The myth of mastery

“I’m still afflicted with the malady of research. I don’t like what I do, and I paint it out, and paint it out again. I hope that this mania will come to an end. . . I’m involved in lots of things and not one of them is finished. I wipe out, I start over, I think the year will go by without one canvas . . . I want to find what I am looking for before giving up. Let me look, I have gone too deeply into the series of experiments to give up without regret . . ."
Pierre-August Renoir      

Art is not an endgame. There are no goal posts. Art is a journey. The myth of mastery implies knowledge and craft with a beginning and an end. The idea of mastery places too much emphasis on craft and not enough emphasis on creativity and expression.

Art is nothing if not an exploration of life and living – how we think, how we feel and how we see. Art is not just what we see in front of us. It is not just the present, but a reflection of what came before and what is yet to come. A painting of a tree in winter bears witness to a season, but it is just as much a testament to the brilliant fall color that was, and the new life the coming spring will bring. Art is a reflection of the past and present and a promise for the future. It is what we have learned, what we can learn and the possibility of learning more.

Art is a reflection of life and life is not static. While we may want the world to be linear and absolute, it is, in fact, arbitrary and complex. Our need to order and categorize is more likely to be based on a desire for control than on a want to understand.
  
The image of a painting has to live and breathe. It needs to imply possibility, wonder and awe. It needs to foster reflection and self-reflection. Art is an inspiration, not just a career. There are no answers, only more solutions.

“If I know what I shall find, I do not want to find it.

 Uncertainty is the salt of life.”

 Erwin Chargaff, Heraclitean Fire

In order to better understand art as a journey, we need to acknowledge and understand the pattern of art throughout history. The history of art is a testament to change. This record of change is one of perception, not just change in technique and skill. The Greeks said that to marvel is the beginning of knowledge and where we cease to marvel we may be in danger of ceasing to know.

The great art historian Ernst Gombrich wrote extensively on the pattern of change in art through the centuries.He noted how the Egyptians did not render in three dimensions but instead relied on what they knew rather than what they saw. "Greek and Roman art breathed life into these schematic forms; medieval art used them in turn for telling the sacred story, Chinese art for contemplation. Neither was urging the artist to ‘paint what he saw’. This idea dawned only during the age of the Renaissance . . . but every generation discovered that there were still . . . strongholds of conventions which made artists apply forms they had learned rather than paint what they really saw. 

The Impressionists "proposed to make a clean sweep of all these conventions . . ." They challenged the rules of academic painting and claimed their paintings were more 'scientifically accurate.' As Gombrich pointed out, however, their claim was only partly true. He wrote, "We have come to realize more and more that we can never neatly separate what we see from what we know."

“In fact, as soon as we start to take a pencil and draw, the whole idea of surrendering passively to what is called our sense impressions becomes really an absurdity. If we look out of the window we can see the view in a thousand different ways. Which of them is our sense impression? "It is not the ‘innocent eye’. . . that can achieve this match but only the inquiring mind that knows how to probe the ambiguities of vision.” (Art and Illusion, E.H. Gombrich)

Good art is not done by how an artist sees,

 but by how an artist chooses to see.

If we lose the drive to question and explore, not just what we do, but how we do it, then we run the risk of becoming secondhand hacks only capable of copying someone else’s idea of art.

While skill and knowledge are important in any endeavor, the idea of mastery in art implies a skill set to be acquired and a path to be followed. For many this path becomes one of fidelity to the latest vagaries of the art market and the most popular trend in art. The parameters of acceptability narrow and the range of expression becomes limited. Too many artists get lured into the idea of picture-making and neglect the search for creativity and expression. When we choose the path of conformity and ignore our personal search for visual meaning, we negate the very idea of what art is and what art can be.

I am reminded of the struggles of so many artists who worked long and hard, not to master a skill set, but in a  personal search for visual expression.

Claude Monet wrote, “I’m hard at it, working stubbornly on a series of different effects (grain stacks), but at this time of year the sun sets so fast that it’s impossible to keep up with it… I’m getting so slow at my work it makes me despair, but the further I get, the more I see that a lot of work has to be done in order to render what I’m looking for: ‘instaneity’, the ‘envelope’, above all, the same light spread over everything, and more than ever I’m disgusted by easy things that come in one go.”  

Claude Monet 

Lunch with the Mad Hatter

A friend and fellow artist (who will remain anonymous for obvious reasons) agreed to let me share the following texts about a particularly challenging painting commission. The insights, observations and comments turned this misadventure into a hilarious ride through the dark side of portrait painting. And for the record, no, I do not paint commissions. See postscript for why not.

Monday, March 14

Well, here’s how my lady painting turned out. Most of the family members are happy. I think it could be better/looser/more interesting, but I have no idea how to balance that with the family’s wishes. Not even sure where I could take it at this point, so, I’m done. The Grand Dame of the family has not weighed in. I don’t really care though.

Now I’m going to go read “The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.”

