Create Compositions That Work

So... just what is it that makes one painting work, and another one fall flat on its face (so to speak)?

Have you ever worked on a painting that was not coming together, no matter what, and you just couldn't figure out what the heck it was that was not working? It feels pretty frustrating, doesn't it?

Chances are the painting has got a problem with its composition. And if a painting's composition isn't working, it doesn't matter how beautifully parts of it are painted. Those parts are like lipstick on a pig... no matter how nice the lipstick, underneath, it's still a pig. (My apology if I offend any pigs!)

Composition study — why isn't this working?

For instance, if you were to sum up what's not working in the composition study above — or why it's not working — could you do it in one word?

Is it easier to identify when you look at it upside down?

Is it easier to see why it's not working upside down? Give it a good, long look.

There are so many variables to take into consideration when you paint — there's line, there's color (although it's not in the study above), there's value, there are the relationships between the shapes in the painting, there are questions about drawing and whether the drawing works, and more... and then there's composition, which incorporates all of them.

That's what we'll be focusing on in the workshop I'm teaching on October 25th and 26th, 2014, Create Compositions That Work, at the Calistoga Art Center, in Calistoga, California. Because if the composition ain't happy, ain't nobody happy....

And that's why we'll be looking at — to start with — the painter's intention; the two basic kinds of paintings, compositionally speaking, no matter what the subject matter; and how to identify and manage the elements of both kinds of paintings, and make them work.

The same principles apply, whether you're looking at landscape paintings, still lifes, portraits, abstract work, or work in pretty much any other genre.

If you come, you'll go home with specific, practical tools and know-how that you can use to get out of, and avoid, those painting predicaments from here on out. Join us, and learn to create compositions that work!

You can find out more about the workshop here, at www.NapaValleyArtWorkshops.com.

So, how would you sum up what isn't working in the composition study above — or why it's not working, if you only had one word?

Here's the one I would choose to explain why it doesn't work: confusion. The painter hasn't decided what's important about the painting. Is it the sheep? The trees on the hill? The pattern of the rows? The painter hasn't decided. It's a decision that is absolutely basic for the painting, and determines how the painter needs to handle everything else as a result. Its lack causes confusion.

Does that make sense? We'll talk about more about it at the workshop!

Painting a simple still life - IV

New Kid in Town, progress • © 2011 Karen Lynn Ingalls

The painting is finally beginning to come into its own. Here, I've worked on the edge of the box behind the left apple, thinned the vertical charcoal line, and brought a pale apricot-ish color into the background on the right. I've also brought more yellow into the background on the left, evening out the color somewhat.

I've used scumbling extensively. (To see a scumbling demonstration, see "Scumbling video lesson with Jan Blencowe.") Not only have I used it to soften the shadows under the apples (I've also brought some of the red of the apples into the shadows), but I have also used it to soften the colors of the apples themselves, as well as their highlights. On the apples, I rubbed the paint around with the edge of a paper towel (and used my fingers - but please, use the paper towel - it may be less expedient, but it's just as effective, and much safer).

Where will the painting go next? When a painting gets to this point, it's wise to step back and consider well before each step – one little brush stroke may be all it needs. In my dialogue with the painting, my job here is to listen well. It may take the painting a while to speak to me, so need to sit and look and listen for as long as it takes. I'll let this painting tell me where it wants to go next – but I think I'm likely to tone down the intensity of the yellow in the background. I may also bring some layers of glazing over the apples - but we'll see.

Painting a simple still life - III

New Kid in Town, progress • © 2011 Karen Lynn Ingalls

Back to the three little red apples.... Finally, I've added the stems! And a little bit more highlighting on the apples....

These apples have, for me, had specific personalities and interrelationships since I redrew them in charcoal, leaning them in directions slightly different from reality. They've also had a title, since soon after I began blocking in the color – which sometimes happens for me in a painting. New Kid in Town seems to sum up the sense of an outsider approaching a pair, with each apple in the pair leaning in or away in different relation to the "new kid."

