The pleine air painting and a question from Pope Julius II

Is it finished?

The story is told that when Michelangelo was painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, Pope Julius II would look up and shout to him "When will you be done?," and Michelangelo would shout back "When it is finished!" Of course they were talking about physically finishing the paintings of the entire ceiling and not just one particular segment. This, admittedly is a round about way of taking us to pleine air painting and the question of when it is finished. Pleine air painting poses a very different question of when a work is finished versus a studio painting, of course, because of time constraints. One could argue that this statement is not true, as finished means finished no matter where the painting takes place. I will be truthful and tell you that most of my paintings are not alla prima and require some work in the studio to be "presentable." Occasionally, I come upon a scene that is so perfect for pleine air work that I can figuratively paint it before I paint it. These paintings do not need a single stroke after the work out of doors.  For me, this is rare but it does happen.

This is an alla prima piece measuring 20 x 16

The question is, "How do you know when the painting is complete?" The answer lies in another question, "Does your picture represent all that you wished to say of the scene before you?" We know that something can always be added to a painting to "finish" it. We think that we need more detail, some color correction, maybe some composition rearrangement, more design elements, softening of edges, nicer brushstrokes, and so forth. It is at this point that we should lay the brushes down and take a closer look at the painting. What do I mean by a closer look? Analyze the scene before you and revisit your inspiration for choosing it to paint. What was it that made you want to express your feelings in the painting? Was it the mood or the particular subject or the raw emotion? How could you best capture these feelings in paint? Do you still see these emotions in your painting up to this point? Does something else need to be added to express your emotion more fully? I speak for myself when I say that I have ruined many pleine air paintings by answering these questions incorrectly. Sometimes the rather rough appearance of a two-hour painting worries me. I think that I must do more in spite of the fact that I like what I have done, and I feel that it tells the story. Why do I question the completeness of my work when I am satisfied with the result? Is it because I fear it won't sell or others might say that it seems "unfinished?"

I enjoy painting in the vignette style, which leaves some of the canvas unpainted. I have left it that way because, simply, there was no more to say. I don't know at the start of the picture that it will be a vignette because I haven't concentrated on making the whole canvas a picture. I am working at using the space I need to paint the subject. This is a fault of mine, so I shouldn't be sensitive to comments about completing the picture (*expletives deleted*).  Many paintings can be touched up in the studio... but, be careful! This is where the painting is most susceptible to be ruined. Stand back 4 feet and keep your brush off of the painting until you know exactly what you will do to improve it. If you don't really know what to do, leave it alone! You have then made the best decision.

What we have talked about here is one of the most difficult of questions that an artist asks himself. If you have a good, solid feeling for what you are trying to say, then you WILL know when you have said it. A lukewarm response to the subject before you will almost always result in a lukewarm representation in paint. So, happy painting and remember Pope Julius!

 

Behind the Brushes

"The pleine aire painting and a question from Pope Julius II"

Bill Sawczuk

Trio Fine Art

www.triofineart.com

When is Fine Painting Like Cooking?

Q: When is Fine Painting like Fine Cooking?

A: When the artist knows what to put in and what to leave out.

  Bill Sawczuk



Running Horses, oil on linen, 12x16. © Bill Sawczuk, 2014.



When I was a kid in the 50s, we used to eat a lot of soup.  Sometimes the soup contained everything in the icebox (that's right, the icebox), and although it was flavorful, we couldn't tell what flavor it was.  It was called garden soup, but sometimes we called it garbage soup.  I think that the same thing could be applied to painting.  If you put too much in, the picture might be painted well, but the viewer might not recognize the subject .   

Peaceful Afternoon, oil on linen, 8x10. © Bill Sawczuk, 2014.



Stippy's and Moran, oil on linen, 9x12. © Bill Sawczuk, 2014.

We are often tempted while painting en plein air to include everything that we see in the scene.  We may feel that the viewer might need all the facts to understand the picture.  The crucial time to resist the temptation to put everything in the soup is in the early composition stage of the painting.  Ask the question,  "What do I need to tell the story?"  The all-inclusive data is in the scene before me, but what should I leave out?  What can the viewer complete in his own analysis of the painting?  Will I clutter up my efforts to express my reaction to the scene by including every tree, every branch, every rock, etc.?  All of these elements may be hinted at in my painting, and the viewer will know that it is a forested, rocky scene.

 

Zero in on the subject.  Know what you are trying to say.  If you don't know that, why are you painting?  If you are trying to show the beauty of horses running through a pasture , for example, what more do you need than the horses and the pasture?  Do you need fences, barns, rocks or anything else? Paint the horses  as well as you can. Try to show their grace and their spirit .  If you can do  that, you will be successful.  Your painting will be complete, and you won't have to throw anything else in!

Texas Blood, oil on linen, 10x10. © Bill Sawczuk, 2014.

 

 

We want to share our artistic process with you! 

This is a continuing series of posts here on our gallery blog:

Behind the Brushes  -  http://triofineart.blogspot.com

The artists at Trio will be taking turns writing about art and sharing on the last week of each month.  If you have a question or an idea for a post, please email us at trio@triofineart.com

or call 307-734-4444.

 

Visit our website at www.triofineart.com

 

Why Did I Paint It?

Bill Sawczuk on

Choosing the Subject of a Landscape Painting

I am often asked the question, " Why do you choose to paint what you do?" When I decide to paint plein air on any particular day, I usually have a general area as a destination, hoping to find some outstanding subject matter in that area. It's often similar to a reaction that a tourist might have when coming to a scene that demands a photograph. The particular subject matter might be as awe inspiring as the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, or as intimate as a squirrel feeding on pinecone seeds. It is a scene worth remembering in photographic detail or in paint. A major difference is that the artist can manipulate the composition in many different ways, such as adding features or leaving things out. Colors and moods can be changed or left as is. The important thing is to retain the initial impression in the artistic effort. The artistic effort is often successful but sometimes not . It takes years of outdoor work to be able to capture the essence of a scene and to impart that feeling of "special" to the viewer.

 

Teton Waters, ©Bill Sawczuk, oil on linen, 24x24.

What Once Was, Bill Sawczuk, oil on linen, 16x20.

Winter Cottonwoods, Bill Sawczuk, oil on linen, 14x11.