How I Begin a Painting: Some Tips and Ideas

'Chinese Landscape,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 80 x 40 cm

How do you begin a painting? As an artist I'm always curious to know how other artists approach a blank canvas; do they have a specific idea of the composition and image they want to paint or is the theme and approach flexible? It seems to me that this doorway into a painting is something that many artists find through trial and error though some have a clear path from college as to the kind of painting they feel an affinity with. Some of my art college friends like to work from sketches made in the landscape or from photos, or directly from the figure, and with a clear, figurative approach. Some other friends start from the paint and the idea or image evolves through their relationship with colours and shapes as they emerge. Some need to make numerous sketches to plan out a composition in advance and then draw in the elements before they begin to paint. Others may start from a line in a poem or memory, or work out abstract compositions in drawings before touching a paint brush. 

One thing is for sure; you never stop learning! I follow artists whose approach varied throughout their life as their need for particular elements broadened and changed or more questions about the nature of painting appeared along their journey. I think this is true of all artists though especially with abstract artists there is a need to follow a path to discover the language and poetry of paint. The more you paint, the more its potential speaks to you.

The posted painting shows one of my approaches. This was painted to commission so the brief was fairly specific but still allowed me room to improvise, which is one of the aspects of painting that I enjoy. The client said: it must fit with my Chinese cabinet (which was quite ornate); it should feature Chinese elements; animals and houses would be nice. Then we agreed on mountains and waterfalls. The great thing with digital technology and smart phones in particular is that you can send photos of the painting as you progress, and she was happy with all stages from the start. 

Though I was working to a brief I began the painting as I begin most of my work, with thin layers of colour and fluid paint in order to find shadowy forms that could then take life. I like to let the paint suggest imagery though I don't always work that way; sometimes I have a specific memory I want to translate  - painting, for me, is always my translation of the world around me - and I may have an idea of the kind of composition I need. Over time, certain elements (shape, colour, brush strokes) may take priority and this influences how the painting looks.

I love those early washes and marks but often they have to disappear under stronger more meaningful elements for the image to have clarity. I worked this painting in the same way I work with ink on rice paper; it had to have a certain spontaneity while also suggesting a sense of moving upwards (and downwards) and I liked the idea of a yellow sky - yellow in China conveys the idea of royalty or something special - and the tree on the top peak was painted as a feature to stop the viewer's eye.

In my next post I will be adding photos of a new work in progress to give an idea of how I begin a new painting. This will be painted from the title 'Vestiges of Things That Have Gone.' I don't often start from a title (most times I title the painting once it is finished though there may be a particular theme), but I have a pressing reason for this painting which I will write about next time.

There's no right or wrong, your approach is whatever allows you to convey your idea. Any artists reading this, feel free to leave comments on how you face a blank canvas.

An Outline of My Painting Process

'Feeling My Way Through the Land,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 100 x 80 cm

Before I begin a really large (120 x 160 cm) canvas I have been working on several medium sized paintings as a kind of preparation for working on a larger arena. I also wanted to explore some landscape elements I may use in the large painting which will be submitted to an international exhibition when finished. (Not a lot of pressure, then!)

The two medium sized canvases I am posting show how I often approach my series of landscape 'poems' from slightly different angles. The first, 'Feeling My Way Through the Landscape' was evaluated during frequent short breaks.  After the initial calligraphy I took time to think about each area before making changes. Some areas of detail remained untouched, some were painted over so that the lovely pale brown under-painting shone through. I wanted that base colour to have an emotional impact and for my mark-making to be like my emotional footsteps across an emerging landscape. My landscape experiences are so important to me that often my paintings are inspired by these. I like the mark making and colours to be almost like 'tracks' across the land.

'The Pathway to Forever,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 100 x 80 cm

This second painting takes a more spontaneous approach because I let the paint language dictate the calligraphic brush strokes and colours, with a lot of layering of fluid colour. (Once again, the photograph is not completely accurate; the blue is more of a grey-ultramarine blue). This reflects my approach when working with ink on rice paper which requires a confident touch because you cannot alter marks once they have been painted - other than tearing up the picture and making a collage (an idea for the future). I like the way that marks and colours can suggest a place or world, and as the 'landscape' emerges I take short breaks to evaluate what is going on, while wanting to retain the spontaneity of mark making. This can mean erasing parts completely, altering the intensity of a colour, or viewing the painting from another side. Sometimes I even prefer it from another side and will continue working it that way around.

The 'spontaneous process' paintings tend to be worked on fairly rapidly and with a lot of destruction and over-painting. Then they need a period of being left alone while I think about them. One recent painting, 'Three Escape the Deluge,' (which I am posting again) was left for a week, pending destruction, but then I decided it was actually finished. Artists are not always the best judges of their work in the immediate aftermath, so leaving a work alone allows the emotional censorship to fade and the chance to see what is actually happening in the painting.

'Three Escape the Deluge,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 50 x 70 cm

Painting really requires much testing of colours and shapes  and making mistakes, especially when your imagery often emerges through processes and letting the paint speak. Painting from the landscape or a figure has an exact set of references that can give a skeletal framework to attach colours to but working in an abstract way requires an intense attention to edges, shapes, colour transitions, colour relationships and also drawing. I am not saying that figurative work is more easy, just that you are starting with something to work from whereas working from the process of putting things down and 'trapping' an image takes some time and a lot of awareness of potentiality. You have to be open enough to follow where certain clues might lead you.

However, I also like to start from a visual memory and the final painting I am posting was inspired by a recent summer evening in the park in Tunbridge Wells (Kent, UK) watching a music festival with my husband. We sat up on a hillside with the moon rising to the side. There was some Lavender nearby. So my skeletal references were: moonlight, the full moon, lavender (purple), hazy shapes of trees, the glow the moon cast across the slightly cloudy sky. Painting that moon was a big challenge and I must have changed its colour, shape and position at least 12 times!

'Lavender Moon,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 50 x 60 cm

Once my large canvas is stretched I will post images of it as it progresses.

(Afternote: For my previous post I added a slideshow of some of my artwork on YouTube. It is not the best video as the colours did not translate well.)

Paths Long Travelled

September 25th Saturday.

This date was circled in my diary many months ago. Scrawled in red was, 'Don't forget APT Open Studios!' These open studios showcase the work of artists working at the APT studio complex, in Deptford, London. I was really looking forward to this event because several of the artists were my tutors at college (Mali Morris - newly elected to the Royal Academy - Clyde Hopkins, Geoff Rigden), and one artist, Nicola Rae, was in my year at college. I was also curious to see what they are doing now, and hoping to re-open connections. Being an artist is a lonely business, and having artist friends is of great value. They are among the few people who are able to understand one's daily obsessions and preoccupations.

I ended up spending nearly 4 hours going around the studios - there are 37, plus a gallery - and I was in heaven, being able to talk art! There was a great variety of approaches and themes, from abstract through to figurative, and after lots of animated discussions about paint and aesthetics, I had a lovely talk with Nicola. We reminisced about our student days, and I suddenly had an inner vision of paths long travelled. Far from being a painful reminder of the passage of time, the visit highlighted a luminous path stretching into the future.
('Park, Night Paths,' Oil and acrylic, 61cm x 45cm. 2010)