Sometimes You Need a Redo

The original version of this landscape pastel of a Colorado Blue Spruce in Connecticut was done in a looser style. You can see it in a previous post of mine. I painted over it to see how a smoother version would look. I don't really like either one. Someday the more successful aspects of each edition may be incorporated into a larger scale pastel painting. 

Sometimes a piece of artwork can only be fixed by completely starting over. I do best with a redo when I'm in a patient mood, and have thought about the problems for a while. 

The Difference Between Landscapes and Still Lifes

It looks a bit like a dinosaur came along and
threw up in the middle of this scene.

Showing more simplification.

With a still life it’s important to include what’s there. I’ve composed it and lit it to my satisfaction and the objects need to look like what they are (since my style is realistic art). However with a landscape, drawing what’s really there is disastrous. Here are examples of what I mean. Trees in a landscape are full of complexity. Each trunk has multiple branches and each branch has multiple leaves. Drawing that causes the artwork to look busy and confused as in the first sample. The second sample shows some simplification of the tree on the left. It actually looks more real than the more complex one towards the right. The third example is the most successful because I’ve simplified it to the essence of the tree’s architecture, using shapes of light and dark. 

Finally, something
with a certain elegance.

The difference then between a still life and a landscape is clear. One can be representative of what’s there and the other, due to shifting light and shadow as well as complexity of form, must be simplified to be successful. Then the beauty that is inherent in a scenic view can come through in its depiction.

Note: these three drawings were done with Cretacolor fine art leads. I don't have a relationship with that company. I just like these leads when I sketch in the field or in the studio.

Thoughts on style

One of my still life pastels—

this was fun to do

An artist's thoughts on style, or where will I land with landscapes?

With still life pastels I seemed to find my artistic style fairly early on. But I've had more of a struggle with landscapes, and I've never been entirely satisfied with the results. Some landscapes came out very nicely, but I wondered if they were merely exceptions to the rule. Maybe they pointed to something I was overlooking. After all, I have been drawing for decades and a style ought to come without too much of a struggle. It should be fun to do in some way (which is not the same as easy). The lack of some level of enjoyment always means something's not quite right. At least for me.

So the landscapes have recently been taking on a more nervous, line oriented style as opposed to the more representational feel I lean toward with a still life. That's the case for now but no one should be surprised if I follow various approaches to the landscape before I settle on one basic thematic style, although of course it would vary according to the particular scene. Drawing the outdoors is infinitely more complex than what I can arrange in a still life indoors. 

I took a few more pictures today in hopes of carrying on the pursuit of that elusive thing called style. Keep coming back to this blog to see some samples of what I'm talking about. 

Using Copper Reflections in a Still Life

Copper is a great element to add to still life pastels. Depending on lighting, how tarnished it is, or whether it picks up reflections from other objects, copper can assume many different co Copper is a great element to add to still life pastels. Depending on lighting, how tarnished it is, or whether it picks up reflections from other objects, copper can assume many different colors. I like the color red and I can always find a way to work some red into a copper still life pastel. Being metallic it usually has a vivid highlight picked up from the lighting. I can use that as an anchor to build the design of a pastel painting around. People invariably love bright reflections on a metal surface. It’s attractive to the eye and it gives the viewer a place to start, before looking at the rest of the painting. In other words copper in a stil life makes a great center of interest. Here’s an example of one of the many still life efforts I’ve done involving copper. It’s available for sale and the contact information to learn more is pmcreedon@optonline.net or visit my website: pecreedon.com

Camelias by Paul Creedon

The Best Drawings or Paintings

Usually the best drawings or paintings seem almost to draw or paint themselves. They pour out smoothly onto the paper and seem to fall into place. Pastel colors blend beautifully, the textures work together and there is a landscape or still life that has really come to life on the page. But this state of affairs is a culmination of a lengthy period of learning, trial and error, or   in other words, the best art is usually the result of a lot of frustrating failures that went before. I think one learns the most from the disasters, not the triumphs. The disasters tend to far out number the triumphs too, at least in my experience as a fine artist. So you could say, I'm able to learn a lot and often, but it's all worth it when a wonderful piece of art is sometimes the gratifying result!

What is your experience getting to the best in your work or your art? Was it worth the effort? Did you learn something?

The Need to Simplify or Abstract Art

Marble Quarry Pastel Landscape by Paul Creedon.

As a pastel artist I find that the most formidable challenge in the visual arts is the need to simplify (or abstract) the appearance of the object I intend to paint with my pastels or draw with sanguine chalks. My artist's instincts seem to resist the idea of leaving out some of what I see when I compose a new still life or create a landscape. But given my years of experience and training I know that I must in order to arrive at a better picture.

And it will be a better picture. That is because a lot of extraneous stuff will be left out that would only confuse the viewer and art lover. Even if they are someone who is used to looking at fine art. Knowing what to leave out also helps to convey the one major thought that I want a person to see and come away with. Perhaps it's the roundness of a fruit in a pastel still life or the light coming through the trees in a landscape drawing.  Either way I know the picture is enhanced when there are fewer distractions.

To see more of my pastel art and to make a purchase contact Patricia Creedon at 

pmcreedon@optonline.net.

Problem Solving in Art

Squinting must be one of humanity’s greatest inventions. When I am at a loss about what to do with an unusually obdurate painting, I look at it and squint. Once my headache clears up, I’ve gotten a start on what needs to be simplified or changed.

Maybe this works for me because I give my brain a nice problem: what has to be edited out of a scene so that enough of it remains for the mind to make sense of it? Theoretically the optic nerve is impartial, so I can depend on its decisions.

Another recommended method of determining what’s wrong with a piece that just isn’t cooperating, is to look at it upside down. Frankly this one has never worked that well for me. Still, if some line I’ve convinced myself is ramrod straight just happens not to be so straight, the upside down trick will usually deliver the bad news.

Supposedly, one of the premier challenges for the artist is to know when to stop working on his piece of art. I generally stop when I’m sick of the thing.

I read this thought (or something like it) engraved on a brick in Rowayton, CT: “Art is a window into the soul.” I think that’s true, but there’s more to it than that.

It would be nice if I could sit down, turn on a spigot, let my soul drip onto a piece of paper, and call it profound. But things don’t seem to work that way. First, of course, I would have to have something in my soul worth showing to the world. Assuming I do, exactly how should I put it into some form which other people could make sense of?

These pictures don’t draw themselves, you know.

This actually is my second attempt at writing my blog. The first one had to go into the trash at the bottom right of the computer screen (so now you know I’m using a mac). A lot of my artwork ends up in the trash as well.

What was wrong with Blog 1.0 you ask? Too pedantic for one thing. I was just repeating what the teachers used to say back in art school. Well, a lot of what they said was true, but I had to learn that for myself.

Paul's pastel, "Three Apples", was accepted into the juried "Spectrum" art show at the Carriage Barn in New Canaan. It opens May 1st.