing by the artist, she finally agreed to let it be shown.

Two short days after letting her painting go, the gardner came to the artist begging for her painting back. I can't stand it anymore! This big empty wall. I knew I loved your painting, but I never realized just how much it means to me. Every time I glanced over the painting soothed me, relaxed me. Now that it's missing I feel anxious and irritable. I need my painting back, right away!

It was emotional.

When you begin to live with a piece of original art, it may come as a surprise to the buyer, but you'll be affected by it in many ways. Much like a wine continues to grow and change in the bottle, a painting also has a life all it's own. The artist has projected their soul into it. It is impossible to separate the two. The deeper you look into a piece of art, the more you see and feel the artist.

Light changes in the household and each time, the painting changes as well. This is not a quality saved exclusively for Kinkade's work, though he would have liked to make people think so. Oil paintings change with varied light. It's part of the living quality it possesses.

These things, the soul of the artist, the light changing the painting, speak to the buyer. Living with art improves quality of life. It does exude healing properties. It can relax, de-stress and sooth... A buyer falls in love with the painting and each time he/she views it, it's comparable to viewing one's love. Just as your love can grow for your partner, so it can grow for your art.

The emotional attachment is real.


Now artist, go pour yourselves out on canvas! You never know how much it will inspire or affect someone else, so do your best and make it count. Art is a window into your soul. Put all your passion into it and it will reflect back.

Putting it in motion

Ocean Commotion

(Putting it in motion)

Original oil painting  20x16"

by Susan Roux

Some paintings just beg to be seen in person. This one is no exception. It seems no matter how many times I photograph it and adjust it, I can't get it to look like the original. It's as though I would have to adjust the background in one direction and the foreground in another. Opposing adjustments are essential to each area. How can I do that?

Yes all those colors exist in the background, however the eye blends them together to form a grayed base upon which the figure stands un-conflicted. In this version, the background demands as much attention as the figure. Believe me, in reality it's no contest. She wiggles center stage!

I like this pose. She seems totally in the moment, enjoying the movement of the water and oblivious to all the onlookers. (remember the photo shoot?) She appears seduced by the ocean...  Seduction. The repeating sound can have that effect, can't it?

I'm trying to implement a combination of emotional with fundamentals. Gut instinct with a bit of defining details. I have to admit, it's more fun to paint like this than to painstakingly focus on every stroke. The result is much softer and more emotional. I'm really pleased I took the last year to focus so intensely on the technical part, because I feel it helped improve my finish work. 

Here is my first girl, Frolicking, that was painted just one year ago. Don't you just love it when you can see the benefits of your hard work?

How does your work compare with that of just a year ago? Does it look the same? Are you growing as an artist or do you find yourself stagnating? There are lots of ways to shake things up. Sign up for a workshop. Go paint with other artists. Try some new techniques. Add a few unusual colors to your palette. Upgrade  your paints. Read Nicolaides, The Natural Way to Draw. Whatever you choose, if you focus on improving your skills, you can do whatever it is you set out to do. Work hard and believe in yourself. It's a winning combination. Have fun. Listen to your inner voice and don't forget to Paint the Poetry!

It's all up to you. What are you putting in motion?

Playing with color

Caressing

Original oil painting   20x16"

by Susan Roux

Last post I mentioned color is emotion. 

It isn't just a loose statement I've put out there in cyberspace. I experiment a lot with color and know it to be true. I can play for hours entertaining myself with color.

I'm not in a rush when I paint. Every canvas has turned into a learning playground. Don't misunderstand me. There are certainly times of major frustration. Major, MAJOR! But I like to take my time to watch what happens when I change things. Change things such as colors.

Emotion.

It's the greatest change that takes place as I alter the colors on a painting. 

These pretend backgrounds I place my beach girls in have offered an opportunity to cut loose and scribble color. Layers and layers of color get placed there every time I'm tense from focusing too severely on my girl. It's created a yin-yang for me. High intensity on capturing my figure versus complete release on the remainder of the canvas. I like painting large. Many of my girls sit on 28x22" canvases. That leaves a lot of empty space to scribble color! Believe me, I need the release...

Color doesn't scare me. I enjoy manipulating it, changing it and frankly I just embrace it. I think it's my favorite part of painting. If I had to move to black and white, I'd probably give up painting. It's at my very core. No wonder I spend so many working hours being entertained by it. 

