Blog

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Lipetsk.  

Oh, wait, I need to qualify - it's one of THOSE days again.   Where I say I'm in the studio,  but I'm actually in the inspiration studio.  "What on earth are you talking about?" I hear you ask. (!!)  "Inspiration studio???!!!"

Let's begin at the beginning, or as close as is possible, and logical, this morning.

You see, spouse and I have traveled from Lipetsk to Moscow.  We came for the Golden Autumn Expo, but I am going to sneak off in  the direction of the Pushkin Museum.  [  :) wink, wink ]

That said, we are booked for two nights at the Hotel Budapest, Moscow.  Отель Будапеште, Москве (!!!)  Our room is on the fifth floor, the breakfast room is on the third.  Let's be honest, five floors and a bunch of stuff, yes, we took the lift up.  But down two floors to the breakfast room this morning, we took the stairs.  That's when it struck me.

I know the photos I plan to show you won't do it justice, but I'm giving them to you anyway.  And I'll check on the dates later, but I am assuming this building is older than Christopher Columbus.  It reeks of history.  The marble tiles on the  wrap-around. stair case - who wouldn't take the stairs when something that beautiful is what you get to look at?  Open the window, look out with the camera.  It's everywhere.  The stuff that inspires us.  Amazing architecture.  The bustle of the city on the sidewalks below.  The light reflecting off the details of the building across the street.

Am I planning on painting these architectural details soon?  Not likely.  The light leaning off the building across the street?  Nuh-uh.

But part of our phrase du jour is inspiration studio.  That place where we go to work at creating, AND where we let that creation process work on us.  Where upon we give it back to the canvas.  And the canvas talks back to us.  And so on, and so forth.  You know how the process works, right?!

Bottom line:  am I feeling guilty because I don't have a paint brush in my hand this morning?  No.  Today is obviously for the other part of being an artist:  soaking it in.  Because even when I don't plan on putting all these amazing things I see this morning on a canvas, I know they are at this very moment rejuvenating me.  My mental load is becoming lighter, as we speak.  Once again, I know it's possible that whatever I do paint next, yup, it just might be beautiful.  

Inspiration.  Isn't it wonderful??

Thanks for stopping by!

Later, Karen

Across the street, Петровские Линии, from the hotel

A longer view of the same building

Down the fifth floor hallway - old, but immaculate and oh so elegant

The marble stairway where I knew my camera/available lighting would not do justice 

Again, across the  street, Петровские Линии

The breakfast room, where the really well trained staff (like this guy) think it's fine if you linger over your morning coffee, but you absolutely do not get to do it with spent plates & utensils on the table.  :)

I am fairly certain I have seen jewelry designed after the styling of this fixture, also from the breakfast room

Original art in the hallways  

A view to the north & west of the hotel.  And yes, despite telling everyone that winter in western Russia is much easier than winter in Iowa, we woke to a skiff of snow on this Friday morning!  Sun is back in the forecast for Monday :)

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, from where I have noticed a flurry of articles lately, regarding painting from photos.  I have determined that I need to get my two cents worth in.  Here goes.

I am sure I've shared with you my passion for sidewalk paintings as in:  painting the people I see on the sidewalks of my life.  People watchers everywhere, know what I mean when I say that the most interesting people are NOT posed, posers, or anything closely related. 

I know painters who work incredibly fast, but no one can paint fast enough to catch someone riding down the sidewalk on their bicycle.  Or someone chasing their dog down the block.  Or someone pushing their baby down the walk in the stroller.  Are there some of you at this very moment saying "duh, why would she want to paint THAT?"  "Look a little closer", I reply.   There is a wonderful story of everyday life and everyday people wrapped up in each of those opportunities.  "Too good to pass up", I say.

And so I stay at the ready with my camera.  Yes, the sketch book is there, too, but admittedly, I am slow in that department.  I keep at it, assuming that if I sketch enough, one of these days, I will suddenly be quick.  It hasn't happened yet.

The problems other artists cite for working from photos are valid and concerning.  Keeping the photo from overpowering and killing off any hopes of a good composition requires some extra measures.  Here's where I start:

1.  Assume that absolutely every photo you take is NOT good enough to be a painting exactly as it comes from the camera.  Let me

re-emphasize that:  No picture comes from your camera void of possible improvements.  Put it into your photo editing program, and PLAN on changing something. 

