Susan Roux Workshop 2012

Monarda

Original oil painting  18x24"

by Susan Roux

You're invited!

I'll be teaching an oil painting workshop in August and would love it if you'd join us in three days of fun with color! The focus of the workshop will be on Color and Value and it's purpose with regards to design.

It will be three days packed with exploring color. Come stimulate yourself as we dive fearlessly into luscious color! Learn to add excitement to your paintings while remaining in control. 

Do you fear color? Are you having trouble with color harmony when using too many? Are you limiting yourself for fear of not achieving harmony otherwise? How about neutralizing? Is making mud a problem? 

Then this workshop is for you!

I'll be explaining many properties of color to help you understand it, thus help you keep it in control. 

Free yourself by allowing your inner creativity to unleash on canvas. Learn to add visual excitement to your work. Let your paintbrush dance on the canvas. Don't be so preoccupied about staying within the lines and achieving harmony will become an ease. 

I'll encourage you to apply paint in various ways to help you expand your choices of brushstrokes. We'll be working wet into wet. As the paint gets thicker on the canvas, we can begin to push and pull paint around. Drag your brush, twist your brush, just let it dance on the canvas! Free your spirited energy to just pour out.

Depending how tight or loose you want to keep your paintings, I'll show you how to bring this burst of color into shape. Color and value work together to create the illusion of light, depth and form. As a unit, they can help direct the viewers eye around the canvas, adding power to the overall design. 

This workshop is intended for all levels. 

Come to Maine during the dog days of summer and deepen your understanding of color!

Hope to see you soon...

For further information click here.

Note: You may remember seeing the distance in this painting. It was posted in February before the entire painting was complete. This painting is at Blue Hill Bay Gallery in Blue Hill, Maine. For purchasing information, please contact Peter. 

Critique, yes or no?

Lupines in the Sky

Work in progress

10x30" gallery wrap

by Susan Roux

Where do you stand on the subject of critique?

My last post showed a painting before a critique and where I pushed it following a critique. A good critique is priceless, in my opinion. I wish I had one for every painting I paint. I find it elevates my work to new heights. It keeps me pushing, trying to achieve something beyond where I previously stopped. Just last night Mike and I were discussing this and he wished he had to a good photographer friend who could give him a good critique.

Odd thing is, as much as we would like to be continually critiqued, there are many who are opposed to it. It takes a tough skin to listen to your creative work be interpreted by another. We become tied and connected to the things we create.

It's a reflection of ourselves. Who has the right to tell us what's wrong with it?

Rejection in any form is difficult. It can knock the wind right out of you. But I don't think of a good critique as a rejection. Quite the contrary. When someone takes the time to analyze a work they usually already have an attraction to it. The critique isn't designed to crush an artist, but to urge him (her) to think of it in different terms and possibly see it differently as well. We get very close to our work. Especially those of us who work a painting for an extended period of time. So much of ourselves is invested in it.

Though just as love is blind, so often is the artist who has a certain goal in mind. We'll set parameters for ourselves. Things like a limited palette or brushstroke edges. Some soft, some hard, some blurred, some bold and distinct. We can focus so hard on certain aspects of our work, that we'll easily miss other things. Things we already know. They slip from memory temporarily. A good critique allows you to retain what you've captured and helps you push it to an even stronger finish.

Imagine all the paintings you've ever painted. If you could take the best things from them and put it all together in one work of art, wouldn't that be wonderful? This is the critique to me. No one is teaching you how to paint it, only allowing you the insight to add a bit more and turn your work into a wow. It's never about repainting the entire painting (though Don's sent me to do that a few times as well...). It's about taking what you have and adjusting it. It might be defining something or dulling something. Perhaps adding a punch of color or contrast.

There exists a fear of loosing what we've already captured and ruining it. Loosing that look of freshness. Getting it overworked. But returning to a painting for adjustments needn't be done with your largest brushes. Often tweaking with something tiny that can be blended with the existing work will do the trick.

The other factor that comes up in conversation is the qualifications of the one critiquing.

Yes, I'm very fortunate to have Don Hatfield as my mentor and critique-er. (I can make up words, right?) Yes, he is highly qualified. But often the gut instinct of someone not highly qualified can be as helpful. Your kids can be very honest. Painfully so sometimes when they don't get what this part is. Even after you explain it to them and they tell you well it doesn't look like that.

You'd be surprised how many people can give you a good critique. Many of us have the knowledge, it's getting it on canvas that's the challenge!

