Too many non-painting tasks this morning. I’m usually at the easel by lunchtime, but not today. It’s something we all have to figure out- how to get everything done and still have time to do what we want and need to do, which is to make art.
So, I’m going to offer some quotes I like for a rainy afternoon in Humboldt County. And then GET PAINTING!
I think people who are not artists often feel that artists are inspired. But if you have to work at your art you don’t have time to be inspired. Out of work comes the work. John Cage
I arise in the morning torn between a desire to save the world and a desire to savor the world. That makes it hard to plan the day. E.B. White
Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep. Scott Adams
The world today doesn’t make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do? Pablo Picasso
Art, like morality, consists in drawing the line somewhere. G.K. Chesterton
I think we’ve all had the experience of looking at art that is really, really good. It’s both an inspiration and sometimes a cause of despair. But one of the traditional ways to train one’s eye is to look at good art. Lots of it. In the original.
Then there are the days in the studio when we wonder why we ever thought we could do this. We know (I hope) what our goal is for a particular painting, but we Just Can’t Quite Get There.
It can be easy to lose perspective. Sometimes it’s helpful to remember that the artists we so admire didn’t begin at the high level we associate with their work.
I happen to have accumulated over the years some examples in print of early work by some very well-known artists, along with their mature work. I thought I’d offer three examples today.
I want to make it clear that I don’t believe that any of the early examples are “bad” or inferior in any way. The purpose of showing them is simply to demonstrate that everyone’s art evolves over time (or should). They are illustrations, not easel paintings, so they were done as jobs for an art director, with whom the artist didn’t always see eye to eye. The limitations of commercial work are what led them to become what we think of as Fine Artists, who paint or painted only for themselves.
Keeping that in mind:
Howard Terpning is one of the most prominent American painters working today. I knew his name as an illustrator and it wasn’t until I became a painter that I encountered him as a fine artist. His work didn’t attract me much since I’m not that interested in Native Americans, his specialty. But I was at a workshop with John Banovich, who is known for his African wildlife paintings, particularly lions and elephants, and there in his studio, kept near his easel, was a book of Terpning’s work. John picked up the book and explained that it was worth studying for the quality of the painting, separate from the subject matter. I took my turn paging through it and saw immediately what John meant, so I bought my own copy as soon as I got home. I learned a valuable lesson that day: don’t let subject matter get in the way of learning from a great artist.
Nice narrative from the rabbit's point of view. 1966Detail from "Hope Springs Eternal-Ghost Dance" 1987
Guy Coholeach, as far as I know, has always been an animal artist, although when he was an illustrator I suspect he took the jobs as they came, regardless of subject matter. I do remember knowing and admiring his work from long before I went back to art school and got a degree in illustration. When I became an animal artist myself, there he was, one of the most prominent wildlife painters in the field. He’s probably best known for his paintings of the Big Cats. One of the things I find inspiring about his work is that he doesn’t arbitrarily limit himself to one “style”, but does what’s needed to express his vision of a subject. So his work can range from very tight and beautifully rendered to juicy and painterly. In either case, his drawing, composition and paint handling is impeccable.
From "The Look-It-Up Book of Mammals, 1967Detail of "Hanging Out", 1989
Bob Kuhn is my idol. Simple as that. Especially when I was struggling on all fronts trying to do a decent painting, I’d get stuck on some aspect and ask myself “What would Bob do?”. I’d get down my Bob Kuhn books (I have all of them) and go through them until I found his solution. I’d bounce off it to come up with what worked for me, knowing that ultimately I had to find my own way and not rely on someone else. Not to knock other artists at all, but I personally don’t have, and have never had, any interest as a painter in detail per se. In an art genre where highly detailed work has been the standard, Bob Kuhn was a beacon of light and hope that I could find a place in the animal art world while working in a painterly manner. I also learned from him not to compromise on getting the best reference possible, to draw from live animals as often as possible and to be knowledgeable and accurate in how I portray a species in their anatomy, behavior and habitat. Can’t ask for more than that from your hero.