Tuesday, March 15

Well, woke up to a list of things that the Grand Dame of the family wants me to change in the painting. Wider neck, add more wrinkles . . . (seriously??) . . .  lower the eyebrows . . . They are actually higher and even more arched, but I just eliminated them a bit and left the rest to the imagination. Sigh. I worked on it all day because one daughter has driven over from out of state and I’ve got a command invitation to the home of the person in the painting tomorrow. Not that the daughter loves the work, but she wants me to watch her and get a good understanding of her facial expressions. Shit, I don’t have time for this. This is a good likeness. Her children, siblings, nieces, nephews, grandchildren and friends far and wide saw the painting on FB, with no indication of who it was, everyone recognized her instantly.

To top it off, when the daughter called to tell me to be at the lady’s home at 2 p.m. it was like an inquisition. “What does your husband do? Where did you grow up” What did your father do?” I wondered if she was going to tell me to bring my tax returns for the last 10 years. I was a bit evasive . . . none of that is her damned business. Sheesh.

I give up. Someone hand me a white flag to wave! I can’t get any closer to a likeness unless I add more harsh lines and shadows.

So I’m hoping tomorrow is better. But tomorrow I must attend the inquisition, so . . . who knows how that will be. I think the old gal and I are both being yanked around by a bunch of surly siblings. I’ll try to be kind, for the sake of the older lady, but I may not stay long. As I understand it, the old gal is in a tizzy that I’m coming over. Insists on having her hair done, but is concerned that her pin curls will be wound too tight. I think it’s her offspring that are wound too tight!

Wednesday, March 16 – 10:14 a.m.

They want me to paint 10 more “just like it” for the children and grandchildren.

Now they want me to leave the wet painting at a family member’s house so the extended family, kids and grandkids can see it. It told them it has cadmium in it . . . so that’s a no.

Word to the wise: Never do commissions!!

2:13 p.m.

Inquisition over. Now just need to paint new nose, eyes, mouth. Daughter wants the features to be momma’s as they were when the daughter was little. Daughter also said, “We all just love that photo we gave you to paint from, except we think she looks tired so her face isn’t animated” My challenge is to paint the momma as her many offspring imagine her. The mother, subject of painting, was an absolute delight. Loved her!

9:58 p.m.

Sooooooo, I just got a message from the daughter. She has sent me a bunch of photos and wants me to paint the right eye from one photo, the left eye from another photo, the nose from yet another one AND wants me to put the mouth together with the bits and pieces of several mouths in several photos. All of the photos are taken in different lighting, from different angles and from different decades. I have done my best, with PLENTY of words in my sentences, to explain that it isn’t possible to arrive at one cohesive facial expression this way. H.O.L.Y. C.O.W. this gal is nuts. It is absolutely comical at this point.

My husband wins the prize for the best remark! “SEND HER A PAINTING OF MRS. POTATO HEAD!!!” he said as he rolled on freaking floor laughing.

Now, more wine. I deserve it.

Thursday, March 17

Other than a lot of “fraudulent” stuff on the painting, and the fact that it is so stinking over-rendered, I’m having a hard time figuring out how to bring the likeness to what they want. They want something that doesn’t look like her – they each want their romanticized notion of the never-aging mother . . . but an image that they recognize as “just like” what each sees in the photo. Yet none of them see the same thing.

I must have fallen down the rabbit hole. Preparing for lunch with the Mad Hatter.

She finally sent me a thumbs up and a smiley face. Maybe the odyssey has ended. Maybe it’s tea time for Alice.

Saturday, March 19

BTW, the people I’m doing this painting for want all the brothers, sisters and spouses to have an appointment to “preview and critique”. Shoot me now.

Finished. They can have it or not, but I’m moving on to more interesting work.

Sunday, March 20

Interesting. I’m getting FB friend requests from ALL of the extended family members of the “portrait lady’. Feeling creeped upon! I think they are wanting to the see the painting and my FB page isn’t public - only friends can see it.

Monday, March 21

Well, this morning I got an email from the family. They are thinking that they would rather have the charcoal drawing that I did earlier. When they first saw it, they hated it because it had been drawn from a photo that no one liked. Now that they are not crazy about the painting, they have come to like the drawing. I know it is just because they’ve kind of camped with that image for a while and are accustomed to it.  It’s on newsprint and I’m worried it won’t hold up.

Sheesh . . . family just sent another photo reference. I am so done.

Monday, April 5

I heard from the Grand Dame and the Brassy Little Sister. They think they “might” like the painting if I repaint the face in different shades and put the mouth back like I had it in the first place. (This makes me want to choose really novel different shades, just sayin’.)

There are so many layers on that painting that it begs to be considered sculpture at this point. Really . . . the burn pile might be the best answer. I could start over . . . but I won’t. Maybe I died and this is purgatory.

Postscript: The family finally decided they loved, loved the painting and purchased both the painting and the drawing. This was definitely a win for persistence and endurance on the artist’s part.

The reason I don’t paint commissions: The answer is fairly straight-forward and also explains one of the main differences between fine art and illustration.  Painting commissions (and illustrations) are controlled by someone else’s expectations and requirements – not the artist’s. I have a hard enough time trying to avoid regurgitating someone else’ idea of what a painting is or should be. I do, however, respect and admire those artists who take on the challenge.

Color: fact, fiction and perception

John Singer Sargent painting using cooler light and warmer shadow.

Richard Schmid, in his book “Alla Prima”, described colors as “slippery devils with a logic all their own.”  He also warned us to be “wary of quaint beliefs, fears and expedient little rules.”
  
There is so much information and misinformation regarding color in painting, it’s difficult to decide what is important and what is not, but let’s give it a try.

First, to see color we need light. Light is a physical entity. Color is a perception. 

Seeing color is a response created by the brain interpreting light waves that hit our eyes. Our eyes have three types of cones, often referred to as red, green and blue. A more accurate description describes the cones’ responses to the wavelengths of light – short, medium and long wavelengths.

Here is an illustration of the wavelengths of visible light. Red has the longest wavelength and violet has the shortest wavelength. Note: This is NOT a scale of color temperature. Do not confuse wavelength with color temperature. We can, however, recognize how one color can turn into another by the change in wavelength. This is important.

The cones in our eyes are used to process color and luminosity during daylight conditions. Rods are used only in low light conditions. When it is dark we don’t actually see color since the cones are not active in low-light conditions. The exception is at the intersection of light and dark (e.g. dusk) when rods and cones can be active at the same time. At this brief time we see colors differently than during daylight. We do not see different colors but what we do see seems to be more saturated. This difference in color perception is probably because of a change in luminosity due to the activation of the rods.

Our inclination to associate some colors as warmer or cooler than other colors is not a scientific explanation of temperature. 

The distinction between warmer and cooler colors is based on a perceptual and psychological tendency to associate heat with warmth. We consider red, yellow and orange to be warmer than green, blue and violet. Color temperature is not an absolute value, as in warm or cool. It is a comparative value  of warmer or cooler (as compared to). So if you want to know if a red is warmer or cooler, to which red are you referring, and exactly what are you comparing it to? Alizarin is cooler than cadmium red, but it is warmer than ultramarine blue.

If you are looking for the science of color temperature, you will end up in a rabbit hole of contradictions. The Kelvin scale (used to measure the temperature of color based on black-body radiation) shows red to be the coolest color and blue to be the hottest color. Kelvins are, however, useful in astronomy, photography and studio lighting. This leads me to the next bit of interesting information . . .

The sun is not yellow. Actually our sun is white light, a mixture of all colors.

drawing from The Secret Language of Color

When the sun is low in the sky, it may appear yellow, orange, or red. But that is only because its short-wavelength colors (green, blue, violet) are scattered out by the Earth's atmosphere and only the reds, yellows, and oranges get to our eyes. The reason I mention this is the pervasive belief among some artists that yellow is the "warmest" color. The most obvious reason for this is our perception of the sun as yellow. Now, granted, this is a perception, and painting is all about perceptions, but the problem with this assumption leads to another rabbit hole of contradictions regarding the color temperatures of greens, blues and violets.

The pattern of color we see is red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet. One color becomes another. We perceive color as a continuous spectrum, not as something with a beginning and an end (implying opposition), but as part of a whole. It is misleading to assign absolute values to these colors that exist in harmony with one another. When mixing color I consider red warmer than yellow and consequently, ultramarine blue as warmer than cerulean or thalo blue. In turn, green would be warmer than cerulean, but cooler than yellow. Following this pattern allows a pretty straight forward approach to mixing pigments - lighter, darker, warmer, cooler. One color will easily transition to another. It is not difficult to see the pattern of connection.   Ultimately, this is all about recognizing patterns and making comparisons. Color temperature is not an intrinsic property of pigment. It is the perception of one color as compared to another.

Color does not jump around randomly. Light determines our perception of color. Warmer light has cooler shadows. Cooler light has warmer shadows. The color we see changes as the light changes. Our perception of color can change according to what is next to or surrounding the color. Color can be elusive, ambiguous and sometimes bold. Find the pattern, design the connections, and pay attention to the subtlety of change.

Painting by Joaquin Sorolla - note the difference in color from one side of bench to other side.

for more information about our sun
The Yellow Sun Paradox by Stephen R. Wilk

A win for visual truth

In my last post, “Do facts matter or is truth just another possibility?”, I pointed out how clinging to an outdated color primary system isn’t doing us any favors. I also wrote about the inaccuracy of the world map we are most familiar with. The latest news on the technology and design front is a new design of a more accurate map. Here is the article from WIRED magazine.


This Weird Globe-Folding Map Isn’t Perfect, But It’s Close
by Liz Stinson, WIRED, November 4, 206
https://www.wired.com/2016/11/weird-globe-folding-map-isnt-perfect-close/

Creating a proportional map of the world is tricky because the world is a sphere and a map is flat. That creates visual distortions, which explains why Mercator projections shrink Africa and super-size Greenland. Designer Hajime Narukawa found a clever solution to this problem: triangles.

Narukawa’s AuthaGraph World Map, which recently won the grand prize in Japan’s biggest design competition, retains the proportions of the continents and oceans—so much so that you can fold it into a three-dimensional globe. Like magic! He achieved this by dividing the globe into 96 triangles and projecting them onto a tetrahedron, preserving the proportions of water and land. Then he unfolded the tetrahedron into a rectangle, where the 96 sections created a map resembling the surface of the original globe, only flat.


The general shapes of the continents are consistent with more familiar maps, but their orientation is not. On the AuthaGraph Map, continents curve upward like a smile. Africa and the Americas look like they swapped places. And longitude and latitude are no longer a tidy grid. But  all maps require tradeoffs. You want an equal area map? Prepare for distortion. You want a Mercator? You’re living a lie. The AuthaGraph isn’t perfect—the creators concede that it needs “a further step to increase a number of subdivision for improving its accuracy to be officially called an area-equal map” the project creators write on their website—but it’s pretty damn close.


For more information about how this map was created, click here.

Do facts matter or is truth just another possibility?

When we are faced with information that contradicts what we think we know, is there value in trying to understand the new information? Or is truth really based on some kind of sliding scale of perception? Why do we accept dogma for truth? Why work so hard to hold onto information that compromises our ability to change and move forward?

Red, yellow and blue are considered primary colors in the art world. This primary system of red, yellow and blue predates modern scientific color theory. Yet it persists in painting color theory today. This is what most artists learn and it is what children around the world are taught in art classes.These three primaries do not correspond to the subtractive primaries dictated by human color vision.

The more accurate and more scientific color primary system for subtractive color is magenta, cyan and yellow. (Pigment is subtractive color. This is the process of subtracting color as the light waves are absorbed and reflected off the surface of the pigment.) Subtractive color is also used in printing and photography. Just take a quick look at the ink cartridges in your desktop printer.

The primary colors for additive color, anything using light such as computer monitors and televisions, are red, green and blue. So we have two scientific primary color systems, additive and subtractive, and then we have the “painting” color primary system. Artists are still clinging to an outdated model of a color primary system.

Does using an outdated primary system make a difference? It is difficult to mix colorful greens, cyans, purples and magentas using these three colors, but most artists use multiple colors on their palettes. Unlike photography and printing, we have the ability to use variations of reds, yellows and blues. And even a simplified palette can be incredibly powerful. Just take another look at some Zorn paintings where he used black, vermillion, ochre and white. However, it is quite possible our critical thinking (or mixing) skills are compromised when we cling to a primary system that predates current scientific color theory.

Is our dependence on cadmium red a result of red, yellow, blue thinking? While cadmium red (or similar variation) is useful, it is not nearly as useful for mixing as a red that leans more towards magenta, such as alizarin or quinacridone.  Think about the possibilities of alizarin, mixed with a blue such as cyan, or alizarin mixed with yellow. Now consider what happens when cadmium red is substituted for alizarin.

Artists are dealing with the perception and psychology of color. Our job is to interpret, not to try and replicate, which is an impossible task. Light is the science of additive color; pigment is the science of subtractive color. Light is a physical entity; seeing color is a perception. Let’s not make this any more confusing than it already is.

Why the world map you know is wrong

In yet another example of inaccurate and misleading information, we are still using a world map created in 1596. The original map was made by a globe maker named Mercator to help sailors navigate the world, and its distortions and exaggerations are the result of the difficulty inherent in portraying a spherical world on a flat map. Imagine stretching a map on a globe to fit a rectangular space. Despite attempts at other projections, the Mercator map has maintained its dominance over centuries and is now used at Google Maps and Bing. We think Greenland is huge, but in reality it is about four times smaller than the United States and 14.5 times smaller than Africa. In fact, Greenland is about the size of Saudi Arabia. Africa is actually larger than Russia and Brazil is more than five times larger than Alaska.

Want to learn more? Check out the app The True Size Of.


And while we are at it - no, the moon is not huge when on the horizon. It did not zoom in for a visit. It is an illusion. Other perceptual observations such as perceived distance and the size of nearby objects are used by the brain to determine what size an object appears to be.

Also, your mirror image is not life-sized. This, too, is a perception and not reality. Just measure next time you are looking a mirror. The explanation for this one? We see what we know and what we expect to see.

Intuition is just another form of pattern recognition

Intuition is not some mystical sixth sense, nor is it the opposite of rational thinking. Intuition is pattern recognition outside the normal range of conscious thought.

Different areas of the brain process different information. Since we are a language dependent species, we have a tendency to favor language based, rational thought and relegate intuition to the hinterlands of unexplained phenomena. Neuroscience seems to be having a difficult time understanding how the brain integrates information, but the fact is that various areas of the brain process different kinds of information, sensory and otherwise, and all that information gets filtered into conscious awareness – emphasis on the word “filtered”.

