Thursday, February 23, 2012

Brava, Esther!

If you've been wondering where I've been, you might have missed the entry about our computer woes.  We have the computer back, but we do need to buy a new one.  Since it is working, after a fashion, I'll write my entries on our aging machine until we purchase the new one.  I warn you, this means that I won't be able to post any photos.  This old guy doesn't want to fuss with that any more.  Indeed, it doesn't want to make any noise, either.  Imagine a computer without the start up chirps, the dings, and bings, and dongs as you navigate the Internet, or without the noises associated with whatever games you play.  It's really unsettling at first, but after a surprisingly short time, it's quite refreshing.

If you've been reading my entries, you know about one of my brothers and his wife Esther. Est has been mentioned quite a bit as she is a fellow artist (as is my brother Davis but try to get him to share his work - ha!), regular reader, and frequently (almost daily) commentator about something in an entry.  Est and I have been having e-mail discussions about my paintings, and she gives very helpful critiques and offers ideas for me to ponder.  Once she even sent me (after I asked for them) a few photos of some of her watercolors.

I should mention now, if I haven't before, watercolors intimidate me to the nth degree.  First of all, I have had a tendency towards photo-realism (paying close attention to all the little details and making each leaf on a tree perfect)in my artistic endeavors as well as a habit of thinking my way through a painting as I work on it over a span of time.  Watercolors don't allow you to do either.  The paint is mixed with water.  Water dries.  Quickly.  Oil paint, my medium of choice, is mixed with oil.  Oil dries . . . when it darn well wants to.  That means verrrrrrry s - l  -  o   -   w    -    l     -     y.  Lots of thinking time there.

Not so with watercolors.  You have to be loose and fluid in your movement.  What you intend to do with an idea has to be already in your mind.  Spontaneity is rewarded in the luminous work one can create.  Esther's work is full of light and suggestion.  You don't need or want to see every leaf on a tree; you see its skeleton as though you were seeing an x-ray.  Your mind accepts it and doesn't need all the minutiae.  I'm saying this badly, and it would be easier if I could show you her watercolors.

Because Esther has kicked my proverbial you-know-what when she thinks I need it (and I always do, darn it all), I took it upon myself to nudge her.  I mentioned that she gets to see my paintings from the moment the first splat of paint lands on the canvas through all the stages until they're finished, and when would I get to see some of hers?  She rose to the occasion and sent several.  Several near-paintings (not finished), some abandoned forays, and some completed works. 

I can't show them to you because I don't have her permission, and because, even if I did, my computer won't allow it, cranky little beastie that it is.

But . . . she has some trees in the first three pieces (all of the same subject but done in different colors/ways) that I wish I could have painted.  They are in a painting that she hasn't finished, but I hope she will return to.  Her shading and her suggestion of a birch tree and its lichens are grand.  I will tell you, Est, if you're reading this, that those first three slides are considerably more fabulous than your photo!

Anyway, I will write to her instead of telling you more since you can't see her work.  Maybe she will allow me to share with you some day.  It isn't easy as many of you know.  Putting something "out there" for others to critique (and not always kindly) is like telling someone you don't know your most intimate, deeply guarded secret.  But the helpful critiques and the compliments you receive in return is often well worth it and builds confidence. 

Esther has delighted me with her courage and her trust as she flung herself off the edge of the precipice.  Brava, Esther! 

1 comment:

  1. Well, Noel. Your comments just cement my opinion that there is not an unkind bone in your body. Yesterday I decided to take the "so-called" finished work in to Christine for criticism. She gave it in spades. All of it rightly deserved. My painting should flow more--not look like something that can be done in acrylics. Those trees in the photo are a knock out; my handling lacks luminosity (which I already knew). Water down the background; get rid of some of those hard edges. Darken the shadows. Add gray-blue to the shaded sides; yellow ochre to the sunny side. And so on. Her final words meant to be kind: "I know your ability. You can do better." I attempted some of her suggestions which helped (photo to follow later). But the fluidity of the composition could not be changed. I need to paint, paint, and paint some more. Hope to do more in California next month.

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