He always did action like no one else. 1952Detail of "Lions Waiting for Night to Fall", 1978
This article was in Andrew’s latest newsletter. I don’t have a lot of experience with commissions, having only done a few dogs and one horse portrait over the years. When I read this article, I saw that it had a lot of good information that would be of interest not only to the artists among you, but anyone who has thought about commissioning a piece of art but wasn’t sure how to go about it. I think that if everybody follows their respective “tips”, the odds are that it will be a happy experience all around.
By way of introduction: Andrew has gained national attention through his involvement with the Society of Animal Artists, feature coverage in such publications as Southwest Art, American Artist, Wildlife Art, and The Artist’s Magazine, among others. and has held three highly successful one-man shows at Pacific Wildlife Art Galleries. He has also participated in exhibits at the Bedford and Hearst Galleries, and the Oakland Museum. His work has toured nationally with Birds in Art and the Society of Animal Artists, which has honored Andrew’s work with Awards of Excellence for two consecutive years. Andrew’s work can be found in the National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson, Wyoming, the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Art Museum, Wisconsin, and numerous private collections across the country. He is currently represented by the venerable Trailside Galleries in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. You can see more of his work here.
"A Very Wyer Winter" acrylic on board, 24 x 21" 2009
So, without further ado, here’s Andrew Denman on “The Delicate Art of Commissions:
As long as there have been artists committed to earning a living with their work, there have been collectors and patrons eager to commission art that speaks directly to their own tastes and preferences. Many artists have a love- hate relationship with commissions; they certainly offer the comfort and convenience of a “sure sale,” but may artists feel an uncomfortable sense of restriction, of guidelines outside one’s own whims and fancies bogging down the creative process. It’s unfortunate, because commissions (like the one above) can be among the most rewarding and profitable experiences an artist can have. The following are tips for both artists and patrons on how to successfully pursue a commission.
TIPS FOR ARTISTS:
1. Only take commissions that interest you. The primary fear of many artists who refuse commissions altogether is that taking a commission necessarily means painting whatever a client demands and “selling out.” This is hardly an issue if you only take the jobs that speak to you as an artist. Moreover, remember that just because it didn’t start out as “your idea” doesn’t mean a commission can’t become a painting that fully represents you as an artist. Remember the Sistine Chapel was a commission too!
2. Spend time with the client, carefully assessing likes, dislikes and project requirements. Presumably, if a collector has sought you out, he has seen and enjoyed previous work. Take note of the client’s favorite pieces, and be sure you understand specifically what he likes about them. Be certain to learn the deal breakers. If you know the two or three things you have to avoid or must include (say the client wants a painting of a barn swallow, hates the color blue, especially loves your attention to fine detail, and wants to make sure the painting will look good in a driftwood frame) then you can exercise your creativity in all other areas.
3. Be certain to have the commissioner approve of a sketch or study before you begin work on the final piece. If some small element needs adjusting, this is the time to do it. I only ask for a deposit after this stage so the client doesn’t feel any obligation until he knows exactly what he’s getting. If the client is dissatisfied, I still have a nice study ready to use for other purposes.
4. Do take a deposit before you begin painting. One of the benefits of commissions is that you have some money coming in while you are working, not just after completion. Be prepared, however, to return the deposit if the client is dissatisfied. It may never happen to you (and it probably won’t) but a happy client might still buy from you in the future. A disappointed client stuck with a painting he doesn’t like certainly won’t and will never send any referrals your way.
5. Agree on a deadline. Many artists hate working under pressure and many of us have show schedules to consider and galleries to supply, so commission deadlines of a year or more are not uncommon. The key is to let your collector know exactly what to expect. If a hard deadline is one of the project requirements (such as for a birthday or anniversary gift) be honest about your ability to meet the deadline. It’s better to turn down a job than to take on more work than you can handle and sacrifice the quality of your art.