In painting, if we fall into the expected path of language-based object recognition, the path of least resistance will be one of fidelity to object description and not to interpretation. Our rational brains will dictate our responses while our subconscious intuitive selves will be sidelined. Painting is difficult because, ideally, it combines craft and creativity, two very different ways of thinking.

In order to foster a different path of pattern recognition, it’s necessary to describe the information in a new way.

Do you see a still life or do you see bananas, an apple and an orange?

How you choose to describe the information will alter how you perceive the information and, in turn, direct the choices you make to interpret that information.

Choose the object names and you will see and describe individual things and then have to solve the problem of unity and how one “thing” relates to another.  Choose the less specific description of “still life” and you will change your perceptions and your expectations. The “whole” will become more important than the pieces and the visual elements of value, color and shape will become more important than the name of the thing. Finding new patterns is dependent on seeing the information in a different way, one that is informed by more than preconceived expectations.

Carl Jung, the founder of analytical psychology, considered intuition an “irrational function”, but he also said “intuition is perception via the unconscious that brings forth ideas, images, new possibilities and ways out of blocked situations." It is interesting to note Jung was willing to consider intuition as irrational, while also recognizing the necessity of intuition in creative problem solving.

We seem to have an innate tendency (perhaps a reflection of brain organization?) to categorize everything into simplistic categories of “either-or” instead of simply acknowledging and accepting the unity of different, but complementary, aspects of reality. Intuition is not the opposite of rational, conscious thinking. It is an important and very real part of the brain’s ability to process information.

Where's all the art and other interesting stuff

Where’s the art?

Probably in storage in some museum somewhere. Quartz, a digital business news publication, surveyed 20 museums in 7 countries. While their survey was limited to the works of only 13 major artists, there is certainly enough information to draw some conclusions. Only a tiny fraction of art is actually available for people to view and enjoy. Much of the available work for viewing is purchased art, rather than donated art. And, of course, certain artists are better represented than others.

Cezanne and Monet were well represented, while Egon Schiele did not have a single work on display despite 7 different museums holding a total of 53 of his figurative works. Washington, DC’s National Gallery of Art has 199 Rothko paintings in storage and only two are on display.

Since most museums consider archiving, storage, and conservation to be their primary purpose, it seems as if the public’s access to art is far down on the list of importance. One can only wonder how long these museums can keep stacking up the work. And exactly who is all this art being archived for?



Do people who grow up in the arctic see better in the dark? 

C. Anderson

Leave it to a cognitive neurophsychology specialist to try and find out. In 2007 Bruno Laeng divided about 250 students from the Arctic University of Norway into two groups: those born above the Arctic Circle and those born below it. Both groups took a test measuring color discrimination. People who live north of the Arctic Circle experience two months each year with no direct sunlight. The only natural illumination during the dark winters is twilight, which tends to have a bluish color.

Those people born above the Arctic Circle made more mistakes arranging the yellow-green and green tabs, but fewer mistakes arranging the bluish ones.

And in yet another study  Ohio State University psychologist Angela Brown looked through dictionaries for more than 450 languages and found that the closer people lived to the poles, the more their languages distinguished between blues.



Nature’s fractal patterns

Marcia Bjornerud wrote an excellent article for The New Yorker, “David Maisel’s Geometric Geographies” about  Maisel’s aerial photographs of Toledo, Spain,

“Classical geometry—Greek for “earth measure”—is not very earthly. We love the serene, eternal, incorruptible form of the circle, and the illusion of mastery that being able to reckon with it mathematically gives us, but the shape itself is rare in the natural world. . . Given enough time, nature prefers other, quieter motifs. Consider the dendritic geometry of a river system. Each tributary stream is fed by creeks, which are fed, in turn, by rivulets of progressively smaller size. Try to determine the system’s total length and a paradox emerges: the closer you look, and the smaller your measuring stick gets, the longer the river becomes. Each level in the hierarchy encloses a smaller but equally complex microcosm. No single scale is more important than any other. Such unruly geometries, which are known as fractals, are obvious and ubiquitous in nature—in weather patterns, mountain ranges, ecosystems . . .

"Architects and urban planners are, on the whole, still acolytes of Euclid. It is rare that a human system develops into a fractal; most become top-heavy, with a few outsize elements dominating form and function. But look closely at Maisel’s images of Vicálvaro and you can see nature reasserting itself, the wind and rain forming notches and rills around the edges of the simple rectangular blocks.”



How Real is Reality?

A while back I wrote an article titled “The Problem with the Real in Realism”. I was trying to address the issues of visual perception, learned symbolism, and the impact of language on how and what we “see”.  So, of course, I was drawn to this article by Adam Frank “How Real Is Reality?” on NPR.