New Kid in Town, progress • © 2011 Karen Lynn Ingalls

These later stages of the painting are where the personalities of the apples are really seeming to emerge – but where I can take them now depends on the big shapes of the composition underneath, and getting the composition right in the early stages.

Here, additional work on the highlights on the apples and their stems really brings the viewer's eye in to these focal points.

I've also corrected the edge behind the apple on the left. The increased intensity of the yellows are now crying out to me for change. With the details on the stems, the vertical line of the charcoal no longer works for me – so these two things will probably be the first things I develop next.

Painting a simple still life - II

Three Apples still life, progress • © 2011 Karen Lynn Ingalls

Remember them apples?

Here, you can see the progression of the process of this painting, from setting up the composition (missing photos of the thumbnails - but I did them); to drawing and adjusting the composition, to blocking in the big shapes of color, to refining those shapes and colors, and addressing values.

Three Apples still life, progress • © 2011 Karen Lynn Ingalls

Here, those dark values have been softened by layers of scumbled color. The edges of dark shadows have been lightened and softened (there were multiple sources of light, explaining why the shadows are spread in more than one direction).

I have left the vertical black charcoal line untouched - I like it. It anchors the apples nicely in their place (and divides the space by the Golden Ratio, or the Golden Mean - a blog post for another time - which is pleasing to the eye).

There is plenty yet to do - bringing in the highlights on the apples, painting their stems, adjusting the lower left edge, and further refining of the shadows among them. Depending on how much detail I want to get into, I could push this to a very detailed place, continuing to refine it further and further (something I'm not as likely to do, given my inclinations as a painter). This is how a painting evolves!

One step at a time - beginning a painting

When you're beginning a painting from a subject, the same principles apply, whether it's a still life, landscape, or portrait, and whether it's realist, impressionist, expressionist, abstracted, or some other style. You can only take one step at a time – and you can't get to the end before you've begun.

Generally, new painters want to skip the preliminary steps and go straight to painting luscious detail. But – you can trust me on this – if you skip the preliminary steps, you will go far awry. Then you'll get depressed and frustrated and want to chuck the whole thing - pain that you can save yourself by just taking things one step at a time.

In this demonstration, Gregg Kreutz "Market Flowers" DVD from Liliedahl Video, on YouTube, artist Gregg Kreutz begins by catching the essential gesture of his still life subject. This also establishes the placement of the subject in his composition.

Next, he begins blocking in the large shapes (he has toned the canvas beforehand).

Then he turns his attention to the background. Notice as you watch the video that he does not paint with black – he mixes his darks, creating a much more interesting color.

Only then, once he has established the basic shapes of the composition, does he begin to break the painting down into smaller shapes and greater detail. Here is the final painting, as he puts down the last brush stroke. Although this video clip doesn't show you the intermediary steps, he is very clear that how he has begun is essential for getting these lovely results.

The process is the same, whatever style or genre you're working in: you can only take it one step at a time.

Seeing the Big Picture - III

B.R. Cohn Vineyard, east of Glen Ellen • © 2010 Karen Lynn Ingalls

I said in the last post on this subject (for both previous posts, see Seeing the Big Picture - I and Seeing the Big Picture - II) that there are two simple things that will help you see the big picture. (Only two? Nyaaah... humor me here....) The first is making thumbnail sketches.

The second simple thing that will help you see the big picture is squinting.

Huh?

Squinting reduces the amount of light entering the eye, and allows us to see things more in terms of value (lightness and darkness) than color. It allows us to mimic night vision, in a way. At night, our ability to see color is limited, so we see objects as variations of light or dark.

B.R. Cohn Vineyard, east of Glen Ellen • © 2010 Karen Lynn Ingalls

Without getting too technical, it has to do with the rods and cones in our eyes, which determine how we see (you can find a scientific explanation of them at The Rochester Institute of Technology Center for Imaging Science, or a more easily understandable explanation at the University of Washington's Neuroscience for Kids - obviously very smart kids).