6. If you are still uncomfortable with commissions, consider a “First Right of Refusal” arrangement. Unlike commissions, first rights of refusal involve no deposits and no deadlines. A client who is interested in a painting of a bison, for instance, will simply have “first dibs” on your next bison painting, which you may finish next week or two years down the road. The client feels no obligation and you have total creative control, but you’ve given a collector special treatment that is unlikely to be forgotten, whether he buys the specific piece you offer him or not. Keep a running list of such requests and follow through.
"The Hawthorne Pair" acrylic on board, 12 x 9 1/2" 2009
TIPS FOR COLLECTORS:
1. Be selective about the artists you approach with your ideas. Entering into a commission is entering into a relationship with an artist that could last months or years. Make sure that you and the artist can communicate effectively and amicably from the start. Any artist should be flattered that you thought of him to create that special piece, but make sure your project speaks to the artist’s interests and personality before making your approach.
2. When you tell the artist your idea, don’t rattle off a laundry list of requirements. Be very clear about what’s really important to you and leave the nitty gritty details to the artist’s imagination. Start by sharing with the artist your favorite pieces and clearly describe what speaks to your sensibilities. It’s challenging enough for an artist to take the image in his own head and translate it to the canvas; it’s nearly impossible for him to take the image in your head and bring it to life. Commissioning a fine art piece isn’t about finding someone to paint that idea you’ve always had in your head; it’s about providing the seed of inspiration that inspires an artist to create something that belongs to him as much as it does to you.
3. Honesty combined with tact goes a long way. Ask to see a study up front and be frank about your impressions. Artists can be touchy about criticism, but this is your ball game, so don’t apologize for your input. Simply avoid vague criticisms, broad generalities, and major changes from the idea you originally discussed. As long as you clearly state any concerns and offer your suggestions in a respectful manner, remembering to defer to the artist’s professional judgements (except where deal breakers are concerned), no reasonable artist should take offense. If your suggestions are met with annoyance or hostility, this is the time to part ways. Either the artist is unreasonable or the two of you simply aren’t communicating effectively, in which case neither of you are likely to be pleased with the final result.
A Final Note:
Collectors, when all is said and done, make sure the artist knows how pleased you are with the final piece. Creating a work of art requires hard work and a very special talent, which is why you’re contracting it out in the first place, and a piece of original art that truly meets or surpasses your expectations is to be cherished, as is the artist who created it.
Artists, remember that a collector who admires your work, seeks you out, and wants to be a part of your creative process is a great gift, not to mention an invaluable testament to your abilities as an artist. When you find a commissioner who is a pleasure to work with, be sure to express your appreciation too, and take care to nurture the relationship in the years ahead.
———
Susan here:
I’ve seen a lot of Andrew’s work. He does what is needed to say what he wants to say and doesn’t give a fig about stylistic consistency. But this last piece is really, well, different than anything else I’ve seen him do. Maybe I’ll have him back to tell us the story of this commission.
"The Cosmological Bird" acrylic on board, 34 1/2 x 24" 2008
We had a heck of a series of winter storms last week here in California. And this week a large chunk of the rest of the country is getting wacked. It’s stay indoors season. Not a great time to paint outdoors, unless you’re one of those seriously hardcore plein air folk, or do fieldwork if you are an animal artist. Snow is one thing, but driving rain and hail, high winds or ice storms are something else. What to do (drums fingers on table)? Here’s some ideas:
1. Ask yourself- What are you really bad at?- Trees? Water? Fur? Eyes? Be honest. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. I remember my artist sister-in-law telling me about a classmate at art school whose use of color was, apparently, pretty awful. He made a commitment to improve and is now a nationally known artist and illustrator known for, among other things, his incredible use of color. What I learned from this story is that, with hard work and a willingness to struggle and learn, a weakness can be turned into a major strength.
There's probably at least six exercises that one could do from this photo. What are they?Cinereous vulture, Bronx Zoo; opportunity to show depth and form in an eye study; the photo flattens the image; what do you have to do to compensate?