 Frank’s article details the convergence of the brain-frying science of quantum mechanics and its intersection with philosophy. While the scientists are left scrambling to explain quantum weirdness, we can question the possible fractal pattern in the micro and macro worlds of reality. The Copenhagen interpretation posits that electrons don’t have intrinsic properties like position or spin. It is only the act of measurement (observation) that makes the electrons take on specific values.

Frank wrote, “Is there something out there independent of us that has specific properties in-and-of-it? Or is it all a mush of potential and possibility about which only our knowledge takes on a stable form?

"The fundamental question remains. How real is reality?”



Museums are keeping a ton of the world's most famous art locked away
Do people who grow up in the Arctic see better in the dark
David Maisel's geometric geographies
How real is reality
The problem with the real in realism

Color constancy and why some of the science is wrong

I am definitely not going to disagree with the science of color constancy, which dictates that the perceived color of an object remains constant despite changes in light. I am disturbed, however, by the insistence of some neuroscientists that color constancy and the way the brain simplifies color information cannot, under any circumstances, be disregarded or compromised.  Obviously, in their quest for fundamental rules, they are overlooking the possibility of variables in the science of vision. They are discounting the possibility that some people, especially artists, can learn to evaluate the color of the illuminant or light source and in turn learn to evaluate color more accurately.

Color constancy is a feature of color perception which ensures that the color of an object will remain relatively constant under varying illumination. Color constancy explains why the grass in your front yard looks green under blue sky, remains green under a cloudy sky, and still looks green during a red sunset. A yellow banana will always look yellow, despite any change in the light which illuminates it, and a red apple will always look red. Without the brain’s ability to discount varying light conditions, acquiring color information about objects would be difficult. Without this ability to stabilize visual information, the world would be a very confusing place.

The subjective nature of color constancy accounts for the fact that beginning artists often have a hard time seeing color. Shadows will simply look gray, and the yellow banana will be the same color yellow from one end to the other. Beginning artists are not likely to see variation in any local color or be able to adapt to changing light conditions. The idea of cooler north light vs. using a warmer studio light would be confusing. However, the ability to decipher variations in illuminants and to perceive the ensuing changes in the color of objects and the color of shadows can be learned. Most art teachers are going to know this, and so will many painters. At some point, with persistence and practice, we learn to see differently.

Can we learn to totally discount color constancy? Probably not. But we can and do learn to work with it, and in many cases we can learn to see beyond the visual system’s preference for predictable color.

We need to understand that color information relayed to the brain is dependent on the evaluation and comparison of the range of wavelengths of light reflected by different objects in the visual scene. This process allows the brain to estimate and dismiss the influence of the light source and assign a constant color to an object or surface. Color constancy is one of the many “programs” running in the background of our visual system.

The Fisherman by Joaquin Sorolla

So, how do you work around this preference for consistent color? Compare, compare, and compare. Ideally, one should evaluate the quality of the illuminant first. Is the light warmer or cooler? Compare a lit area to a shadow and decipher the difference in color temperature. Next, identify the value range. Find the lightest light in the area where you are looking, and then compare to the darkest dark. Try and grasp the relationship of the two by making a mental comparison to a value scale. Is the lightest area close to white? Or a step or two away from white? Do the same with the darkest value, comparing it to black. This is the beginning of using a different form of visual processing. View the scene as a whole, and then pick out the most obvious differences in the pieces of information contained in the whole.

Now do the same with the colors you are seeing. Look for the “warmest” color notes, those more closely aligned with red, orange and yellow, and then compare with the “coolest” information, blues, greens, and violets. Look for the most obvious differences and then try to assess the more nuanced information. Remember that this is an ongoing process and not a once-and-done thing. Once you stop looking for differences, and once you stop comparing, you will revert to normal visual processing.

And some of the neuroscientists? Well, it seems as if many don’t think artists can learn to use the brain’s ability to process and compare complex information in a different way. They don’t believe we can learn to see differently. I think this bias is compromising the integrity of their research. Believing seems to be the first step in acquiring new information. Learning to see differently comes from a place of knowing this is possible.

The Rouen Cathedral series was painted in the 1890s by Claude Monet. The paintings in the series each capture the façade of the cathedral at different times of the day and year. The cathedral allowed Monet to highlight the paradox between a seemingly permanent, solid structure and the ever-changing light which constantly plays with our perception of it. 

Four ridiculously simply ways to improve your painting

1. Stop and Look
Yes, I know this one sounds obvious, but after 25 years of teaching workshops, I can tell you the most common mistake artists make is to quit looking. I’ve seen far too many artists veer off into trite and predictable painting after a good, strong start simply because they stopped looking at the subject and the canvas with a critical eye.

This is often the result of what I call “brush-overdrive” which basically means a person will move the brush around on the canvas just because the brush is in the hand. We could also call it “automatic painting” - something similar to automatic writing which is defined as writing without conscious thought. Although we would all probably like some painting spirit hovering overhead telling us what to do next, count that option as not available and deal with the choices at hand. Just because there is a brush in your hand does not mean you actually have to make a mark on the canvas. Moving the brush and actually putting paint down do not always have to go together.

