Robert Genn: On finding form
On finding form
Up there on the scaffold we have Michelangelo shouting, "Form, form, form!" And then there's Gustave Flaubert writing in French: "Art is nothing without form." These commands might have you think form is everything. It is, just about. Here are a few ideas perhaps worth considering:
In portrait work, John Singer Sargent tried to find the facial form in the first few minutes and, if he didn't, he scraped it off and started over. Sometimes, for him, finding a likeness took a dozen scrapings. This effort contrasts with the more common practice of getting a face just about right, then massaging it into a better one. Trouble is, it usually goes the other way and gets worse.
Steeped in eternal mystery, this phenomenon has dogged painters throughout history, and there are probably tens of thousands being dogged by it right this very minute. Chilling thought.
Painters are well advised to render focal areas (such as faces) with high attention to form. Like Sargent, take it slowly and carefully at first. Even in the early stages of abstract work, painterly laziness is out of the question. Funnily, those Sargent faces are more the product of a scientific processing of shapes than as an exercise of born genius. "Catching" something like a likeness is gaining understanding of the distances between things rather than the lines around.
Teeth are not individual incisors and bicuspids; they are a curve of relative whiteness set in relationship to a uniquely formed facial opening.
Eyes are not eyeliner or colourful irises. They are dimensional sockets of significance in mystery and meaning.
Why all this talk about form in portraiture? Because every work we perform has a face or a focus. It's generally called the "centre of interest." This focus can be a tree, a Precambrian boulder, a horse, a barn or a goldfinch. Artists are well advised to determine this focal point and put some effort into its rendition.
Then, happily, even goofily, they can take a cue from Sargent and put all manner of formlessness, suggestion and illusion into the surround. Big surprise and benefit here: Form floating on formlessness takes on more form.
Best regards,
Robert
PS: "When the whole and the parts are seen at once, as mutually producing and explaining each other, as unity in multeity, there results shapeliness." (Samuel Taylor Coleridge)
Esoterica: Now think for a minute of situations where known forms have been abstracted or otherwise manipulated. Though some of those forms may appear strange, they may lead us to believe in their possibilities. Is this not part of the artist's job as well? "An illustrational form," said Francis Bacon, "tells you through the intelligence immediately what the form is about, whereas a non-illustrational form works first upon sensation and then slowly leaks back into the fact."
In portrait work, John Singer Sargent tried to find the facial form in the first few minutes and, if he didn't, he scraped it off and started over. Sometimes, for him, finding a likeness took a dozen scrapings. This effort contrasts with the more common practice of getting a face just about right, then massaging it into a better one. Trouble is, it usually goes the other way and gets worse.
Steeped in eternal mystery, this phenomenon has dogged painters throughout history, and there are probably tens of thousands being dogged by it right this very minute. Chilling thought.
Painters are well advised to render focal areas (such as faces) with high attention to form. Like Sargent, take it slowly and carefully at first. Even in the early stages of abstract work, painterly laziness is out of the question. Funnily, those Sargent faces are more the product of a scientific processing of shapes than as an exercise of born genius. "Catching" something like a likeness is gaining understanding of the distances between things rather than the lines around.
Teeth are not individual incisors and bicuspids; they are a curve of relative whiteness set in relationship to a uniquely formed facial opening.
Eyes are not eyeliner or colourful irises. They are dimensional sockets of significance in mystery and meaning.
Why all this talk about form in portraiture? Because every work we perform has a face or a focus. It's generally called the "centre of interest." This focus can be a tree, a Precambrian boulder, a horse, a barn or a goldfinch. Artists are well advised to determine this focal point and put some effort into its rendition.
Then, happily, even goofily, they can take a cue from Sargent and put all manner of formlessness, suggestion and illusion into the surround. Big surprise and benefit here: Form floating on formlessness takes on more form.
Best regards,
Robert
PS: "When the whole and the parts are seen at once, as mutually producing and explaining each other, as unity in multeity, there results shapeliness." (Samuel Taylor Coleridge)
Esoterica: Now think for a minute of situations where known forms have been abstracted or otherwise manipulated. Though some of those forms may appear strange, they may lead us to believe in their possibilities. Is this not part of the artist's job as well? "An illustrational form," said Francis Bacon, "tells you through the intelligence immediately what the form is about, whereas a non-illustrational form works first upon sensation and then slowly leaks back into the fact."