So squinting helps us see large areas of similar values. If you squint at the photographs above, in this post, where are the light patches? Where are the dark patches?

Arrangement in grey and black No. 1, the mother of the artist

James McNeill Whistler, 1871

If you squint at Whistler's Mother, where are the light patches? Where are the dark patches? Where are the middle values? (Whistler has done a lot of the hard work for you here.)

The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone • Thomas Moran, 1893 - 1901

If you squint at this small image of Thomas Moran's The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, where are the light patches? Where are the dark patches? In this most highly detailed painting (you can see a larger version of it here), can you see the bigger picture?

Thomas Moran, like Albert Bierstadt a painter of monumental scenes of the American West (this canvas is 8' x 14' in size), was able to incorporate lots of splendid details into this enormous canvas, but it wouldn't work unless he was very clear about the big shapes – about the big picture.

Squinting allows us to simplify the big shapes in whatever we are looking at – the land before us, a still life setup, a model, a photograph image, a painting – and see them clearly. Use it! Often! It works! (And try it out on those thumbnails....)

Cropping photographs for painting

Cropped photograph, © Karen Lynn Ingalls 2010

When painting from a photograph, you will need to crop your photograph before you begin to paint. This is something like doing thumbnail sketches before you paint. You are working out compositional possibilities. Every photograph contains within it any number of possible compositions – it is up to you to find the ones that appeal to you most.

I hear your question already – why can't you just paint from the photo as it is? Why go through a whole process of cropping what you've got?

First, the proportions of a photograph are different from those of most standard canvas and paper sizes. Consider: what size and shape do you want your painting surface to be? The proportions of an 18"x24" canvas are different from those of a 20"x24" canvas, in significant ways. What are the proportions of your painting surface? Do you want to work on a square shape? Maybe you want to work with a vertical format, and your photo is in a horizontal format. Cropping will allow you to discover new compositional possibilities hidden within the photograph in front of you.

Second, an uncropped photograph will give you too much information. It's too much to ask of your brain to continually refer to the photo and ignore portions of its visual information; it's much simpler to just make sure those portions aren't there to distract you.

Finally, using a photograph as is ties you to what the camera predetermines. An artist needs to allow room for creativity and imagination, for experimentation and play. You don't want to be a slave to the photograph – do you?

Now you can play with the possibilities.

If you are cropping your photograph digitally, your experimentation will all be on the computer. You can try various croppings, save them, and come back to and compare them all later. Then you can print the ones you like best to use as photographic references. I print mine on full-size photographic paper, and put them in page protectors, so I don't get paint on them.

If you have photographs already printed, first protect them. 4"x6" photographs fit nicely inside little plastic sandwich bags, which are clear and don't obstruct your vision.

Cropped photograph, © Karen Lynn Ingalls 2010

Then take pieces of paper – I cut wide, straight strips out of copy paper or whatever else I have to hand – and use them to frame different compositional possibilities. How many different, interesting compositions can you find? This is the part that is like creating thumbnail sketches. It may be possible to get several interesting paintings out of one photograph.

In these two examples, the composition I chose was a very small part of the larger photograph. Sometimes you may want to leave much more of the original photo.

Once I figure out which composition appeals to me most, I tape the strips of paper down around it, so that I will not be distracted by the rest of the photograph.

Then I get my painting surface ready. I can either choose my composition first, and then use a surface that matches its proportions, or I can determine what painting surface I want to use first, and find compositions that match its proportions. Photo ready? Painting surface ready? Paints? Brushes? Water and medium? Hallelujah – now you can paint!

Interview with painter Karen Appleton, II

Till Death Do Us Part © Karen Appleton, reproduced by permission

What's composition all about, ultimately? For painter Karen Appleton, it's finding ways of making the painting irresistible – pulling the viewer right into it.

