The term "negative painting" just sounds so, well, negative, doesn't it? But what else to call it? The basic idea is, you paint the lightest colors first, in kind of a wash, and then you paint in the medium tones, and then you paint in the darker elements around the lighter items, and then your background becomes the darkest element, to make everything else pop out.
I decided to try my hand today on a painting of the lemons still hanging from the lowest branches of my tree. I worked from a photo, which is fine; I did a pretty good drawing, and washed in the palest green and some tan for the background first, then came in with the yellow and darker greens, and finally mixed a dark brown from Sienna and Ultramarine for the background.
I think the problem with this painting is, I didn't realize (until I was done) the principle that makes negative paintings so beautiful: They are not realistic. In my photograph, the "mast" on the ground that served as the background was a combination of three or four browns because it was sun-dappled by the light falling through the tree. That's fine if you are going for realism, but in a negative painting it takes away from the effect.
To show what I mean, I'm going to refer you to the website of the master of negative painting, Brenda Swenson. Although her paintings are also vastly more skilled and nuanced than mine, what you're looking at is the backgrounds, which are all smooth to the point of looking air-brushed. The subjects have a hyper-realistic look while definitely being painterly as well, and that's where I missed the boat. I will have to try this again sometime with more regard for effect and less for "how it looks."
Also, I didn't mix the greens I used very well, with the result that there wasn't enough contrast with the background on the stems. And finally, I do NOT know how to get that effect of graduated wash that Brenda makes look so effortless in her backgrounds. (I need to take her negative painting workshop!) I called this painting "Low-hanging fruit" for two reasons, one literal and one not. More effort was definitely needed.
Here is my first/second stage:
And here is the completed painting:
#H pencil and Paul Jackson watercolor on Fluid 140-lb. paper.
09 May 2020
07 May 2020
Selfie in technicolor
I seem to be alternating between all-art and all-reading, so that for the past week I have been reading and blogging and now I'm pivoting back to art and blogging.
I decided to try yet another selfie, only this time using some nontraditional colors. I so admire people who make portraits into which they slap every color in the rainbow. I haven't quite achieved that yet, mostly because I have this compulsive need to blend that gets away with me and doesn't leave the nicely weird shapes and planes of colors that some of the artists I admire produce in their portraits. But...one step at a time.
Here is colorful selfie me, in light and shadow, with a bun on the back of my head and a slight attitude. I don't seem to know how to take a photo without attitude. It's either smile and look dim-witted, or look serious and come across as mean. I blame Dad, whose squinty close-together eyes I inherited, along with Mom's tiny down-turned mouth. So here I am, the product of heredity.
The angles are all just a little distorted because I worked flat on my table in front of the photo on my computer screen. I have to try to remember to elevate my sketchbook a bit at the back in future to make sure that doesn't happen.
Uniball pen and watercolor in Bee sketchbook
I decided to try yet another selfie, only this time using some nontraditional colors. I so admire people who make portraits into which they slap every color in the rainbow. I haven't quite achieved that yet, mostly because I have this compulsive need to blend that gets away with me and doesn't leave the nicely weird shapes and planes of colors that some of the artists I admire produce in their portraits. But...one step at a time.
Here is colorful selfie me, in light and shadow, with a bun on the back of my head and a slight attitude. I don't seem to know how to take a photo without attitude. It's either smile and look dim-witted, or look serious and come across as mean. I blame Dad, whose squinty close-together eyes I inherited, along with Mom's tiny down-turned mouth. So here I am, the product of heredity.
Uniball pen and watercolor in Bee sketchbook
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