It has dawned on me that I have pretty much done exclusively landscape painting for the past year. I think the last figurative/portrait work that I did in oil was a small painting called Still #3:
I have a pretty good record of my work on my Instagram page (@ryandelgadoart). And as it turns out, this painting is indeed the last portrait painting I did, completed and posted on Instagram on February 18, 2021.
I will say that I've been feeling the itch to get back into figurative painting again. Or at least to do a figurative piece to satisfy that itch so that I can focus again on landscape work, because I'm loving it so much. But my worry has been that I'm going to be horribly rusty at figurative painting since I haven't done any in just over a year. I've hardly done any figurative sketching either. What if I've forgotten how to paint the figure??!
So yesterday, I grabbed a small piece of canvas and taped it to a board. A very, very small piece of canvas. 4.5x7.5" to be exact. And I did a small underpainting of a figure just to see if I still could. And it turned out suprisingly well:
Now, bear in mind that this is a really really little painting. And technically, it's a drawing. But with paint. I only used burnt umber and a small round brush that, over the years, has eroded into a very thin, long pointed brush that almost feels more like a drawing utensil than a brush. That's how I was able to get such a crisp contour of the figure. But in spite of its size and the fact that it's been a whole year, I'm quite please and elated. I was honestly afraid that I would forget how to draw. Figurative and portrait painting is no easy task, and is not for the faint of heart or the impatient. Well, I might be the exception to the latter. My impatience is rivaled only by my perfectionism.
The big question is, can I do this on a larger scale? As in, and actual painting on an actual canvas. It remains to be seen. This little painted drawing turned out nicely, but would it work out as well on, say, a 24x18", or dare I say it a 36x24"? Can painting really be like riding a bike, where you can just jump on and ride away, even if it's been ages since you last did it? Doubtful. I can already see the trouble that lies ahead. The frustration. The failed attempts. Starting over and then failing again, and then starting over again. And possibly scrapping ideas altogether and trying something else. Been there. Done that.
The thing is, I've still got it. And I know I do. But I don't want anyone to be mistaken here... I fail at paintings a LOT. All artists do. And the ones who say otherwise are lying. Art is messy... not just in terms of the messy paints, charcoal, clay, and other materials. I'm talking about the process. What you see hanging up in a gallery or art show, with its gorgeous frame, glowing vibrant colors, its clean drawing with sharp, flawless precision, and above all else its beauty and heart... Well before it got to that point, it was probably a mess. And believe me, if you aren't an artist yourself, you wouldn't dare want to know what that mess looks like underneath the finished product. It's like a food item that you like well enough without knowing what the ingredients are, and not wanting to know either. Like crab rangoon, for instance. Please, don't ruin it for me. I don't want to know what's in it. Just let me enjoy it.
So before I was able to get the drawing of the figure above to the point of its completion, there were about 90-120 minutes of fiddling with it. I've said before that painting is simply a process of constantly correcting mistakes for several hours at a time.
Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little. Maybe not every mark you make on your canvas is a mistake that needs correcting. In fact, as your painting progresses, hopefully the fewer mistakes you're making at that point. It's called the art of fine tuning. Adjustments are made so that the bad marks become good ones.
The processes of painting, drawing, and sculpting are a lot like the process of life itself. The hope is that you learn from the failures more so than your successes, and that you don't keep repeating the same mistakes as before. I hate when I fail paintings. But I suppose I have those failed paintings to thank for all the successful ones. I have to look back every now and again at where I was years ago versus where I am now, and be thankful. But also know that my progression is not finished. I've always said that one of the best things about being an artist is that you are never at your best. You will never reach as far as you can go, and consequently have no further progress to make. Michelangelo is noted for saying,
"Lord, grant that I may always desire more than I can accomplish."
So yeah, I still got it. But there's still more to get.
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