The Value in Value

by Jennifer L. Hoffman

It is very easy to see value in a drawing, as the entire image is created 
with only black, white, and shades of gray. Behind the Clouds, 
charcoal on paper, private collection, © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

In art, value is simply how dark or light something is.  There are many, many elements that must come together in a painting in order for it to be successful. It can be argued that, at least in representational painting, none is more important than accurate value. 

There are some great quotes out there about value in painting.*  Here's one, oft-repeated by artists, attribution unknown:
"Value does all the work; color gets all the glory." 

Or this one, from the author of Design and Expression in the Visual Arts, John F. A. Taylor: 
"There are painters... who know how to dispense with hues and saturations.  There is no painting which can dispense with values." 

Or this gem from Harley Brown:
"In painting, as in life, you can get away with a lot as long as you have your values right."

There are many similar values in this pastel.

You might think of value as the skeletal structure on which the rest of the painting hangs.  If an artist carefully observes and transcribes the values of a scene, the color he or she uses can be realistic or completely imaginary, but the scene will still make sense to the viewer.  (Click here for some examples of realistic value/imaginative color from a past show on Hungarian Fauvism).  If the values are off, however, no amount of color manipulation will make the painting work.  

Evening Song, pastel on board, 20x30, available. © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

Our brains have a surprising amount of preconceived ideas about what colors and values are or should be. Master artist and teacher Ned Jacob learned a lesson about the difference between our preconceptions and reality when painting with his mentor, Robert Lougheed. "The first time the two worked outside together, Jacob painted a horse with rich, dark color and black shadows.  When Jacob finished the picture, Lougheed walked over and studied it for awhile.  'Now what would you use if you were painting a post hole in that shadow?'" (Sandra Dallas, Sacred Paint: Ned Jacob, Santa Fe, NM: Fenn Galleries Publishing, Inc., 1979.)  The notions that we grow up with (snow is white, shadows are black, etc) often go unquestioned until we learn to truly observe the world around us.

A number of common problems in paintings can be directly attributed to value errors.  Ned provided me with an "Aha!" moment just as Lougheed had done for him decades before, when he made this observation while watching me struggle with a plein air study: "If you can't seem to get your values light enough, you probably aren't painting your darks dark enough."  Whoa.  That one cracked my head wide open!  It made so much sense, but I had never realized it.  Another example of a value problem is something often bemoaned by beginning artists - muddy color.  A muddy color is just a grayed color of the wrong value (and/or temperature - see Kathryn's post on color for more on the concept of temperature). 
  
So how does an artist determine correct values in a subject?  Values are in fact a set of relationships.  Determining the darkest dark in a composition and the lightest light is a great starting point.  And one of the best ways to see general values is to do something you've heard mentioned on this blog before.  SQUINT.  Squinting at a subject eliminates unnecessary detail and simplifies the main information.  In general, the darkest darks will be found in the center of interest of your composition, or in the foreground of a landscape (this is a rule of thumb - many artists have purposefully and successfully broken that rule).  Once the darkest dark and lightest light have been determined, the values of other elements in the subject can be determined through comparison.  Using thumbnail sketches helps to map out the most important value areas and to determine the value relationships throughout the composition. 

The darkest darks are in the cast shadows beneath the eggs in this painting.

 

Four Eggs, pastel on mounted paper, 9x12, available.  © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

Artists often manipulate the value range in their paintings for emotional or artistic effect.  Paintings that stay in the lightest value range are referred to as "high key" paintings, where the darkest dark might be a middle gray. 

A close value range in this pastel creates an introspective, quiet mood.

Whisper, pastel on board, 11x14, available. © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

Likewise, paintings painted in the lower scale of the value range are called "low key" paintings, where the lightest light might be a middle gray.  Paintings with subtle value shifts and close value ranges communicate a different feeling than those with big contrasts.  All of these choices reflect the artistic voice of the image maker.

Value contrasts create a sense of sun and shade.

A Worn Path, pastel on mounted paper, 20x16, available.
© Jennifer L. Hoffman.

I leave you with a quote from the great master, John Singer Sargent:

"Color is an inborn gift, but appreciation of value is merely training of the eye, which everyone ought to be able to acquire."

When you are out and about in the world, take a moment to squint.  See if you can find the darkest dark and lightest light in the view you see.  Do the same when you look at art.  The more you practice, the easier it becomes.  Sargent would be proud of you.
_____________________________________

*A great source for quotes on all manner of art topics can be found on Robert Genn's fantastic website: www.art-quotes.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.