Asking a respected peer for an opinion is good, but sometimes
we’re stuck fixing our problems without help. That’s where knowing how to self-critique
comes in.
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Tom Sawyer's Fence, by Carol L. Douglas, oil on canvasboard. |
Yesterday I got a text message from a peer that read, “Working
on a commission and can’t figure out how to finish it.” She went on to add, “That
last 20% of the painting is always the hardest part for me. I can tell something
is wrong but finding it and fixing it is the challenge.”
From my perspective, it was easy enough to see that the background
needed to be toned down so that the focus could ring. That’s because I wasn’t
wrapped up in its creation.
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Downdraft Snow by Carol L. Douglas is on exhibition at the Joseph A. Fiore Art Center this summer. |
I had a similar experience at Castine. I couldn’t get the
contrast to work between the water and a roofline. Kari Ganoung
Ruiz suggested I add a shingle edge. That single brushstroke changed
everything. Similarly, Kirk McBride
asked for an opinion from his wife, who’s also an artist. Her suggestion made
his painting more coherent.
Painting, however, isn’t always a game of Who Wants to be
a Millionaire. Sometimes, we’re stuck answering the question without a
Lifeline. One of the best ways to do this is to subject your own work to formal
analysis.
That means you ask yourself how each of the five
basic elements of painting design are working. That doesn’t mean you have
to write a dissertation. It means you consider your painting in terms of each
of these design elements. Are you using line, shape, space, color and texture
to guide the viewer through the space you’ve created? Have you emphasized
important passages and subordinated others? Is there repetition, pattern and
rhythm in the piece?
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Marshall Point Rock Study, by Carol L. Douglas |
A painting that doesn’t work almost always fails in several
of these areas. You are as qualified as anyone to analyze your paintings based
on these objective standards. There’s a great advantage in learning to do this:
you will never be led astray be a stupid critique again, and you can help
yourself fix what’s wrong.
I like to consider my own paintings first on the questions
of motive, line, and value. I’m looking for a strong impulse—created by dark
shapes—that pulls the viewer through the painting. I’m not relying on chance to
create a focal point; I want to drive the viewer there at warp speed.
Good group critiques teach us to look at our own work
dispassionately and objectively, rather than possessively and emotionally. For
those of us who’ve experienced the nasty criticism of art classes, it can take
a lot to unbend from the defensive posture. That’s why I practice positive
critiquing.
Ottawa House, by Carol L. Douglas |
Positive reaction, done right, is harder than negative
criticism. You need to catch a person doing something right before you can
comment. That means constant vigilance and a rock-solid understanding of process.
It requires being able to differentiate between idiosyncrasy, style, and the
real technical issues that can cause a painting to fail. Above all, it requires
confidence. Nobody is supportive from a position of weakness.
I demonstrated this technique to my friends in the Knox County Art Society
this week and realized I’ve never blogged about how to do it. Look for it.
Meanwhile, I have two new opportunities for you: a Tuesday class from my Rockport
studio, starting on August 20, and a second watercolor
workshop aboard American Eagle, September 25-29. I’d love to see you there!
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