Photos lie

I have said before to small and large groups who would listen, and I say again: "Photos lie." This is not meant to disparage photography, which can operate very well as an art form in the hands of a capable and experienced photographer. But for the "great unwashed" (including myself) who have gotten our hands on a camera and use it to record impressions of the world around us, it's important to know its limitations.

The picture inserted here of two small children on a beach is something I've worked on entirely from a photocopy of a photo. I started the painting on an unstretched canvas in acrylic and I'm now working over the initial acrylic in oil to enhance the small subtle details.

I recently received a publication put out by Golden Acrylic Colors which contains some substantiating information. I quote below.

"Acrylic paints can be used to create colorful and detailed surfaces on which to add a digital print. This method works around the color-gamut limitations inherent in digital printing, which ultimately still relies on a four-color CMYK process. For example, even newer 6 color systems like Epson’s Ultrachrome™ inks, create expanded ink sets by merely adding transparent versions of Cyan, Magenta, and different Blacks to the base selection. Acrylics, on the other hand, have access to hundreds of individual pigments that can be further modified with Gels and Mediums to generate any degree of translucency you might desire. This provides you with a tremendous amount of control and leaves a significant range of colors, including the special effects of GOLDEN Iridescent and Interference paints, beyond the reach of printing inks alone. The same is true with texture, where you can use acrylic Gels, Mediums and Pastes to produce a wide variety of surfaces that impart a tactile presence not easily achieved by other means."

Many of my current students are using acrylics, and for them I recommend looking the above publication on-line fully. It covers some of the capabilities of Acrylics.

But more generally, and on the theme of "photography lies" I would like to point out that the "gamut" or range of color used in photographs is limited by the inks used to produce them. Those inks are limited by the printing process. Many of you now own inkjet printers and you know that if you want to print out a color print, you have to have four colors (or a maximum of 6 in the newer printers): cyan, magenta, yellow and black. Any color in the scene you are capturing by camera will be normalized to fit some mixture of the three colors and black that your printer contains.

Any artist knows, however, that, unless you choose to paint with a limited palette, you have a much larger variety of colors available. And, in your original paintings (whether it is in acrylic, oil, watercolor, pastel) you have the ability to use this wide range of colors to either duplicate the "reality" that you see in nature or create your own vision.

In addition, acrylics have a wide range of auxillary capabilities: (iridescents, interference colors, textures and pastes) that the photographic or printing field is currently totally unable to capture. (You can see more about this in the above-referenced publication or get on a mailing list to receive the Just Paint newsletter by going to Golden Acrylics homepage and filling out the e-form located in "What's New.")

As a last note, however, although it is frequently practical to work from photos when learning or practicing the art of painting, keep in mind that the information contained in a photo is severely limited. Therefore, my advice is: (1) when possible, whether painting a scene, a still life or a portrait, paint from the thing itself; (2) when working from photos, take your own reference photos and remember that even they lie and; (3) keep in mind that the "reality" of your art is yours to create.

Stretching a canvas

A student asked me the other day how to stretch a canvas. Many people buy pre-stretched canvases these days since they are readily available. However, if you are doing a number of "exercises" it is less expensive to work on a piece of unstretched canvas mounted on a drawing board or other support with masking tape. (I've even known some artists, who like to work very large, to mount a canvas directly to the (wallboard) wall of their studio with plastic under the canvas, using staples. Then, when finished, they stretch the canvas.

If you are working on unstretched canvas, and you want to be able to stretch it when finished if it comes out good, leave at least 2 inches all around the finished face of the canvas. The easy way to do this is to take a stretched canvas (or a pair of stretchers) and mark the profile of the artwork on the piece of canvas you will be using.

When you have an image that you want to stretch, you will need a heavy duty stapler, a pair of canvas pliers (not absolutely necessary for a small canvas if you have strong fingers but it does make things easier) and a pair of stretchers. Make sure that the stretchers are absolutely square, using a T-square or just putting the assembled pieces into a frame to ensure that they are all at right angles. You can put a couple of staples through each corner to ensure that they stay true. Nothing is more discouraging than to complete your stretching project only to discover that it's not a regular rectangle but some sort of wierd parallelogram.