"I always want to make the strongest abstract visual statement, but before I start thinking about composition, I am already in love with the idea for the painting. The foundation of a painting for me is always an idea or feeling, and once I know this, all composition decisions are based on what will best describe what I want to say in the painting. How and where I crop an image or don't crop an image; how and where lights falls; how shadows are cast; what direction shapes are going – all these things help me express the underlying idea."

Dandelion © Karen Appleton, reproduced by permission

"One basic approach to composition for me, though, is to keep in mind the Alfred Sisley quote I have on my blog, which is, 'Every painting shows a spot with which the artist has fallen in love.' I always looks for that one area on my model or set-up that just makes my heart beat faster.

Joy to the World © Karen Appleton, reproduced by permission

"With that spot or area in mind, I organize the image on the canvas so the spot will land on or near one of the golden sections of the canvas. Then I check to make sure diagonals from the folds of wrapping paper, corkscrews of ribbons, cast shadows, etc., are leading the eye around and to that area. For me, this spot is always a key area in describing the feeling or idea behind the painting as well.

detail, Joy to the World © Karen Appleton, reproduced by permission

"Ultimately my goal with composition is simple – do everything I can to reach out and pull the viewer into the painting. I want the painting to just be irresistible."

Interview with painter Karen Appleton, I

Melt © Karen Appleton, reproduced by permission

Karen Appleton, whose artwork you can find online at karenappleton.blogspot.com, paints gift-wrapped presents, and the profusion of color and exuberance found in ribbons and bows. We conversed by email as I prepared to write about her work, and she shared what she loves about painting, how she approaches a painting, and how she approaches composition.

"I love everything about painting," she writes. "I love the smell of the oils, the feel of a big blob of paint as it smears on the canvas, I love sketching out ideas, mixing piles of gorgeous color – everything.

"But I am crazy about observation, especially observing color. I am fascinated with how our brains perceive and interpret color, especially as it wraps around form. I enjoy playing close attention to the variety of colors that actually make up what we perceive as only one. Seeing how this variety of color breaks apart into abstract shapes, or pieces like a puzzle, and how they fit together to form the object is beautiful to me, and I really enjoy playing this up in my paintings."

You can see how this comes into play in her painting Melt, above, and in a detail below, with its profusion of ribbons.

detail, Melt © Karen Appleton, reproduced by permission

"I also enjoy working from life – it is a very important part of my process. It requires me to slow down and focus all attention on observing an object in an environment that slightly changes throughout the day. So a painting becomes a selection of the most beautiful colors as they change from day to night, and day by day. I'm not capturing a moment in time, but many moments in time, which is exciting to me."

Here you can see how Karen Appleton arranges a still life setup, with the composition of a new painting drawn out in charcoal on the canvas beside it.

Asked about her approach to her subject matter, she wrote, " A painting always starts with an idea of feeling. Usually an idea is inspired by an experience – a jog in the snow, a crowded train, signs of spring, etc. I automatically think of these experiences in terms of color, shape, and texture. Snow might be a heavy white velvet ribbon, ice might be a shiny silver stick-on bow. With the ribbons and bows I recreate the visual experience, but I'm also attempting to describe how that visual experience felt."

Icicles © Karen Appleton, reproduced by permission

"I find that an object's shape or positioning in a composition can be very helpful in expressing a feeling. Any object can be expressive, but for me, ribbons can be shaped or arranged to reach up or out to the viewer; they can flop over, feel heavy, droop, bend, or bounce; they can pile on top of each other; they can almost touch, or completely intertwine together.

"I also adore the entire process of actually creating the image I'm going to paint. I chose the colors and shapes that will contribute to the feeling of the painting. It's almost like building a little stage, picking the actors, deciding costumes and lighting, and writing the script."

Carol Marine painting demonstration

Daily painter Carol Marine creates a small still life painting, of a bell pepper, in the instruction video Carol Marine Daily Painting Demo. She paints on a canvas with a yellow underpainting, and begins by making marks indicating the outer edges of the pepper and its shadow. Next, she draws in the shapes of her composition. Nice use of the negative space, isn't it?

Once her composition is laid out, she begins blocking in the big shapes of her painting, both in the positive and negative space.