2.  Cameras and sketchbooks should be worked simultaneously.  Just because you caught it with the camera and uploaded it on the computer, doesn't mean you can stand at the easel and draw it on a canvas.  Cover some paper with drawings of what you caught with the camera, altered with the computer.  In other words you need to get to know your subject on a first name basis.  With a pencil.  (or a close facsimile thereof)

3.  Again, with the photos, look until you find that something.  The photo tells it like the camera saw it, but surely you are smarter than the camera.  Here's your chance to say "okay, but I remember this" or "I think this person was way more important, the camera really screwed up giving equal importance to the other guy".  Okay let's spread that one out a bit:

a.  Crop the photo in a bunch of different ways, line up your crops in a row, run a slide show of them, which one do you like the best?  I think most paintings from photos, that leave you wishing for better, get to that place, because the artist doesn't narrow things down enough.  Ask yourself how much can you eliminate, and still tell the story?  Just because the photo shows you three trees doesn't mean you have to paint each and every one of them.

b.  Three very important little words:  Black.  And.  White.  Everybody's photo program has that option, right?  Use it.  A black and white photo removes the impact of color and leaves the values large and in charge. 

c.  I find it helpful to have a bazillion photos of the subject.  Well, maybe not a bazillion, but at least more than one.  (thank God for making the guy who invented digital cameras)  What you can't see in one photo is hopefully found in the second, third or twenty-fourth of the subject.  I did a commission earlier this spring for three paintings.  I had 24 photos to work from--it was great.

Is it easier to paint  a person from the model than a photo?  Oh yeah.  But a posed model doesn't have much of a story to tell.  And I do love a good story.  And so I paint people out in the world, moving down the sidewalks.  Beaches.  Parks.  Whatever.  The story is key.

Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  We are talking about painting today, (of course), but more specifically, painting from photos.

It's not a new subject, is it?  But I thought possibly you would like to hear about painting from photos, from the viewpoint of an artist who paints sidewalk people.

So we've already agreed painting from photo references is nothing new, right?  I know artists who resolutely paint only "plein aire" that point back to French Impressionists habits as "pure painting".  Then someone looks sideways at one of those famous paintings and discovers a clue that it was actually painted in the studio.  And then somebody makes the discovery that an even more ancient artist was working with the equivalent of an overhead projector.

So, agreed, it's all been done before, but does that make it any easier or better?  That brings us back to THE LIST. Right?  3 reasons to not like painting from photos:

1.  Where are the details?

2.  How can I paint that hand if you don't give me any more details?

3.  I know that dog had details, where are they?

Oh, yeah.  That's really a redundant list of one.  One big gripe.  One loud whine.  My personal pet peeve regarding painting from photos.  So why on earth do I paint from photos?  I feel another list coming on....

1.  I paint people from everyday life, people out there on the sidewalk.  With the power of the camera, I can stop them in their tracks.  Preserve their presence for a future painting.

2.  The camera helps me synthesize my vision.  I find what interests me out in the world, record it in pixels.  If I get home and wonder what on earth was I thinking, I have a delete button at the ready.

3.  Cut and paste.  People out on the sidewalks of our lives are such good storytellers.  But sometimes they are on the wrong stage.  With the power of the camera, I can move them to a great venue, where their story can be told full force.

By now, I suppose you realize the importance of the second half of this post's title, correct?  Or, Does This Dog Match His Owner?  Refer to list #2, item #2, synthesizing my vision.  I found a pet/petparent combo on an Omaha (Nebraska) sidewalk last summer.  I realized instantly their need to be painted, with the camera, I preserve their image for future painting, (list #2, item #1) 

Now we need to revert to list #1, and you may take your pick of 1-3, because it's always about the details, or lack thereof, right?  Any way, there weren't enough, so enter list #2, item #3 and the resulting concern of "does this dog match his owner"?   Surely you realize that there is a strange phenomena of people choosing pets that (ahem) look like themselves?  And if there are just not enough details in the original photo and I have to go "find" a different doggie photo with detail, and use that instead, do I mess with the great order of life in pet/pet parent semblance?  Ha. 

Okay.  Here it is.  The painting that illustrates all the good and bad vibes of painting from photos.  I firmly believe way more good than bad :) so take a look:

  Childish Dog.  Likes Balloons.  Acrylic painting on canvas, measuring a perfect 24 x 24 inches.  (click here for portfolio zoom) Oh yeah, and they weren't really at the farmer's market either, chalk up another detail to artistic vision...

Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper