Across, egg tempera on calfskin parchment, 7 x 5 inches.I've been looking at the photographic source for this painting for some months and have been very intrigued by it, wondering if its stark composition of mostly blacks would work as a painting; and, how difficult was it going to be to paint the illusion of folds in the black. I can now say that even though it wasn't a breeze, working on this painting was a pleasure as its forms developed. Many layers of different hues and values underlie the blacks; I kept painting until I felt the frisson of a tactile presence. And the greens! the green pipe moving across the black went through a multitude of variations: warmer and cooler, light and darker green, shadow higher or lower, greater or lesser contrast. I finally got it to a place where I think it works with the black––very different color but similar light––and exists in a space in front of it. The result is what is a very startling painting to me, a shock of green across black and hard geometry softened by folds.
In this detail you can see something of the textured marks I used to enliven the surface of the blacks.
With this painting, I have begun a shift in my ideas about size, thinking that I'd like to make my paintings a little larger. At this size a one inch increase can make a big difference. Above on the left is the original photo for this work at 5 1/2 x 4 inches; that is the size I would have painted it if I made the painting a couple of months ago. Recently the forms began looking too small to me, so I made the photo one inch larger across, 1 1/2 inches larger vertically. It doesn't sound like much, but it changed the feeling of the piece considerably. I was in the studio this week, putting away some older paintings on panel and thinking about my very small paintings in relation to the "normal" sized ones. It was clear to me why I love doing these small works: they ask for a close look and an intimate encounter.
I like your new painting a lot Altoon, beautiful rich color and forms. I can't help but think of plumbs, and paper because of the crease, and the green is perfect.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great journey to take. I love how you lift us out of "what is" and take us to "what feels." I also can appreciate the sense of scale changing so dramatically since I am a jewelry artist. (learning how to paint... watching you) Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeletexoxo
thanks so much both for the comments.
ReplyDeleteYou 'see' so precisely and carefully the smallest details and shift in colors. When you are not painting do you see everything as you see when you are painting? You paintings really amaze me, Altoon.
ReplyDeleteI am very touched by these comments, from rappel's perfect green to annette saying my painting takes us to "what feels" to suze's praise of my seeing small details.
ReplyDeleteand to answer suze's question, I hope I do from time to time. It's for certain that photographing and writing for the blog have helped me see and think more clearly and precisely.
"painting until I felt the frisson of a tactile presence", what a wonderful way to describe the experience of your work. This painting sings!
ReplyDeletethanks, john, for compliments of both painting and writing.
ReplyDeleteI must confess that I wait until the end of the day to look at your post. It is an indulgence and transition gift to myself.
ReplyDeleteI love that you are thinking about growing the panels. Somehow, it fits the season and feels free.
How nice to know, Deborah, that my blog posts are a treat for you. Yes, a little growth in panel size does seem suited for spring into summer.
ReplyDelete"It's for certain that photographing and writing for the blog have helped me see and think more clearly and precisely."
ReplyDeleteI was listening to a book recently where the author was talking about "mind patterning". That our mind seems to develop patterns from the way we think and experience. That these patterns color our awareness and in turn effect our experience. Native people knew this through tradition and intuition. Your comment reminds me of Van Gogh's letters to Theo www.vangoghletters.org/vg/. I'm not comparing personalities of course, but the act of sharing thoughts on deep level and how it effects experience. Art is a form of communication. It is nuanced by the unknowable depths of the artist's experience and the acuity of her awareness. Somehow, this idea of "patterning" rings true, makes the unknowable a little more tactile. Your life and your blog are not the same. But the blog can, perhaps, set up an expectation, a pattern, that makes you not only want to rise to a higher plane, but gives form to the yearning.
(As you know, I am also frequently full of shit.);)
Not much to add after all these astute and generous comments . Except that I am on the bandwagon! You would imagine that I am intrigued at how the photography figures into the mix, especially B & W. Focusing away from color intensifies so much else and, as others have said, turns up what you "see."
ReplyDeletejohn, I'm one of those artists who believe in a conscious approach to my work; when I taught I was insistent that students thought about and could articulate what they were doing. Not everyone works this way; some prefer an intuitive approach. I agree with you that sharing thoughts can change awareness. As for rising to a higher plane, well, we can only hope...
ReplyDeleteJulie, I shoot my source material in color, but print in b&w and color. I use color shots to give a sense of local color but then rely on b&w for form and detail while working so that my color imagination has free reign.