Exercise: Set aside some time each week to work on something that’s hard or that you feel is a weak point in your work. Do little studies that should only take a hour or two. Don’t bit off a big chunk like “water”. Break it down into smaller problems like reflections or what pebbles look like through water. Robert Bateman says that he used to sit and watch water for hours to learn what the pattern was. You could throw stones in a big mud puddle to study ripples.
2. Take a look at your old work- Creating art can be very discouraging. Sometimes it seems like we’re just spinning our wheels. Progress in gaining any skill is usually incremental. Someone who hadn’t seen my work for awhile was visiting my studio recently and commented that my work had taken a great leap since they’d last seen it. I found that very gratifying, but also interesting. I do occasionally paint something in which it all comes together and there is a big move forward, but that’s the exception.
old reference 4x6" photo (cropped) from 1996Painting (cringe) from 1997; it looked ok to me at the time; I could write an entire post now about what's wrong with itBrush drawing from a couple of weeks ago for an 8x8" painting; the difference should be obvious
Exercise: Get some of your favorite beverage, pull out your old work and set it up next to your latest pieces. What do you think? I hope you see steady improvement over time, which should give you some well-deserved encouragement. If you don’t, then see if you can figure out why. Be honest. I know some artists who seem to think that amount of years spent painting equals good work. Not true at all. Twenty-five years of doing the same subjects in the same way with the same technical problems still means mediocre paintings.
3. Evaluate your photo reference- a famous wildlife artist who I was lucky enough to study with a couple of times told us that “you’re only as good as your reference”. I have found that to be absolutely true. Every time I’ve been able to upgrade my camera equipment or how I view my reference, my paintings have shown immediate improvement. You can’t put in what’s not there unless you know the subject extremely well. Trust me on this. The biggest leap for me was going from film to digital, which let me move from prints to the equivalent of big transparencies. I’m slowly purging my photo print reference of all the kinda-sorta images that I know aren’t good enough.
Impala painting from photos shot during my 1999 trip to Kenya; flat as a piece of paper with everything in local color my main reference photo; notice the absolute lack of any perceivable light sourceThompson's Gazelle; no hint of a background, but you know there's light because of that cast shadow on the neck
Exercise: Go through your reference, in whatever format, with a fresh eye. Ask yourself- How much work will it take to make this into something? Does it really represent what it was that caused me to take the picture in the first place? Is it blurry? (I tend to keep those because there still might be a hoof or other information that I can use, but I don’t use blurry images for primary reference. Or let’s just say that every time I’ve done it, I’ve regretted it.) Is it under- or over-exposed? How about the lighting? Is it interesting? Or is it flat?
4. Start a sketchbook- You know you “should”. One of my teachers in art school did a lot of storyboard work for major San Francisco ad agencies. High pay, super short deadlines, no time to shoot reference. He did a drawing a day besides whatever work he had. While I was in his class, we all did a drawing a day. I had fun using my favorite felt tip pens and also Berol color sticks, which were new for me. So it was a chance to try different media, too.
Table and chair; not easy to get the perspective rightBut no one says it has to be literally realisticI tend to do this kind of drawing with carbon or charcoal pencils in the studio, but still use felt pens on location
Exercise:For one week, do a drawing a day. Of anything. You can set up a still life, draw furniture, work from magazine photos. With any media. But draw. Then add a second week. See what happens. Send me a 500 pixel jpg of your favorite and I’ll post them here.
5. Dream your dreams- Blue sky time. If resources, monetary and otherwise, were not a factor, what would you be doing as an artist? Some of us want to paint full-time, which I am fortunate enough to be able to do. Others want a special place in their home where they can do their art or want to go to a workshop or travel to Italy or…..the possibilities are as endless as the ways artists express themselves.
