ArtBlog

The challenge of beginning a painting

“Of course, I don’t go into the studio with the idea of “saying” something – that’s ludicrous. What I do is face the blank canvas, which is terrifying. Finally I put a few arbitrary marks on it that start me on some sort of dialogue.”

Richard Diebenkorn (1922-1993)

For me the beginning of a painting is unquestionably the most important step in the process. When I am planning a journey I spend time packing carefully with a sense of purpose, yet, leaving some space to be filled with things I might want to bring back. Most of the time before starting a new painting I do not have a clear or detailed concept. While I may have thought about a motive or chosen a subject matter beforehand, I try to keep an open mind to the possibility of discovery as I proceed. Painting becomes an opportunity to experiment and grow.

I never start with a white canvas. There is something viscerally frightening about a blank canvas as if the sterile white nothingness were an engulfing void. The responsibility of filling that void can feel overwhelming for sure.

I start taming my canvas by applying a variety of thin washes creating a layered abstract surface using a big flat brush, the kind I buy at a hardware store. I prefer to prep my canvasses with warm tones using acrylics for their versatility and quick drying time. I’ll never incorporate a pencil drawing of any kind regardless of the medium. Should I somehow feel the need for composition purposes to sketch, I’ll do so quickly on separate paper. I want to keep my paintings as open ended a feasible especially in the beginning. To me the contours of a drawing can be too stifling as I find myself limited by their linear restrictiveness.

I do not mean to imply, however, that one can forgo the ability to draw well, quite the contrary! If I feel confident about my skills I do not need the crutch of an underlying drawing to guide me. It is a misconception that somehow one does not need to know how to draw in order to paint. Whether or not one’s style is representational, the ability to draw with accuracy is an invaluable foundation. Surely there are exceptions…yet, like most musicians, painters too need to practice their scales and tune their instruments regularly.

On occasion, when an anatomically correct figure is called for, I trace a grid on the canvas, and then sketch the shape in a quick gesture fashion not concerning myself with details. As I move on I ‘ll adjust, refine details and make the necessary corrections.

After I have prepared the canvas, I paint in the general bigger shapes while deciding where the darker areas will go. Then, I quickly sketch with the paint brush, but rather than drawing outlines, I form shapes by drawing from the inside out.

Unless I decide to purposely work with a limited palette, I set out all of my many colors as well as a wide variety of paint brushes which I arrange with a ritualistic precision. When possible I like to paint to music. All of these strategies foster a comfort zone in which my senses can be heightened in order to better equip me for the sensual experience of painting.

Finally, I always hope for some excitement. When I do not feel an initial enthusiasm, I sense that my painting will lack in energy. On such days I may opt to sharpen my skills in doing exercises. At such times, a momentum is likely to be built which can fuel a renewed sense of engagement. Painting is a journey, the end of which shapes a new beginning.