Start the process of stretching by positioning the image on the stretchers and then putting a staple in the middle point of each side (as shown). Note: the traditional method was to use tacks. Staples have replaced them since they are easier. If you choose to use tacks, use the copper tacks. They don't rust.

Don't pull the canvas "too" tight. You don't want to break the paint film by straining it. Just make sure that it's taut in the middle.



Once the 4 sides have one tack and you have ascertained that the image is not askew, begin to move out from the middle on all sides in turn, putting a tack on each side of the middle tack on first one side, then the other, then the two opposing sides. There's no particular science to this. Just make sure, as you go along, that you are keeping the canvas taut in the middle.


At the corners, make a neat flat tuck and staple in position.

Finally, pull the excess canvas around to the back of the stretcher and staple in position. (Note: you'll find that many of the commercial stretched canvases cut off the excess canvas. I don't recommend this because it makes re-stretching (should you ever need to do that) difficult. The "better" commercially available canvases have begun turning and tacking the excess canvas.



As a last note, many commercial canvases now being marketed are called "gallery style" canvases and don't have any staples on the sides. The canvas is wrapped around the side with no staples and tucked in the stretchers at the back. This is in keeping with the popular push to paint the sides of a canvas and omit the use of a frame entirely. I don't know how to either prepare this kind of stretched canvas or to unstretch it if I wanted to. Being old and conservative (yes, finally I admit it!), I tend to avoid this and pay for frames. A good reasonable source for frames is Graphik Dimensions, whose on-line store is called pictureframes.com. They include a range of prices. While you can buy online, I recommend sending for their catalog by calling 1-800-221-0262. (I am not being paid to advertise them).

Depth of Field and the Landscape Artist

One aspect of depth perception not covered in my essay on depth The Third Dimension is depth of field.

Depth of field is covered for the photographer in a handy little summary in a booklet called How to Use Your Digital Camera’s Settings by David Schloss as follows:

“If you look at something near you …your eyes automatically adjust themselves so that only the objects you’re looking at are in focus. Switch to looking at a faraway object, and the eye automatically adjusts again, making the distant object instantaneously snap into focus while the nearby things fall into blurriness. Your camera, however, doesn’t have these limitations.

“In both of these cases, all the object within a few inches of the subject are in focus, but outside that range they get progressively blurrier. Our eyes have a shallow depth of field, meaning that the portion (depth) of our view (our field) that is in focus is relatively small…. Your camera doesn’t have this limitation, though, and, depending on the lens, the amount of your photograph that can be in focus at any one time can be vast.”

Now, there’s two points of interest here.

First, because we are so used to looking at the world around us, re-focusing as we shift our vision, we may forget to take into account focal length when painting from the world around us. While “focal point” as a subject is broader than this essay, certainly part of establishing a focal point in a painting depends on being willing to make some part of the canvas sharper (more in focus) than other parts.

Secondly, if — as many artists today do — we take advantage of the camera to record scenes that we can later paint at leisure, we may be forgetting that the camera is indiscriminate when set for wide-angle or point-and-shoot.

I am not one of those proponents of never using photography. It has a lot of benefits as far as I’m concerned, including not having to do battle with bees or weather the weather. But the limits of photography as source material for the visual artist, whatever medium you work in, should be kept in mind. One of those limitations is indiscriminate depth of field.

Pricing your art

The following was written as an answer to a fellow artist looking for advice and is posted here for discussion.

Pricing is very personal. Base it on concepts like exchange, what the market will bear, and what you're willing to part with your art for. Take into consideration how long it takes you to paint a painting and what you want or need per hour for your work. Establish your "wholesale price" as the least you want to part with a painting for. The “retail price” should be at least double that depending on what gallery you're in. Some US galleries take 60% and it’s well worth it for a gallery that really sells. My experience is that it's easier to sell your work through a gallery because people assume that the gallery personnel have made important decisions about product viability. People don't usually trust their own intuition. Also, you need to take into account how fast you want to sell. Price lower if you're prolific and you want turnover.