Dream big, but don't miss the stuff that might be close by
Exercise: Set aside an evening and make a list. Try to be specific. Instead of just “workshop”, how about “I want to study plein air painting with…..”? Or not just “I want to travel”, but “I want to go to Kenya and see wild lions”. Then think about what steps you can take to achieve one or more of your dreams. Get on the internet and see what you can learn about how other artists have achieved their dreams, both for inspiration or ideas.
So, there you have it. Five ideas and look! It’s April already!
I had never heard of William D. Berry until I read a post about him over at James Gurney’s blog, GurneyJourney. Holy Cow, was he an incredible field artist! There is a book that covers three years of his field “sketches”, which you can buy here for the princely sum of…$8.50. This really is a book that should be in every animal artist’s library. One of the nice things he did was note whether or not a drawing was done from memory. If not so noted, they were done from live animals. To say that he thoroughly knew his subjects would be a serious understatement. Here’s a quote from the book on how he did it. Simple, really….
“What this meant was that I devoted a tremendous amount of time and energy to simply recording the facts of animal life – hundreds of hours and thousands of drawings in the zoos or in the forests, on mountains, in deserts, or plains. A caribou, for example, is never going to hold still for you, and a photograph of him, though useful for many reasons, is never going to show him doing exactly what you want him to be doing for a particular illustration (Berry also illustrated a number of field guides and other animal books) . You have to learn the beast inside-out and upside-down, so that you can put him together on the page from scratch and still have him look like he would if you did see him doing just that. So – instead of learning to paint, I was learning a hell of a lot of animals, birds, plants, whatever. I don’t feel I ever did master any mediums, except pencil – the medium I used to make field sketches.”
He used an Eagle pencil on Cameo paper (anyone know what that is or if it is still available?) which was supported by a clipboard, then sprayed the finished drawings with fixative. Here are a few pages that I particularly liked. Remember, these are all drawn from life (Sigh.):
Nationally known artist Jeremy Lipking posted this link on his Facebook profile today, which is how I found out that Bernie Fuchs has died. He, along with Robert Peak and Mark English, were three of the absolutely top illustrators of the mid to late 20th century. Peak died a few years ago, but I recently found out that Mark English (who I had the good fortune to meet and work with for a short time at his Illustration Academy in the summers of 1989 and 1990) is still alive and painting, bless his heart.
I know that most of you reading this probably have no idea who these artists are, but they have been an inspiration to generations of illustrators for their creative vision, technical excellence and the consistently breathtaking quality of their work. No one will ever again have the kind of careers that they did. The illustration field as they knew it is gone. But their work remains. I recently saw an ad for a Fuchs retrospective at the Telluride Gallery. The catalog was only $20, so I called immediately and ordered one.If there was ever an artist who deserved, but, as far as I know, never got, a big coffee table book about them and their work, Bernie Fuchs was certainly one of them.
Here is a past post in which I used Mr. Fuchs work as an example of “lost and found”.
As I am about two months out from my Mongolia trip, I’ve decided to consolidate my blog posts to Monday and then do quick updates as needed on other days of the week. For the next few months, most posts are going to have Mongolia content as I share my preparations and, with luck, the trip itself.
MONGOLIA MONDAY
I have my plane tickets and will be leaving on July 5, staying overnight in Seoul, Korea and arriving in Ulaanbaatar on the afternoon of the 7th. I’ll be taking the local United Express flight to San Francisco, Asiana to Seoul and MIAT to UB, and doing it in reverse without the overnight for my return on July 30. My current plan is to attend the National Naadam celebration in UB and then, in some order still to be determined, spend a day or two at Hustai seeing the takhi, travel to the Gun-Galuut Nature Reserve and the Baga Gazariin area to explore the argali habitat in those places, with hopes that I will be able to see and photograph them.