If you're a little nervous about color, one easy principle comes to mind. Combine the primary colors (any red, blue or yellow) and the result is a grayed, neutralized pigment. Upon that neutral, any clean color will stand out. This basic knowledge frees me to play as much as I desire. If all fails, the result is a neutral tone. Any color can be added on top and stand out. 

In other words, play with too many colors on canvas and they dull. Some of you call it mud. This grayed base provides a perfect surface to place pure pigment. This concept keeps me fearless with regard to color. There always exists the opportunity to work pure pigment into a neutral area. 

I played with the background pigments of Caressing a lot. The mood and emotion of this painting changed as I altered the colors. In the end I emphasized those pigments that presented the emotion I preferred. The magenta's set off her sunlit back. The golden hues added warmth and sunlight to the water and the greens added a stable base anchoring the composition. The background became a mixture of secondary colors (green, purple and orange). 

Something has really grabbed me while painting these figures. I began in January of this year and continue to be amazed and challenged. All the while having a fun release in playing with colors on this simplified stage, a single figure in a vague atmospheric presence. As I focus on sun and shadow patterns falling on the figure, I also have been enjoying playing with (and learning) color.

What's your secret passion in your whole creative painting journey?

Color Harmony

Sunny Irises

Original oil painting  20x16"

by Susan Roux

While teaching my beginner/intermediate classes, there always comes a time when an explanation of what we're doing is necessary. With new students continually arriving, it becomes important to point out different types of painting. Most often it's the difference between arts and craft painting with fine art. Fine art is what I'm attempting to teach them. All they know is they signed up for an oil painting class...

I usually use the term Tole Painting, because most are familiar with that technique. Dip your brush in several colors at once and in one quick stroke, you have a shaded leaf or petal. I think the biggest difference with fine art is use of color. We seek color harmony. A limited palette helps. A toned canvas does too. But what if you aren't using any of those methods? 

Reference to a child's coloring book is a common one. I point out how a child will paint everything in its local color. The sun is yellow, the leaves are green and the water is blue. One of the first things I need to get my students to understand is the concept of intermingling color. If you could use each color all over your painting you would achieve color harmony. The Impressionist had that mastered.

One thing that really interests me is how color can move the eye throughout the painting. 

A painting catches a viewer. It sends their eye in a little exploration journey, hopefully throughout the entire canvas. The longer they linger, the more they'll see. At first the exploration may be about the elements in the painting. Eventually little things can travel the eye differently. As one catches onto a particular color, the eye will bounce around to all the spots with that color. If the eye focuses on darks, the eye travels throughout the painting seeking all the dark spots. The same is true for the light, shapes etc. 

Studies have shown that the eye will travel differently for each person. As an artist I like to think we have some sort of control in directing the viewer on their initial path. Beyond that, I think it's a very individualized thing. People's experiences and reactions to certain colors or subjects will effect their visual journey in a painting. Why is it that you will linger and return to a certain painting at the museum while other's can walk by it as though unaffected? There is something about your visual exploration that really grabs you. It speaks to you. It strikes you emotionally. 

Color is emotion.

Strokes can also be emotion, but color is very powerful. I wonder if we ever get to a place where we understand it fully? I'm continually amazed as I watch color interact with other colors on my canvas. Play in the paint a bit and move it around like frosting. Oh just talking about it can get my juices flowing... As colors neutralize, changes happen. It's like magic.

This painting is one I finished recently with a class. It annoyed me that the blue sky seemed isolated from the remainder of the painting. (the color appears a bit off and stark on this image) As I verbalized that, one of my students mentioned it was repeated in the irises. Somehow it wasn't enough. I found it visually disruptive. So I mixed a pale cool blue and added it to my iris leaves. Immediately I watched my color path change and saw the front foliage soften. Magic strokes. I just love that.

This is a scene from Monhegan Island. It could represent most typical New England places. Thanks for stopping by and thanks to all my wonderful students. 

How do you achieve color harmony?

Trusting instincts

A Marilyn Moment

Original oil painting  28x22"

by Susan Roux

Painting is unusual. Most things, do them long enough and you almost become an expert.  I know this like the back of my hand. Sometimes you feel you could even do them with your eyes closed.

Not true with painting.

It seems no matter how long you paint, or how good you get at it, there are always those pesky paintings that give you a run for your money. For some unknown reason they just won't come together. It's like back paddling, never pushing you forward. You begin to feel like you're just moving paint around. Colors that were once alive, dull. The more you layer, the worse it gets. At some point you might even consider wiping down the entire canvas. It's how I felt yesterday while toiling on this painting.

But...

Frustration can be your friend. Seriously. It doesn't feel like it at the time, but when you get to the point where you're ready to just trash the entire canvas, freedom and spontaneity take over. The big brushes come out. There's fearlessness pumping through your veins. That "I don't give a care" attitude can propel quantities of emotion onto your canvas. With big bold strokes, you find yourself hacking into your work. Where you once delicately painted detail, you now obliterate with a single stroke. Oddly it seems to be better. Either that or you just feel better unleashing. The painting takes an unexpected turn. A clearer direction, perhaps a new direction announces itself.

Often a new day and fresh eyes help. You might even put off going into the studio. After all you're expecting to see a terrible mess, but it usually isn't as bad as you remembered. Those bold strokes of late yesterday seem to compliment. That's when you know your gut took over. There's an empowering drive in trusting your instincts. It's comforting to see your instincts didn't fail you.  Even through bad days behind the easel, the creative you persevered. There's wonderful energy in that. Part of you suddenly becomes reassured.

When the going gets tough the tough get going. Kevin Mizner recently posted about keep on working especially when everything is going wrong. He never brings it full circle to connect with the painting process, but it's implied.

Where do you land on this? How long do you work a painting? Do you try to salvage or does it get dumped as soon as it begins to go awry?

Are you trusting your instincts?

Nicolaides words

Fetch

Original oil painting 18x24"

by Susan Roux

After dozens of suggestions from Don to buy Nicolaides, The Natural Way to Draw, I finally own a copy. I haven't posted for awhile because I've been toiling over this painting. Do you ever do that? Toil? I have grunts and groans, huffs and puffs of exasperation that pour uncontrollably from my body. I throw my brush down, take a few steps, turn to look at my work through a mirror, exhale deeply with thrust and return to do another stroke. The level of concentration is so great that each stroke seems a massive effort. In the beginning of Nicolaides book, I read a new word to describe this. Painstakingly.

It describes my efforts to a T. It's miles away from having "fun" on canvas. It's deep and concentrated and a place I don't always get to while painting. It renders with precision and every now and then, I find it necessary for what I'm trying to achieve. In this particular case his sweatshirt became the challenge. I wanted it to read oversized. My fear was making him just look fat.

The secret was in the folds. Nail the folds and it will look correct. So I spent hours and hours and days and days on those folds. Long days.

I was pretty content with the results. I know these images are inferior as usual and some of the values and transitions are incorrect. But still, I feel I captured so much extra space in his sweatshirt that you could almost crawl right into it with him. Painstakingly. Yeah, good word.

Nicolaides had another word to describe a painting method. Ferociously.

Now doesn't that conjure up a great image for you? He ferociously put paint to canvas. The release expressed in that sentence is massive. It reminds me of my initial block in. Some parts go on slower, but I definitely have moments of ferocious strokes. Spontaneity and determined force are things I associate with that. I often call it scribbling with paint. My backgrounds certainly fall into that category. This is where I'm in fear of having too much fun on canvas. Sometimes it's tempting to call a painting finished after ferociously blocking it in. It's full of freshness and personal emotion. It's easy to feel connected to it, but rarely my best work.

The biggest challenge I had with this painting was trying to keep enough spontaneous looking strokes to achieve movement. The tightness of the folds made this difficult. I found myself softening them a bit in the end. I felt I had to overcompensate by making my loose strokes extra loose, otherwise it all looked too stiff.

There lies a balance in there somewhere. I know I have a lot to learn before perfecting it. Maybe it never gets perfected. A juggling of the right amount of painstakingly and ferociously applied strokes. The yin and yang of art. Balance. Rhythm. A poetry of color...

The journey continues.

The endless journey

Warm Breeze

Original oil painting 20x16"

by Susan Roux

An artists journey is an interesting one to say the least. As we progress down the many winding roads of this journey, we come to realize that the end of the journey only exists if we choose to stop. Otherwise the journey is endless. Meaning that the more we know, the more we discover or are educated about art, the more we realize that there is still further to go. I don't care how masterful an artist may be, there is always more to learn.

I've been very fortunate this past year. I've seen my art evolve through experimentation and hard work. For those of you who follow me, you also know this improvement is due in large part to Don Hatfield. He has been a constant who keeps me focused and stimulated by opening my eyes to things I hadn't yet observed on my own.

If you can't see it, you can't paint it.

I repeat this phrase over and over. I feel a vision needs to exist, whether in our minds or through our eyes. Until you observe the light and the shadow, you cannot paint the light and the shadow. The same is true for all aspects of painting. If you can't see it or don't have the ability to break down what it is exactly that you're observing, it is impossible to replicate it in paint.