There's another consideration. How long a time do you expect to be in the business of art? I’m 62 now, I've begun thinking about what will happen to my paintings when I die. I mean, I intend to live to at least 85, but who knows. At some point, I will make a list of relatives, buyers, students, and friends and invite them to "have" a painting just to give the paintings a home. (Somewhat like having a cat.) (Those of you reading this who are my friends and students better make sure you let me know when you move!)

In short, pricing art is a personal thing. I would suggest that you browse local galleries and outdoor shows and see if you can get an idea of what the "market price " is. What are people asking? Are they selling?

I sell as high as $3400 for large commissioned work. On the other hand, I've recently begun selling small early pieces (16 x 20 and less) on eBay for much less. I decided to try it just to see if there was some kind of market. There was. But browsing through the eBay art market was very discouraging at first because there's so MUCH out there for sale and so little of it sells. I was surprised to find that I have a certain kind of art (sort of impressionist landscape) that apparently fits the market. It is possible that the people who buy go look at my website and bio and decide to buy based on my background and awards. I've sold 6 pieces now and I consider it a viable outlet for older smaller pieces. If you want to see what I offer at any time, just do a search on ebay.com for COULTER. (That’s my signature name.)

The beauty spot

Saturday, December 24, we had incredibly mild weather, and I called my outdoor painting buddy and we went out to paint at what he calls "The Beauty Spot" along the Potomac River above Great Falls. This is referred to as "Plein Air Painting". It was popularized during the time of the French Impressionists, and you may have thought (if you knew anything about it) that they simply came up with this brilliant idea to paint their pictures "on the spot." In fact, however, the ability to paint on location was facilitated by a technological advance: the production of colors in tubes. Before that time, dry colors had to be ground into the paint in the studio prior to painting. It was the production of tube colors and the availability of a wider range of colors than previously that allowed the radical change in how the painter could paint. (Oh, and by the way, the impressionists didn't — as popularly supposed — complete all their paintings on location. Investigation has uncovered that some of them worked on their paintings long after the event.)

In any case, Saturday, I headed out to the Beauty spot, and Jack and I each painted two paintings. And he will tell you that my second painting owes its existance to him, because I was happy to pack up after the first and he was eager to continue. Here they are, each 11 x 14:

Potomac above Great Falls VA, Dec 24, 2005


The Beauty Spot, Potomac, Dec. 2005

Second sight-size portrait

I have completed the second series of sittings in Joe Trigiani's class and this time he made it a little bit more difficult. This sitter wears glasses. Painting the eyes with glasses on is more difficult because the eyes are a key element (my opinion) of the personality of the sitter. It's not for nothing that they are referred to as the windows to the soul. In this instance, I painted what I could see of the darks and lights and then, towards the end, added some of the highlights and dark areas that "signal" that the wearer has glasses on, being careful not to "overpaint" a closed shape. The impression of the glasses is enough in a culture which is familiar with glasses.

As with the last painting, I am not entirely satisfied with the result, and feel that, if I had only had one more session, the result would have been better. But then who knows. I have known students who went way past the point they should have on a painting they were finishing, thus ruining something that communicated. There is a principle there. You want to employ the amount of technical skill required to communicate the message, No more. To attempt perfection may result in no communication. In any case, the "work of art" is a communication between artist and viewer. I feel it helps to leave something for the viewer to contribute. This principle is derived from my reading of the essay "Art" by L. Ron Hubbard.

Oh, another point about this painting that you might find of interest: There is a very orange reflection under the chin of the sitter. My husband felt my rendition was extreme. But, with the bright studio light turned full on her, the reflection of her red shirt under her chin was close to florescent. I swear it.

Leafy Tunnel, Little Falls Creek — Notes

Leafy Tunnel Little Falls Creek just sold on eBay. A few words about this little painting.

I was about 30 years old when I painted this, I think. I was between jobs and living with my mother in Bethesda MD just across the district line and Little Falls Creek ran behind a tall apartment building across the street from her condo at 4620 N. Park Ave. By walking around the side of the apartment building and climbing down a fairly steep path, we found a shady spot to paint some nature in the middle of the city. The day that I painted this picture, mother had gone to work and I found that I had run completely out of Cadmium Yellow. I was determined to paint, however, so I used Naples Yellow (a pale and slightly muted yellow) instead. That accounts for the overall cool look of the painting. It was painted all in one sitting. The very visible brushwork is typical of my early work, as I was strongly influenced by Cezanne and the impressionists.