The one “appointment” that I have is to be at Ikh Nartiin Chuluu the week of the 20th for three days of meetings with the herder women to discuss their ideas for a crafts cooperative, which I plan to support. For this purpose, and for other projects that might come up in the future, I have established a non-profit association, Art Partnerships for Mongolian Conservation (APMC). Our mission will be to use the arts to promote conservation in Mongolia. My 501(c)3 sponsor is the Denver Zoological Foundation, which has set up an account for me so that donations made to APMC are tax-deductible. For more information, email me at sfox@foxstudio.biz.
SKETCHING VS. DRAWING
Last week I said that I would do a book review of an excellent “drawing” book. I got it out recently to use as a guide for honing my field sketching techniques for the upcoming Mongolia trip (see how it’s all dovetailing?). It’s called “Fast Sketching Techniques” by David Rankin, who, as it happens, won an AFC Flag Expedition Grant a couple of years ago to travel to the source of the Ganges River in India, one of his most favorite countries. He, dare I say it, draws a very useful distinction between drawing and sketching and does it in a way that I think encourages people to pick up a pencil and paper and give it a go.
Here’s where you can find it on Amazon, but it looks like it has gone out print, so you might end up with a good used copy. I highly recommend it. Here are a few pages to give you an idea of David’s approach. He is a signature member of the Society of Animal Artists, has been in every major wildlife art show multiple times and is an excellent teacher and “critiquer”. In short, he knows his stuff.
Book coverThe difference between drawing and sketchingQuick, simple sketches that catch the essence of the subject without getting bogged down in detailAn example of how he interprets a scene quicklyUsing pause on a tv recorder to do quick sketchesInstruction on how to work at zoos sketching animals
Next week, I’ll have post some of the sketch work I’ve been doing in order to get up to speed for the real thing.
It’s one thing to see and appreciate how other artists use techniques like “lost and found” when viewing their finished work. But I thought it might be useful to show a couple of step-by-step demonstrations of how I go about it. First, one in charcoal and then a second in oil paint.
Here’s a selection of my drawing stuff. I used a 6B Extra Soft General’s charcoal pencil for the following study, which I think just might make an interesting painting. The “stumps” on the left are used for blending. I’ll be sharing a book on sketching next week that really showed me what the stumps are good for.
Also, here is my computer set-up. My husband, bless his heart, built the platform it all sits on to my specifications. We fastened it to the IKEA desk with an office chair swivel to ensure that it could easily support the off-center weight of the iMac, which has a 24′ glossy monitor.
Using the image on the monitor, I did this value study-
The drawing is done and now I’m starting to lay in the shadow shape on the left as one mass.
All the shadow shapes are done. Notice that I haven’t put in any detail or features in the shadow, except an indication of the nostril and some of the mouth.
The finished study. The shadow area is treated as one big shape and I’ve “lost” all the rest.
Here is a second demo done in paint. The same principles apply.
The starting image; a white rhino I photographed at the Lewa Downs Coservancy, Kenya, in 2004. The light side and shadow side are very distinct.
The initial drawing. Why red? I could make up a really cool explanation, but actually I picked it up from Scott Christensen. Sometimes I use other colors depending on what I have in mind for the painting, but I tend to fall back on the red for these quick studies. One less decision to make.
Once again, I’m laying in the shadow as one big shape.
I’ve added color to the light side and also used the same tone for the background. Notice that I have left brush strokes showing for visual texture and that there are four different color temperatures in the shadow.
I’ve now covered the background with paint and picked out the lightest areas on the rhino.
The finished study, which took less than two hours. I lightened the background to pop out the shadows, added a darker tone on the left to pop out the side of the head and added some final brushstrokes at the bottom to suggest grass.
A little tired after all this? You’re not the only one:
There was a full page ad in a recent Southwest Art for a retrospective show at the Telluride Gallery of the art of legendary illustrator/artist Bernie Fuchs. At one time, he was one of the most imitated illustrators in the country due to the popularity of his “lost and found” style. There was a color catalog available and it arrived a few days ago. I was transported back to my time as an illustration student at art school, remembering how blown away I was by his work- the draftsmanship, the design and how he said so much with such simple shapes.