She paints quickly (she's had a lot of practice). Notice how she uses her brush strokes in the negative space to help define the positive shapes?

Notice how she moves from larger shapes to smaller ones as she develops the painting? The lovely details of highlights and small shadows on the pepper and its stem work well, because the structure of the composition underneath it works.

You can see more of her artwork online at bluecloudstudios.com, and you can read her blog at carolmarine.blogspot.com.

Negative space - it's not just background

The phrase "negative space" doesn't mean what you might think. If you're painting an apple, and someone talks about the apple's negative space, it does not actually mean that the apple's emotional state is dire. In art, negative space refers to the space around the apple.

People, animals, objects – all occupy space. We have form, shape, and weight. When you put images of us into two dimensions, we are positive space. So the apple is positive space – or a positive shape. The space around it is negative space (or negative shape).

Another word for positive space is "figure." The apple, in a painting of it, is the figure.

The negative space – the space around the apple – is also called the ground. If it's the ground in front, it's the foreground; if it's the ground in back, it's the background. Makes sense, right?

But the word background implies it's not important. It also implies that you paint it first, and then slap that apple right on top of it. If you do that, you'll have a painting of an apple slapped on top of a background. Bor-ing....

The thing to remember is that the positive and negative space are equally important in making the composition work. The negative shapes need to be interesting – not an afterthought. It's kind of like music – the notes wouldn't work without the silences between them.

Jerry Fresia's Painting Class Video

Painter Jerry Fresia, who moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to a wonderful castle on Italy's Lake Como, demonstrates his painting process in the YouTube video A Painting Class on Lake Como, Italy. It's a great time-lapse glimpse of how a painting is constructed.

He begins by sketching his composition in charcoal on the canvas, then rubs it out, and paints in the basic composition. Notice how the composition is clearly indicated, but that he does not need to draw specific detail. This stage is all about making a beautiful structure upon which everything else will depend.

He follows with an underpainting (he is painting in oils). Notice the gorgeous colors he is mixing, and the subtlety of shadowed areas that will influence what comes on top of it.

After painting some of the lines in again, he comes back in with color, and brings the painting to completion. This is the point at which he gets more specific about colors and smaller details – not before. As you watch the video, notice his brushwork, too, and how each brushstroke is created by the movement of his whole arm.

Be sure to listen to his explanation of his painting process as you watch the video – he teaches clearly and well.

You can find all of Jerry Fresia's videos by going to www.YouTube.com and typing in his user name, FresiaStudios. He teaches workshops at his beautiful studio – and you can learn more about his paintings, his studio, and his workshops at www.fresia.com.

Georgia O'Keeffe's Pears

Here is a simple painting of two pears by American painter Georgia O'Keeffe (1887 - 1986). Although it's not the kind of image we usually associate with her – the close-up paintings of flowers, or images of cow skulls or Southwestern landscapes – it has the same kind of simplicity and monumental feeling as her more familiar work.

Notice how she uses multiple shadows as compositional elements? They ground the pears in the white space, and they help relate the pears to the edges of the white cloth (I assume it's a cloth resting on a table). Without them, those wonderfully solid, modeled pears would float in the white space.

Notice how the cloth's edges are tilted, giving the painting a dynamic feeling? O'Keeffe uses this to create strong and interesting negative spaces. There is still no doubt that those lovely pears are the focal point of the painting. Why? It's partly because the shadows lessen the contrast between the edge of the cloth and the dark table beneath it; partly because she has lightened the shadow around the pear stems, creating greater contrast between them and the white of the cloth; and partly because the shapes of the pear tops and stems are so interesting.

You can see more of Georgia O'Keeffe's work, and read about her life and her homes at www.okeeffemuseum.org.

Thumbnail sketches continued...

Thumbnail sketches of apple ©2009 Karen Lynn Ingalls

Here is another set of thumbnail sketches from a demonstration in class. Notice how they are simple and loose? Because of the small size, it is easy to play with different compositions. You can try both vertical and horizontal formats, and play with different perspectives and placements. Each one only takes a couple of minutes.