Develop new habits for looking and painting. Try not to make more than 3 or 4 brushstrokes at a time without stopping or pausing to observe. This gives you a place to use some critical thinking and observational skills before returning to the more creative brush mark. Find your own rhythm, but make sure you are not making multiple brush strokes without intent and without stopping to look.

2. Stand comfortably with a good view and remember to step back
Find a comfortable stance in front of the easel that allows you to easily move or alter your stance. (For those artists who sit while painting, try a chair with casters.) Avoid a rigid, fixed stance that prevents you from adjusting your view of the subject and of the canvas.

Even more importantly, stand at a distance that allows you to see all four corners of the canvas. We have a tendency to paint “things” without regard to the spaces around the “things.” Getting in the habit of seeing the entire canvas makes it easier to recognize that each mark and each shape has a relationship to the whole. Staring at pieces of information is an entirely unnatural act. In our everyday lives our eyes are constantly moving so keep that in mind next time you find your nose inches away from your painting.

Stepping back from the painting is not just an exercise program for painters. At one time or another, or maybe more often than we care to admit, we have worked feverishly on a painting only to walk away and realize there is no “there” there. The values and color are nondescript and perhaps the drawing information went awry. Standing in a fixed position and staring at pieces of information is not conducive to incorporating all those pieces into an interesting whole. Moving away from the canvas (or yes, even to the side) on a regular basis allows a different view and is more similar to how we naturally see the world around us.

 Also, if you are working on a large canvas, you will need to step back to be able to see the whole of the canvas – all four corners of it. John Singer Sargent would back all the way across the room to view his life-size paintings and then run forward to make a brushstroke.

3. Squint!
Take off your glasses, close one eye, squint, or look sideways, but alter how you are looking on a regular basis.

Squinting is the best for value comparison. (It is not good for color comparison.) Squinting simplifies the information and allows us to see patterns more easily. Finding an interesting and strong value pattern is often the foundation for the entire painting.

Closing one eye eliminates depth perception and flattens the image.

Looking sideways or peripherally is an important, but unsung, part of our visual perception. Only the very center of our gaze is optimized for higher visual acuity with the ability to see detail. We don’t usually notice this because we are constantly moving our eyes. This does not mean the rest of our visual field is inferior – only different. Peripheral vision is optimized for coarser information and is used for organizing the spatial scene and for viewing larger objects. Margaret Livingstone in “The Biology of Seeing” suggests peripheral vision is better able to detect facial expressions, and that the spatial imprecision of peripheral vision was an important component of many Impressionist paintings, giving these paintings a sense of time and movement.

4. Mind your brushes 
Use the right size and type of brush for the task at hand. The paintbrush doesn’t just define information – it creates it. Whether you need texture, or shape, or definition use the proper brush and don’t just default to the one already in your hand.

Pay attention to how you are holding the brush. While there may be occasion to hold the brush like a pencil, recognize this method is not as conducive to creative and interpretive painting and it is also not likely to create variety and interest in your brushstrokes. Handling the brush like a pencil or pen is most likely to access the neural pathways in your brain that are associated with language and writing. For the sake of simplicity we can call this a left-brain, right-brain problem. The cognitive processes associated with language can easily override visual processing – the parts of your brain that can recognize shapes, compare value and color, find the pattern, and see the whole instead of just the pieces.

This blog was originally posted on
Lori Putnam's Best Blog Party Ever

The creativity crisis

American creativity scores are declining. Research by Dr. KH Kim, Associate Professor at the College of William & Mary, documents a decline on creativity tests at all grade levels starting between 1984 and 1990 and decreasing ever since.

Kim’s findings document a decline in all aspects of creativity, but the biggest decline is in the ability to take a particular idea and expand on it in an interesting and novel way. More than 85% of children in 2008 scored lower on this measure than did the average child in 1984. According to Kim, “children have become… less perceptive, less apt to connect seemingly irrelevant things, and less likely to see things from a different angle.”

So what exactly is creativity and why are we having such a problem with it? First of all, creativity is certainly not just the domain of the “arts”. The University of Georgia’s Marc Runco calls this “art bias.” The continuing belief that the arts have a special claim to creativity is unfounded. When given creativity tasks both engineering majors and music majors had the same patterns of response.

Creativity is not just right brain dominance; it is the ability of the brain to discern information from both hemispheres and to use convergent and divergent thinking (such as linear and non-linear thinking). Trying to solve a problem with only the right side of your brain would result in ideas on the tip of your tongue and just beyond reach.

The initial process of problem solving begins with the left brain analyzing obvious facts and familiar solutions. If the answer is not available, both the left and right hemispheres activate together to process the less obvious information. This more distant information is what we normally tune out, and without it we are less likely to find abstractions, unseen patterns, and alternative meanings. Once a connection is made, the left brain then processes the information into a new idea. Without the process of divergent thinking, using both hemispheres of the brain, we are completely dependent on only the most obvious and already recognized thoughts and ideas.