As I poked around my files and illustration books in my library, I was reminded of how many illustrators have made the move to “fine art” over the years, quite a few into wildlife and western art. My sister-in-law, an illustrator, and I used to play a game when we’d visit a gallery with representational work, which we thought of as “Who has illustration training?” We could generally nail it with no difficulty. Why? Impeccable draftsmanship, excellent design and a sense that the piece was done with utter confidence. Think of Bob Kuhn, Guy Coholeach, Richard Sloan, John Schoenherr, John Clymer, Howard Rogers, Kenneth Riley and Howard Terpening, to name a few who come to mind. They all had successful careers as illustrators, which meant they made a LOT of pictures, often on very tight deadlines, so they became extremely efficient; no wasted motion. And then they brought all that experience to “easel painting”, creating work that really stands out from the crowd.
I thought I’d occasionally share some of the things I learned back when I was an illustrator which have influenced and inspired me as a painter.
“Lost and found” describes a way of seeing shapes and then only adding detail where you need and want it. You “lose” and “find” edges. It’s a way to think about making a picture that can free you from painting every leaf, every hair, every blade of grass. But it takes practice and training, maybe re-training, your eye. It’s worth it because it opens up a whole new range of options for expressing yourself. Here are some examples I found, starting with Mr. Fuchs:
Notice that he hasn’t rendered a single individual leaf. But you know by the shape that it’s a tree. He’s “lost” all the leaf edges, but has “found” the backlighting. This design has only three major shapes: the tree, the background and the ground at the bottom. When you can simplify this way and see the big shapes, you gain so much control instead of letting detail control you.
Ludwig Hohlwein was a master of shape design. Too bad he was happy to do work for the Nazis. In any case, here is a camel, done in two values and mostly in shadow. Add the rider and you have three values total. Nothing more is needed. As my Illustration 2 teacher said, “The simpler statement is the stronger statement”.
Bart Forbes was working at the same time as Fuchs. He had his own take on “lost and found” and this is one of his best known images. Once again, very limited values. No excruciating rendering of the folds in the pants, but you still know exactly what they are, what color they are and that the light is coming from the left. The figure is fully defined and separated from the background by the shapes.
David Grove came along and pushed things a little farther. Now most of the edges of the figure are lost. Or you could say that the light side of the figure is found and pulled from the background. Either way, you won’t miss that plaid shirt.
Then Robert Heindel took lost and found to a whole new level with his paintings of dancers. (He also did the posters for Cats.). You have no trouble seeing what is going on. Her head is down and one leg is bent, with the edges appearing and disappearing seemingly at random, but of course it’s all carefully planned and the result of years of experience.
Most of us baby boomers have seen Bob Peak’s posters for movies like Camelot, Apocalypse Now, Rollerball, Funny Girl and Missouri Breaks. Here’s a drawing that Peak did of Robert Henri. Notice how he lets the color of the background also form the color of the suit and then only adds the shadow shapes. The fern in the back mostly has the grey tone cut in around it and is really a silhouette. The only area of color is where he wants your eye to go, Henri’s face.
Finally, sometimes you encounter an image that causes a permanent perceptual shift. This is one that did it for me, by one of my all-time favorite painters, Frank Frazetta. A lot of people never got past the subject matter, but this is someone who knew the craft of painting inside out and backwards and could draw rings around most people. He was one of the masters of lost and found. This tasty piece is painted on bare masonite! Heaven knows how archival it will be, but jeez. The warm shadow in the torso of the middle figure is the masonite showing through. I was totally blown away when I realized what he had done. Now this was before I was able to go to any major art museums and once I did, I saw that letting the ground show through is a classical approach that has been around for a long time. Another reason why it’s so important to see originals. Fragonard did a famous painting of a girl in a yellow dress, reading. The warm shadow on her back is the ground showing, same as in the Frazetta, except it was a paint layer, not the support itself. Maybe that’s where Frazetta got the idea. He just did it with Neanderthals instead of a pretty girl.