First stages of blocking in the composition, demonstration painting, ©2009 Karen Lynn Ingalls

This time I chose the first sketch, on the top left. I made a few changes in my composition (you may see the original lines of the table below the current ones). When I turned my composition upside down and stepped back, I realized it needed changes that I hadn't spotted when it was right-side up. I didn't want the edge of the table to touch the bottom of the painting. Notice how the negative spaces are more interesting in the painting than in the original sketch?

When you're working with your original composition, see where the light and shadow are falling. Light and dark can become interesting elements in your composition.

Do not worry about details at this point! You are blocking in the big shapes of your composition; this stage of the painting is all about establishing your composition.

Beginning a painting

Thumbnail sketches give you a great way to work out different compositional ideas, quickly and in miniature. They allow you to spot compositional weaknesses, and work out patterns of light and dark, all before you ever begin the painting in earnest.

Here are three thumbnail sketches of a pear I drew as part of a class demonstration in the last couple of weeks. (Please pardon the images showing through from the handout on the reverse.... See? You don't even have to use nice paper for these. They're quick and easy.) Looking at the three, I decided I preferred the composition on the top right. I worked out the lights and darks. Then I was ready to turn to my painting.

When you begin your painting, remember that you can't get to the end when you're only just beginning. Often students are tempted to focus on some lovely detail in some small part of the painting - like the lighting and surface details on that juicy pear - instead of working all over the whole surface. It's going to look sketchy at first - that's okay! That is actually a very good thing!


The important thing is to get your composition worked out and make sure you like it. Turn it upside down. Is it balanced? Are the negative spaces interesting?

Then, after you've made any changes to the initial composition, block in big shapes of color. Don't leave white spaces! (I know this is hard for watercolorists.) If you leave a space white, that white will assume more and more importance as the painting progresses - and you will become more and more nervous about what to do there. Be kind to yourself - you can avoid a whole lot of stress by just putting color there. Don't worry. You'll change it later anyhow. Trust me.

Blocking in the composition of a painting

Every painting begins by blocking in the composition. There may be as many variations of how to do this as there are painters, but we still share the basics.

In class, we talked about drawing in the lines of the composition, either with paint, or water-soluble fabric pencils or fabric markers (whose lines will dissolve when we come along with water and acrylic paint). Then you begin blocking in the big shapes of your painting. It's all very rough at this stage - you don't want to even think about the details yet.

Painter Jerry Fresia, originally from San Francisco but now living in Lake Como, Italy, has posted a great example of how to block in a painting in "A Painting Class on Lake Como, Italy." While he is painting in oils rather than acrylics, and begins drawing his composition with charcoal initially (vine charcoal is often used by oil painters for this), his process is basically the same one I demonstrate in class.

Notice how he also chooses to scumble in his colors initially (not as necessary for acrylic painters as oil painters) and how he works from darks to lights. He breaks down his painting process into different stages of development that are helpful to see. And while you're watching, enjoy the views of Lake Como and the beautiful castle he lives in!

Thumbnail Sketches

In class, I've been talking about and demonstrating the usefulness of thumbnail sketches. They allow you to quickly work out different compositions before diving in to your painting. Often the first, most obvious ideas may not be the most interesting compositions - and drawing a series of thumbnail sketches allows you to make that discovery before you even begin your painting.

YouTube is a great resource for learning about art - you can watch demonstrations of paintings in progress and instructional videos created by artists for other artists. Here are a couple of videos where you can watch thumbnail sketches being created:

"Thumbnail Sketches," a video posted by AnnelieArt, is a 48-second example of playing around with lines and moving different compositional elements, just to see what you come up with.

"How to make a thumbnail sketch for an oil painting" is a minute-and-a-half long demo from Expertvillage of creating a values sketch (values refers to light and dark).

Both are quick, good reminders of the possibilities thumbnail sketches allow us to see.