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Gaudy?

Gaudy?

 

 

 

Snow & Light, 8X10," Oil on Panel

 

 


What do you do to keep a sunset painting from looking like a cheap paint-on-velvet horror? That's insulting as phrased. Sorry. What I'm trying to say is that some subjects in nature are very gaudy, and representing them can also be gaudy. What is done to keep that from happening? Is it the artist's skill? Is it technique?

 

  Sidney Oliver


Sid, there might be a lot of variables, so let's explore a few ideas:

 

Your question reminded me of what painter Jim Gray used to say back in the sixties. "Fall is that time of year when you put up your paintbrush."

 

In the fall I frequently press forward with that admonition floating in my brain. I'm sure I can recall some very bright paintings I've done, but I hope they don't qualify for one of those velvet side-of-the-road works of art. When I was painting these very bright paintings, I was painting in a very dark, paneled room. It was difficult to discern proper colors. Once I began painting in my spacious light filled studio, the more extreme brightness in my paintings seemed to slip away.

 

Bear in mind that it's not just the fall season, the spring can be too cutesy with way too much flowering going on. 

 

 

 

 

I do believe this sunrise with an iridescent flowering crabapple is about as gaudy as you can get.

 

I think in situations like the photograph above, I stop at the photograph. A painting such as this would be far too syrupy.

 

 

 

On the Edge of Town, 18X24," Oil on Panel

It's obvious that I went whole hog with this one, but I suspect I held back on some of the fall effects.

The old house added much validity and weight to the bright colors.

 

As for sunrises and sunsets, which I get in abundance, they are gaudy by nature. While painting, include some grayed areas, which would be present early in the morning or near dusk, to keep that neon quality at bay.

 

 

Sunset Burst, 12X24," Oil on Panel

Snow and a grayed tree line help to tone down the sky in the painting above. The orange and the yellow sky lack that neon appearance.

 

I think the careful choice of paint brand and color help to tone down the painting. Be aware of the neon aspect when purchasing paints especially if doing sunrises or sunsets. I don't think I would have attempted the rising or setting sun a while back, but, after living where I do with frequent spectacular views of the sky, I've become accustomed to what will work in a painting and what will not look artificial like some of those photographs when the saturation has been pumped up way too much.

 

Perhaps a choice of subject matter coupled with the use of garish colors contributes to the cheapened effect. Choosing a cheesy subject and using neon colors is a gaudiness guarantee.

 

This is an aside and I am not implying that we will learn to love crass paintings on velvet, but our tastes do change. When I was a little kid, I might have been drawn to those paintings on velvet we would see when driving through Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. You have to admit that they were eye-catching. I don't remember loving them, but we do remember them, don't we?

 

I've written about my love for being a sucker for flowering shrubs and trees when I first moved to the middle of a hayfield. Now, I'm more into substantial greenery, which I need so desperately. If I had thought about zinnias at all, I would have thought they were gaudy and showy. I never thought of them, but, if I had, that's what I would have said.

 

I don't know what altered my opinion, but I think the start of it was when I painted the painting below.

 

 

 

The Inn at Little Washington's Sunday Farmer's Market, 9X12," Oil on Panel

 

 

Fast forward a few years and I've grown to become quite fond of zinnias, so much in fact that I am in the process of preparing a fairly large area of  very poor soil as a spot for nothing but zinnias. The preparation began as lasagna gardening, but it's morphed into being a mess of soil, straw, mulch, leftover vegetable peelings, coffee grounds, and a host of anything I think will help. If the soil improves, I predict more zinnia paintings in my future.

 

 

 

I didn't grow many more zinnias than these out of planting hundreds of seeds last year. This year's goal is a better yield. 

 

Yes, nature can be gaudy, but we don't need to eschew those elements of nature. As painters, we have the ability to tone it down a tad.

 

Enjoy the process!

 

 

  Ruthie Windsor-Mann


This post is part of a series of Q & As between Ruthie Windsor-Mann and Sidney Oliver. 

 

We invite the reader to join in with other questions in the comments section. This needs to be interactive in order to work.

 

All photographs are by Ruthie Windsor-Mann unless otherwise credited.

 

 

Copyright 2020 Ruthie Windsor-Mann All Rights Reserved

 

 

Comments

2 Responses to Gaudy?

Wonderful comments and tips - thanks so much for sharing!

Happy to do so, Gail. Keep commenting. It's helpful.


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