Knowing When to Stop Painting

'Excursion,' acrylic on canvas, 30 x 40 cm

My last post was way back in October and normally I would not leave such a gap between writing but unfortunately a family member had a bad accident and I have been running back and forth to the hospital. My whole schedule had to change for a while. I have not yet been able to write the review of the Beijing International Art Biennale or finish a number of paintings that are standing gathering dust!

This brings me to the subject of 'finishing work', a question that was asked by a friend last week on Facebook in relation to the above painting. How do you know when a painting is finished? My response to this question would probably have been different 12 years ago, when I relied more on landscape studies to guide me, using that ready-made skeletal framework to tick off the elements within the painting: is that tree 'correct;' are the shadows the right shapes and colours; what about the horizon line? I have spent years painting in the land but often found that paintings made from the memory of an experience convey more fully the spirit of the place than literally copying a scene. I have also always had a love of paint itself and like to explore how brush strokes, marks and layers of paint can recreate a place or arena of imagination. This excitement of discovery is what keeps me painting.

'First Glimpse,' (work in progress, China series) acrylic and ink on canvas, 68 x 89 cm

That then brings you onto the subject of who are you painting for? If you are painting for the 'market' then most potential buyers need to see something they can pin a degree of recognition on to. For this reason I used to paint portraits and animal portraits and sold a lot. There is a market for colourful abstracts too but it is not as wide as the figurative market. 

'Tom's Midnight Garden,' acrylic and oil on board, 65 x 50 cm (finished)

I take as my starting point that I paint for myself. I am my own critic, and the painting has to meet my intentions and more. It has to have that something extra that is beyond anything you can plan for, and it must extend my own ideas as an artist. If I start with a painting of a memory from China, in particular my month living next to the Great Wall, then I already have some elements in mind that I may want to explore and extend. Then my work nearly always grows out of the process of applying paint, trying things out, scraping paint off, and making changes until the work sings to me. This is a very hard thing to describe! It is easier to say why I feel the need to continue a painting than it is to say why it is finished. It is often judged by feeling and also how does it speak to me as a visual poem?

'Bay Area,' acrylic on canvas, 32 x 45 cm (finished)

I always have several paintings on the go at any one time. This helps me because if I reach an impasse on one canvas, I go to another for a while and sometimes I gain insights from that one that I can take back to the problem painting. Sometimes a work has to be painted over, and then there are glimmers of under-painting that speak to me of something new to be explored. It is always a journey with lots of the unknown thrown in! It is not as 'easy' as having a definite subject in front of me but I love the discoveries along the way.

'Fragile-Landscape,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 30 x 40 cm (finished)

I have a number of paintings that are being 'considered.'  They may end up being considered for months. I used to become a bit discouraged if I worked on something for a long time and it did not come together! But I have realised that bad days lead on to new discoveries and many bad paintings are the result of a re-evaluation of certain elements and either I eventually solve it in that painting or something new enters the next series of work.

Recently, some figuration has crept back in. I don't like to be fixed in my ideas about what is and is not 'allowed.' Some works just end up more abstract than others as I sort through my ideas and look at the needs of the evolving imagery. My Beijing Biennale painting 'The Silk Road and Human Exchange,' combined figuration and abstraction in a way that has since impacted on new work.

'Untitled,' acrylic, oil and gesso on canvas, (work in progress)

As for the paintings in this post that are labelled 'finished,' it is because I felt they were resolved in their own terms, or they presented something unexpected that conveyed an imaginary world that I liked. For me, painting is like creating a visual poem and I seek that elusive combination of elements that make magic! It is wonderful when that world resonates with someone else.