Unfortunately, many people are uncomfortable with the change and uncertainty that accompany creativity. It is easier and more comfortable to deal with what we already know (and think we see). According to Kim, the “decrease in originality scores is an indirect measure of growing social pressures toward conformity and status quo, and increasing intolerance for new ideas.”

“Yes, There IS a Creativity Crisis” by KH Kim Jul 10, 2012
“As Children’s Freedom Has Declined, So Has Creativity” by Peter Gray, Psychology Today Sep 27, 2012
“The Creativity Crisis” Newsweek Jul 19, 2010

"The Lemon" by Euan Uglow

Dome at Volterra

Euan Uglow described to an interviewer the inspiration for his still life Lemon (1973):

"I'll tell you what Lemon is about ... It's the dome at Volterra that Brunelleschi was supposed to have helped with. It's most beautiful, very simple, very lovely. I couldn't paint the dome there, so when I came back I thought I'd try to paint it from a lemon."

"The Snail" by Henri Matisse

Henri Matisse gave up painting in the last years of his life to create paper cut-outs. These were made by cutting or tearing shapes from paper which had been painted with gouache. Matisse said the technique allowed him to draw in color. His daughter said her father made many drawings of snails at the time of the work “The Snail” (1953) and that the idea for this work came from these drawings. The concentric pattern formed by the colored shapes in the center of the work echoes the spiral pattern found in the snail’s shell. 

Matisse said, “All this time I have looked for the same things, which I have perhaps realized by different means . . . There is no separation between my old pictures and my cutouts, except that with greater completeness and abstraction I have attained a form filtered to its essentials and of the object which I used to present in the complexity of space, I have preserved the sign.”

Disney meets Sorolla

A while ago as I was trying to explain the concept of warmer-cooler color to a group of students, I could tell some of them just weren't getting the meaning of color pattern. The next morning, while reading the morning paper in my hotel room, I came across several images from a Disney animated film. They were excellent examples of design with color temperature. A frame would be either primarily warm or primarily cool with accents of the opposite color temperature.

 I clipped the pictures from the paper and took them into class. As I held the images up and explained the use of color it was apparent this example made an impact. Why? Because the images were simplified and the colors were easy to identify. They used basic color notations and were easily seen as primary and secondary colors. And once the identification of color was made, it was just as easy to see the pattern of warmer-cooler colors.

Understanding color temperature is complicated by the fact visual experience and, in turn, most paintings are composed of subtle variations that have little resemblance to a color wheel.  It is difficult to compare a grey or tan to a primary or secondary color. But if we learn to identify the most obvious information first, deciphering the rest of the visual information becomes just a little easier.

William F. Reese gave his students good information when he instructed them to: 1. identify the hue – red, yellow, blue or green; 2. adjust the value which is often to lighten by adding white, then adjust the temperature by using adjacent hues from the color wheel; and 3. adjust the chroma (intensity of the color) by using the complement if necessary.

I can’t say I am as directional nor as organized to follow this method of color mixing, but it certainly helps clarify the process.

The work of Joaquin Sorolla (1863-1923) provides some great examples of color temperature and the pattern of color information. Many of his paintings have a clarity of color and a pattern of warmer-cooler color that is reasonably easy to identify.

Promenade on the Beach by Joaquin Sorolla

Children on the Seashore by Joaquin Sorolla

Child's Siesta by Joaquin Sorolla

Chalk and mud

When an artist refers to an area in a painting as looking chalky or muddy, the problem is usually color temperature.

 “Chalky” refers to white without a specific and appropriate color temperature and “muddy” is probably a darker value without a color temperature. The problem is most likely paint without an identity – something akin to limbo, neither here nor there. This does not mean every bit of paint on a canvas needs to resemble a color wheel of primaries. Just a nudge here and there will identify a color as warmer or cooler.

Highlights and areas of very light values should have variation and interest. A touch of viridian or orange can do wonders for highlights, and larger areas of light value need to have an identity other than “white”. They need to be part of the overall pattern of color temperature but still be descriptive and interesting.

The problem with “mud” usually begins on the palette, but over-brushing an area of a painting will also mix the paint into one non-descriptive mess. The problem is not because the artist mixed more than three colors together on the palette. This “rule” arose in an attempt to find an easy solution to non-descriptive mixtures. Perhaps it works for some, but I am in the camp of sometimes scraping paint on my palette into one big pile and using it (and this is the important part) if it is appropriate and useful. This mixture of multiple colors might need some adjustment for value and color – lighter, darker, warmer or cooler.

Neutral mixtures of paint (tans and greys) are important. They enhance and help identify color. All areas of a painting do not need exclamation points. Just learn to appreciate subtle changes in color and pay attention to the overall pattern of lighter and darker values and warmer and cooler colors.