Tug o' War

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim..." - Oscar Wilde's preface to "The Picture of Dorian Gray"

There is a constant tug of war going on whenever I grab hold of a brush. On one side, the familiar persona of a craftsman wishing to attain technical perfection, and on the other a somewhat boisterous character that glides and whips across brushes without a care in the world.

Lately, I've been enticing the boisterous character to come out and paint. This character silences all other voices and dominates the night air with wild brush strokes and forceful lunges. It lures shadows and highlights out effortlessly onto the canvas, and it tells its story by swiping out emphatic lines that will emotions out onto a flat surface.

Almost like a spectator, I watch my images appear before my bewildered eyes.

I still have no understanding how the process works, but it seems painting "large" frees up this persona, whereas painting detailed sections forces the boisterous character to retreat, giving way to the craftsman.

Like any loaded weapon, a mind must direct it for it to be of any use. The boisterous persona needs to be pointed like a gun. I always plan and contemplate on my paintings before I even start. I've visualized and pondered how my paintings should eventually look like when finished. I might revise midway, but essentially, what I've visualized early on is what I ended up with.

I've allowed myself to run freely away without a clear plan before, and the result was disastrous - and wasteful. This possibility, this risk, is always at the back of my mind whenever I start a work. It's no different with this 36x60in composition I have in mind.




I've thought about the appropriateness of the subject matter in relation to the size of the canvas. I've considered how immature it might seem like, or even how uncreative or cliched it may seem to others, but the image begs to be painted. I can easily choose to paint my Binangonan or even Bulacan compositions in this huge canvas, but still, the virtual cries of the image above will be an incessant noise in my mind if I don't get it done.

I try to reassure myself that the color scheme will be fresh, that the faded and seemingly cubist "male" will be interesting to watch, and that a projected shadow on everything will add another dimension to an otherwise flat composition. If anything else, that fantastically long hair tying everything down longitudinally will be a defining element - the appreciation of which will justify the work.

It begs to be painted, and it begs to be painted "that" large.

Tearing Off a Canvas and Falling Asleep

I should have seen it, but I didn't.  The “Lechon” in the quadtych was too small in proportion to the other panels.  I tore it off the stretcher (well, it was not as dramatic as what you might think) and tried flipping it but I couldn't stretch the creases out of the painting surface.  Good thing I had a length of canvas lying around.  That erroneous “Lechon” would be my second canvas that a trashed.  Frankly, I should do that more often.  It might be a tad wasteful but you can't go wrong with quality control.

I've started on the underpainting for the quadtych and was amazed that I can actually paint while sleeping.  I was trying to pull off an all nighter, fell asleep while painting and... well, woke up with this in front of me:

I don't know how much of it was done while I was asleep – or half asleep.  Heck, I don't even know how I loaded the brush.

These other ones were done while I was fully awake:

I enjoy underpainting.  I feel lost most of the time, but it is really a very liberating exercise.  It feels almost mindless.  Which brings me to lament how I wish I could paint portraits in a very painterly manner.  I don't know if I actually could paint technically acceptable portraits but I think my patience will run out before I even get halfway.  Nonetheless, I've been “studying” a collection of fine portraits from other artists over at Artbreak.  Been re-reading books on Renoir and Manet as well.

Roofscape... hell, I'm fighting for every inch of it.  I think I'll revisit it after a few days.  Besides, I still need reference materials for the boy leaning on the dome structure.