I offer some of my paintings periodically on eBay. If you're interested in my work, go to ebay.com and do a search on COULTER. That's my signature name and I include it in each listing.

Jennifer after the third sitting

As I said in the last post, the portrait had been worked on for 2 sittings. In the third sitting, Jennifer came in with a different blouse, explaining that her floors were being re-done and she hadn't been able to get into the house. I could have chosen to keep the turtleneck, but I liked the compostion better with more of her neck revealed. You'll notice in this third sitting that, while the background is filled in, it has been done rather quickly. As I told Joe, I could have used several more sittings.



The photo is fairly small, so here is a detail of the face. I am impressed with this method of working on a portrait. I particularly like mixing the two basic face colors in advance and then varying them just slightly on the palette. Variations included the use of alizarin crimson, ultramarine blue, green, Van Dyke Brown, perhaps other colors in very small amounts to capture the shadow tones and reflections in the face. I have never worked this way, but have always mixed each color as I worked. For a portrait this method promotes more integrity.

Portrait color palette

I posted this originally on a short-lived yahoo group. Forgive me if you've seen it before.

Currently, I am taking a portrait painting course with Joe Trigiani at the Loudoun Academy. He recommends a much more extensive palette than I usually use. His supply list can be found at: http://www.loudounacademy.org/supplylisttrigianipaint.html.

Joe uses mostly Gamblin colors as part of his extended portrait palette, including Soft Mixing White (Winsor Newton), Hansa Yellow Deep, Naples Yellow Hue, Yellow Ochre, Napthol Scarlet, Quinaridone Red, Alizarin Crimson, Indian Red (Winsor Newton), Burnt Sienna, Raw Sienna (Winsor Newton), Raw Umber, Transparent Earth Orange, Permanent Green Light, Phthalo Green, Dioxazine Purple, Cerulean Blue, Cobalt Blue, Phthalo Blue, Ultramarine Blue, Ivory Black.

Not all of these colors are laid out on the palette. For the first lesson, using a brunette, he laid out only the following paints on his palette:

Soft mixing white, naples yellow, cadmium yellow, yellow ochre, napthol crimson, Indian Red, Alizarin Crimson, dioxizine purple, burnt sienna, ultramarine blue and Van Dyke Brown. He later recommended Permanent Green light for use in the shadow tones. Joe uses them to blend into two "base colors" that he mixes up before starting to paint the model, and which he varies based on the color of the model's skin.

These are basically:

(1). a light skin tone, made from white, cad yellow, yellow ochre, and napthol crimson. (You can use Cadmium Red medium instead of Napthol Crimson.)

(2). A shadow flesh, made from the light skin tone above but adding more Nathol Crimson, More Indian Red, dioxizine purple, and ultramarine blue.

We used a sight-size method of painting, where the easel is placed on the same plane as the model, but each stroke is mixed from about 9 feet back and laid on the canvas by walking forward, and then returning back to mix the next stroke. The picture here shows the model stand and one of the students' easels. Notice that the model stand is not ideal. Ideally, the stand would be high enough to place the model's head right next to the canvas when viewed from a distance. Here, the stand is too high.

The student artists are then instructed to stand back (about 9 feet, I believe) and locate one discrete area of color and mix that exact color, move forward, and place that color shape on the canvas. The form is built slowly by repeating these steps, never mixing color or applying more than one stroke at a time while standing directly at the canvas. Given this restriction, I was surprised but pleased to see the form of the head actually appear. Please note that I always paint standing or sitting right at the canvas and this was a radical change for me. The thumbnail picture shown here wastaken after the second 2 and a half hour session. We worked on this model for three sessions, and I think, for a finished portrait, we could well have worked for 6 sessions. The third session, she came without the turtleneck because her floors were being finished and she was unable to get into her house. The v-neck she wore actually gave a more interesting composition, and I'll post it when I have taken a photo.

A slightly different version of this post is posted on my website as Lesson 38. It has larger pictures if you'd like to check it out.

The Watering Can

A recent painting I wanted to share.