I'm not just referring to the representation of objects in one's work. I'm also referring to the emotion an artist has towards these objects. In fine art, it isn't simply representation that is necessary. It isn't only about a pretty picture. Fine art also captures emotion.

The emotion we capture is created by many factors. Color, brushstroke and values play a huge part. But a vision or understanding of the emotion you wish to portray needs to be present. Without the vision, the idea, it will not happen.

And so it goes... This is the great mystery, the giant labyrinth that we call the artist journey. It's a combined mesh of skill, observation and emotion. The variables are endless making the combination of the parts endless as well. So where are you on this journey?

I ran across an excerpt today by Barry John Raybould in his Virtual Art Academy. It opened my eyes to a level that I've yet to discover. It's perhaps a direction I'll need to focus on if I want to continue improving. But it seems a difficult step, so don't be expecting too much in this direction from me yet... Here is the excerpt.

Old master artists knew how to suggest a lot of detail without actually rendering it. Look closely at any of John Singer Sargent's paintings and you will notice that an elegant dress is no more than a series of abstract brushstrokes. If you make your viewers exercise their own imagination, you stimulate them to contribute their own thoughts and images to the work and become a participant in the experience. If you depict everything to make it look like a photograph, you leave nothing up to the imagination of the viewer. The other big advantage of the principle of suggestion is that once again you can say more with less, simplifying and strengthening the abstract design of your painting.

The abstract he refers to in John Singer Sargent's dresses is more than just a loose stroke. It's also a combination of loose color. Both of these combined creates the abstracts he speaks about that stimulate the viewer's imagination. Phew, do I have your head spinning yet? Mine is.

The endless journey... I wouldn't have it any other way.

Is art dying?

Best in Show

Its no secret to anyone that art is taught completely different nowadays than in the past. What was once structured and guided by rules has completely flipped to pushing creativity in search of the "never-been-done" before. I question myself, "Is art dying?"

Maybe its just me. Maybe I don't get it as much as I think I do. I know art is conceptual and so lends itself to many different interpretations. What captures one viewer may not capture another in the least. But it is my understanding that art is emotion. What pours out of an artist onto canvas (or other support) is their emotional response to their subject. A whole range of emotions can find themselves on canvas. Sadness, anger, happiness, love... To me art happens when the artists can actually convey their emotion to the viewer.

I don't believe art is doing something no one has ever done before.

All that is to me is simply, "something that has never been done before... " If I sit my muddy cat on a clean canvas, I don't call this art. If I grind mud into my canvas and drizzle unset strawberry jello over it and wash it down with organic apple juice, I don't call this art. It may very well be things that have never been done before, but to me, that alone doesn't make it qualify as art.

Maybe its just me...

Posted is a painting that took best in show at an association-run gallery. It is Bacon. It's a print made with bargain bacon on Asian paper. The jurors said, “This very powerful print gets its strength from the color and shape of the composition. The scale of the image, the way it is presented and the placement within the frame all add to a very compelling piece. The work finds success between starkness and complexity that makes it intriguing and fun. The unconventional materials used in producing the work inform the piece with a good mix of metaphor and irony. We applaud the artist for their creativity and exploration.” — Robert Lash & Kerstin Gilg

This is a huge juried show in Maine and the gallery can get as many as 300 entries. It is perhaps the biggest fund raiser the gallery has. A few years back, a wide variety of art could be found there. In recent years, some University professors got involved and the whole flavor of the once totally embracing association changed to exhibiting mostly contemporary art. The three big winners were all created in a sepia tone. Is this the new direction of art? Did I miss the memo? Did I waste my money on my recent order of colored paint?

I didn't enter the juried show. This post is not my anger lashing out because I didn't make the cut. I'm saddened that as time goes by, the college professors are young and they too have never been taught the rules that guide us to great art. The rules that the masters of yesteryear have left behind, passed down from generation to generation. Is art dying?

"A very compelling piece," the jurors said.

To whom? Five marks in a typical counting block is anything but compelling to me.

In todays struggling art market, all too often we hear comments like, "I don't like art. I don't understand it." These are from people who rarely expose themselves to art. They must have never been moved by a piece before. Perhaps the only exposure they get are images of winning pieces posted in local newspapers. They see images like this bacon piece. They are not moved. They continue to think they don't like art. Is it a wonder? I fear a growing negative trend in future potential-art-buyer's minds.

I ask again, "Is art dying?"