So where do you stand on critique? Is it a gift or an insult?

Paint a story

Coming Out

Original oil painting 24x18"

by Susan Roux

A blogging-writer friend recently sent me an excerpt from a book she's writing. It's a very rough draft she told me. I have to tell you it was very interesting to experience the work in progress. I've never stopped to think about writers and their creative process, but suddenly I couldn't get it off my mind.

It fascinated me how the idea she created needed to be "hatched" before outlines and chapters could be written. Just reading a short bit opened my eyes to how the many pieces of the process come together. It gave me a glimpse into her idea and made my imagination run wild, almost to the point of making me feel like I wanted to write this story...

But who am I kidding?

The funny thing was, afterwards I couldn't shake it from my mind. As though clear as freshly washed glass, I realized the aspects that make art good are the same aspects needed in all forms of art, be it writing, dancing, singing etc. The comparisons flooded my head...

Words, like brushstrokes, could be colorful or dull and grouped together to suggest a unified idea. Every paragraph, every chapter needs a focal point. Needless brushstrokes or words only get in the way, busying up the composition. Making it hard to follow. The more I thought of these things, the clearer and clearer creating art became to me.

It's not about painting a girl or a fruit or a tree. We learn to do that very early on in our painting lives. The juice of the matter is to capture these elements with passion. The colors, the strokes we use need to be so unified that a single one missing would render it incomplete. Imagine a song with a crucial note missing? Everything must work harmoniously together, supporting one main idea.

More than an idea, really.

A painting must tell a story. It's what pulls the viewer in, lets their imagination run free therefore keeping them engaged.

A book must paint a picture. It's what pulls the reader in, lets their imagination run free therefore keeping them engaged.

It's the same thing. But with a switch. The painter must tell a story and the writer, paint a picture. As painters we are not painting pictures. Why didn't anyone tell me this years ago? We are telling a story with paint. All you writers, you are not writing a story. You are painting a picture with words. Why was this easier to see through a different form of art?

So in conclusion, if you can follow my skewed way of thinking, artist should be grouped with writers. They'll be the ones who'll let us know if we told a story. Conversely, writers should be grouped with painters so we can help them paint a picture. After all we know how to paint a picture. We could be very helpful with that.

Paint a story. A passionate story.

Now that's a challenge. Go find yourselves writers to help you.

Note: Coming Out was painted from a black and white photo. It's the first time I've attempted this and found it to be completely freeing! Colors weren't dictated at all. How would I have painted such a rainbow hat with suggested colors hampering my imagination?

The endless journey

Warm Breeze

Original oil painting 20x16"

by Susan Roux

An artists journey is an interesting one to say the least. As we progress down the many winding roads of this journey, we come to realize that the end of the journey only exists if we choose to stop. Otherwise the journey is endless. Meaning that the more we know, the more we discover or are educated about art, the more we realize that there is still further to go. I don't care how masterful an artist may be, there is always more to learn.

I've been very fortunate this past year. I've seen my art evolve through experimentation and hard work. For those of you who follow me, you also know this improvement is due in large part to Don Hatfield. He has been a constant who keeps me focused and stimulated by opening my eyes to things I hadn't yet observed on my own.

If you can't see it, you can't paint it.

I repeat this phrase over and over. I feel a vision needs to exist, whether in our minds or through our eyes. Until you observe the light and the shadow, you cannot paint the light and the shadow. The same is true for all aspects of painting. If you can't see it or don't have the ability to break down what it is exactly that you're observing, it is impossible to replicate it in paint.

I'm not just referring to the representation of objects in one's work. I'm also referring to the emotion an artist has towards these objects. In fine art, it isn't simply representation that is necessary. It isn't only about a pretty picture. Fine art also captures emotion.

The emotion we capture is created by many factors. Color, brushstroke and values play a huge part. But a vision or understanding of the emotion you wish to portray needs to be present. Without the vision, the idea, it will not happen.

And so it goes... This is the great mystery, the giant labyrinth that we call the artist journey. It's a combined mesh of skill, observation and emotion. The variables are endless making the combination of the parts endless as well. So where are you on this journey?

I ran across an excerpt today by Barry John Raybould in his Virtual Art Academy. It opened my eyes to a level that I've yet to discover. It's perhaps a direction I'll need to focus on if I want to continue improving. But it seems a difficult step, so don't be expecting too much in this direction from me yet... Here is the excerpt.

Old master artists knew how to suggest a lot of detail without actually rendering it. Look closely at any of John Singer Sargent's paintings and you will notice that an elegant dress is no more than a series of abstract brushstrokes. If you make your viewers exercise their own imagination, you stimulate them to contribute their own thoughts and images to the work and become a participant in the experience. If you depict everything to make it look like a photograph, you leave nothing up to the imagination of the viewer. The other big advantage of the principle of suggestion is that once again you can say more with less, simplifying and strengthening the abstract design of your painting.

The abstract he refers to in John Singer Sargent's dresses is more than just a loose stroke. It's also a combination of loose color. Both of these combined creates the abstracts he speaks about that stimulate the viewer's imagination. Phew, do I have your head spinning yet? Mine is.

The endless journey... I wouldn't have it any other way.

Nora in Naples

Nora Kasten and Susan Roux

Hello, I'm back from Florida! I hope you all had a good week. I'm relaxed, refreshed and ready to paint! Thank you all for the warm wishes for a great vacation. It certainly was.

Nora Kasten was so kind as to invite my family and I to her home. How wonderful it was to visit with a fellow blogger! Posted is a photo of us in her studio. Her work in progress is up on her easel behind us. I'm certain I'm not alone in admiring her lovely, romantic oil paintings. I can't tell you how excited I was to have the opportunity to view them in person. I must tell you, Nora is as lovely as the work that pours out of her.

Her home is a dream gallery! I never expected to arrive at such a splendid place filled with dozens and dozens of her amazing paintings. Room after room she took me to see them all. It was a slow tour as I absolutely had to stop to admire each and every one of them! They are magnificent on the internet, but as you well know, a photo of a painting never does the actual work justice. In life, these jewels sent shivers up my spine. Her use of saturated color coupled with her dreamy brushstroke is energizing and captivating. I couldn't take my eyes off of them!

She treated us to a lovely lunch where I sipped red wine and our "get acquainted" conversation never left art. I've written to you before of my travels and how I meet with artists. I urge you to try it for yourself. It will become the highlight of your holiday! Art connects us. Its a bond that can instantly make you feel like family. You all experience it here through blogs, but it doesn't stop when you meet in person. It escalates!

If you'd like to read about some of my various experiences meeting artists, click these different entries. Don't give up, where I met and painted with artists Mat Grogan and Dave Hayes, John Morris and Owen Rohu.

You may think that you'd be lost for conversation meeting with a stranger, but believe me, in every instance time just flies and conversations flow easily and freely. As Nora and I talked endlessly, she played a DVD of Richard Schmid with the volume off. In one direction I viewed him creating a masterpiece and in every other direction my eye was fed and stimulated by all her exhibited art. Her kind, welcoming and bubbly nature made us feel instantly at home.

The four hours we spent together whizzed by. I didn't want to leave. Nora, I hope I didn't overstay my welcome. You and your husband were a delight. Thank you for making us feel so welcomed.

I must tell you, Nora has painted countless self portraits. They are all wonderful and full of light. One of my favorite paintings hung as a focal point, in a place of grandeur. It is a painting she did of her husband some years back. I absolutely loved what she captured with paint. Men sitting in their suits don't usually hold much appeal for me. But his kindness and her affection for him shown with great visibility through the paint she applied. Nora, I don't know if you've ever posted this masterpiece of yours, but I hope you find it appropriate to share at some point. Its a wonderful work that can be appreciated even if you're not the wife...

Thank you Nora. I hope our journey forward blossoms further than blogging. I truly enjoyed our conversation and hope to continue it.

(Photograph by Michael McAllister)

I didn't mean to...

I lied.

I don't usually, but last night I did. I started this painting with my wonderful Wednesday night ladies. Just before leaving, one chuckled that I would continue working my sky and present a very different look next week. I immediately told her, "No. I never touch a class painting outside of class."

Sorry Tricia, I lied.

In the overly-used words of my son, "I didn't mean to..."

Really, I didn't. Its just this morning the colors were not at all what I remembered from last night. There's a very fine line between softness and no contrast. While attempting to soften my punched colors, I ended up by washing it all out! I really needed to correct it while the paint was wet.

Otherwise, I would have saved my corrections as part of our next lesson...

Unfortunately the camera lies too. Much more than I do, actually. The image posted reflects none of the soft transitions between colors. Isn't that a maddening thing for all artists? We work so hard to adjust every value, every color, every stroke, to capture what's in our hearts. A constant battle to project ourselves on canvas... And from reading many of your posts, it is a battle indeed. (But a battle we sure do love!)

All of this passionate energy, poured out, ends up at the mercy of the camera. Do you know of an artist who was ever pleased with their images? I don't. But there is a very encouraging "nice side" to this dilemma.

There will never be a reproduction that surpasses the actual work.

Our originals will always be in sole possession of that "magic" we captured. All that feeling. All those subtle nuances. All those juicy brushstrokes and thick paint you could lick like frosting. No camera will ever be capable of capturing it all.

And that life. That wonderful "life of its own" an original painting has. The way it reflects light and changes as you walk by it or as the darkness falls upon it. Its not only Thomas Kincade's paintings that change with low light, as he would have the public believing. We all know it affects every work.

So be proud of your accomplishments. Your original works. Nothing will ever compare to the greatness you captured while toiling in front of your easel!

Ocean Roses 4

Ocean Roses

by Susan Roux

Original oil painting 16x20"

I confess... We have too much fun during painting class. I think we laugh more than we paint! But somehow in the midst of all our silliness we managed to complete our painting last night. I have them all posted. Class, sorry I couldn't adjust the colors correctly. Reds and hot pinks are the hardest...

Note: Everyone's painting looks softer than this shows.

Last week we thought we might finish, but another session was necessary. Everyone's work needed adjusting in different areas. To bring a painting to completion can be tricky. Knowing when to stop is often difficult. Its easier when someone else tells you to. (Paint with a friend, they'll do you the favor.) Looking at one's work objectively interferes with the passion we develop for it while painting. Abandoning your photo reference becomes necessary. At some point, everything that is already captured on canvas dictates what needs to come next. I like to stand back and squint a bit to find little areas that need adjusting.

The big question I put out there is, "What bugs you? What bother's you about your painting? Which spot?"

Those are the areas that need tweaking. Its that magical moment when you take all the energy you put into creating your work and bring it to a final statement. As a teacher, its that final moment of judgement.

"What can I say to this student that will help them enhance their work at this late stage?" Its the point of making it or breaking it.

As you can clearly see, all the students made it!

I was very pleased with the results of their hard work and silliness. Everyone brought some of themselves into their canvases. I always like how even though we use the same image and they follow along closely with me, a uniqueness emerges in every one. We talked about that last night.

The brushes we choose. The way we load the paint on them. Is it thin. Is it thick. How we apply the paint to the canvas. A delicate touch. A hard thrust. All these elements play a part in the "signature" our work takes on. I'm always fascinated that even with a person's first canvas, this signature appears. This one-of-a-kind brushstroke makes its debut right from the start. You can paint for years and really hone your skills, but look back where you began and you'll find similarities in your stroke.

I'd like to present my students work. They did great, don't you think? Remember they're all beginners...

Paul

Jen

Clint

Class, bring a new canvas next week. We're starting another one!

Anyone else care to join us?

(Photographs by Michael McAllister)

Ocean Roses

Ocean Roses

(in progress by Susan Roux)

This is an unfinished painting. I'm working on it with my beginner students. I wanted to give you a glimpse at the wonderful work they do. I hope to keep you posted at different intervals, to the completed painting. If my students allow, I'll post their finished paintings as well.

This is the work of my Tuesday night class. These students have painted only one painting, the beginner class this fall. A few students have ventured out to paint on their own at home, but for the most part, this is their second painting. My more advanced class thought I was brutal to give such a complicated scene to beginners. Honestly, I think they are doing marvelous with it so far.

Five students follow along as I explain colors, placement, composition and the "why" behind everything I have them do. We've worked on this for 3 sessions now, for a total of 6 hours. I've been so impressed with how well they've progressed. Each session, we cover more than I imagined we would.

Classes are fun and exciting. The jokes, laughs and giggles fly around the room continually keeping spirits light and playful. I think part of that "fun" shows up on our canvases. It affects the colors we choose and the relaxed brushstroke we use. The biggest challenge for me is to simplify everything so much that it can be understood and done even by a beginner. With each class I teach, the simplification gets easier.

We scribble paint. We scribble lots of paint! I get accused of being a very good scribbler, but you will be surprised to see their end products...

They scribble well too!

I am under the belief that anyone can do this. All that is needed is the desire. Perhaps they wouldn't all have the ability to become masters, but certainly enough to enjoy the process and be pleased with the end result. I'm very thankful for my students. They are a big part of my life and I look forward to their coming every week. Its been such a rewarding experience for me.

So my students, if you're reading, thank you...