Edit Your Own Work

Pink Haze River
9.25" x 13.5"
Pastel
Casey Klahn

I doubled the quality of my art before I went to my show last September, by throwing out half of it.

This final installment in the How to Paint for the Prize series concerns your own ability to edit your work. Be brutal and hold up only the best works for show. The great American artist Willem de Kooning threw out almost everything he painted early in his career, and made a reputation for himself while doing it. He kept only the few paintings that he felt had merit.

Many of my own feelings on editing were posted here: The Axe Falleth.

I wrote:

"A thing I do is, after completing a run of artworks, I will spot a couple of dogs in the lot, and axe those. Then, I will look at the remainder, and axe the two or three weakest paintings, as well."

The post continued as a reprint of comments:

Carolyn L. asks:

"While you are 'axing' what questions do you ask yourself? What do you look for? Do you have a specific set of guidelines you apply? While I am sure the process is not entirely objective, there must be a thought process you pursue. Learning to evaluate one's own work is not easy. It is not a skill directly taught in art class. I would like to hear your take on the subject."


My response:

Good questions, Carolyn.

Sure, the first thought is something subjective. A niggling something that isn't right (usually a compositional problem). Often, the compositional issue has to do with proportion. Some element is too big, or too small.

The big problem is when it's close to okay, and then the struggle starts.

Distance of a day helps. I sit and look at my work a lot. I tape or tack the series on the wall and stare and evaluate. I use mats or tape to frame them. I get the rejects out of the way, although they still reside on the wall somewhere out of the way. A stack of rejects (or 2 or 3 stacks) sit around the studio, and I can refer to those for ideas later.

No guidelines. That's a little too static for me.

I look for strength in a painting.

I don't outright reject a work for technique issues. Some mistakes are okay with me if the point comes across. And, meanwhile, I am on a program to improve my technique! There's a contradiction there for you.

Some very important reasons for rejecting an artwork are if they don't fit the series, or my style direction. In that vein, I will get rid of works that have too many sharp or defined edges, or too much detail, compared to the whole.

Another issue can be dull spots where the paper just packed up too much with pastel.

Another problem can be value comparisons. Bad value progressions - too stark or too similar, are a bad thing.

Maybe a shape of an element isn't right. Too regular; wrong size or direction.

Endless...and people think art is easy!

Diane Wenzel then followed up with this question:

"Casey, your review of critical axing is very useful. But how is it when you begin a series? When you are in the heat of creation, what do you do with your critical hacking voice? If the hacker is asleep, I can see how you might become caught up in one place adding unwanted, useless details."


Me:

Well, Diane, it sounds like you are asking two questions. One: how to edit a whole series at the start. The other: do I get caught up in a the process and add superfluous stuff?

Or, perhaps you are asking that if the series is in its infancy, how can I tell which parts belong?

I never choose a series from an idea. The series presents itself based on a successful image that needs to be explored many times. So, the series is already a successful image and hopefully never contrived.

What are the qualities of that first successful image (or two)? These become my criteria. Also, my whole art statement comes into play (color - modern treatment - realism - abstract heavy).

Superfluous stuff? I go down that road often. That's why I have to edit the works after they are done. Interestingly, I will be in the groove and create nice works with new and fresh passages, and all is well then. Other times, I won't even know what I am doing in the studio!

In summary:

• Get distance from your art, by a day or two.
• Look at them upside down; squint; view through a mirror (okay, I added these).
• Make sure to focus on unity of thought, so the series doesn't wander or add extra, unnecessary clutter.
• Don't just look at technique, but rather the emotion or message.

In addition to these things, I will caution against self-criticism. The exercise of editing your art to save the best art is not a self-deprecating one. Neither is it a self-aggrandizing session. Possibly, you can step outside yourself a bit and see your art in new lights, and then you will sit in front of your exhibit of art, and be moved by it.

One telling story. The absolute last choice of my own art for my September show, one that almost got cut, actually was the first one that sold. Maybe I held the axe just right for my cuts.

Get There Quick!

"Time...is running...OUT, old chum!!!"

Every artist wishes to excel in their work. The Colorist has been looking at How to Paint for the Prize.

Because I was seeking the prize for my art last summer, I was in a hurry. One thing I knew about myself when it came to painting for my show in California was that if I didn't complete all of the artworks in a narrow time frame, their look would be discernibly different from one another. As an example, the first few pastel paintings would not seem very much "like" the last few - they would still look to be done by the same artist, but they would convey different ideas.

If focus was a pathway to winning First Prize, then I would need to get my body of work done in the shortest time possible. Long days in the studio, with early starts and after dinner sessions would be in order. Since I knew the venue, I had a firm idea of how many works I'd need, which was about 25. Since I was at an art festival, and since running out of art is the big taboo, I knew that I could fill-in with paintings that didn't match my series on the last day.

One thing that worked against my goal was the danger of reworking the same idea so often that I might produce a boring inventory. Same scene - different day, so to speak. My belief is that returning to a scene will generate more good than harm, as the artist can actually better define his ideas by repetition. A stop gap for me, though, was the limit of about 25 works.

Narrow the time frame of your painting project to keep your works coherent and focused, and your audience will appreciate the results.

Congratulations to Tom Christopher, Images from the Iowa Greenbelt, whose pastel "Barely Alive," won first prize in the Arkansas Pastel Society competition. That's how it's done.

Content

Umber River, Upside Down

The River Series is a collection of pastels that I painted specifically for the Sausalito Art Festival in September, and is currently exhibited in Kirkland, Washington through January 4th., 2010. These paintings adhere to a few simple ideas that are concerned with formal qualities. If you were to describe them as representational, you would be less than right. On the other hand, if they remind you of a specific place, you would be right on track. This "instability" is fully intended - they are meant to toe the line between abstraction and description.

"A song is anything that can walk by itself." Bob Dylan

Light River Reflections, Upside Down

Below, I lay out the formal concepts that I used in the River paintings, but I would say that almost any set of ideas would have worked as long as they were recognizable as a thread throughout the series. That's why it is so important for the artist to get a one person venue. The viewer needs to connect the ideas of the whole.

Here are the threads I wanted:

1. Dark areas (dark secrets) that I used as eye magnets.

2. A fairly even value spread - which means that a range of values are used from very dark to somewhat light.

3. A drawing approach - line and value compositions; bare process versus resolution.

4. Intense color passages, because that is a signature aspect of my work.

River Aine, Upside Down

The process I followed in the River Series did involve an actual place as the starting point. I stood on the bank of the Little Hoquiam River and absorbed what impressions I could, and took some photos. I worked up several drawings, in graphite, charcoal or pastel. A few were taped up on my studio window and viewed with light passing through them. I looked at them on my computer screen as well. Finally, I spun the images from memories, and worked from the specific to the general - I wanted your river, not mine, to be foremost.

"If the picture has a countenance, I keep it." deKooning


Here are some more observations about the series:

1. I used landscape formats, which is an easy formal way to portray realism.

2. Low points of view were favored, which makes the river scene easier to apprehend.

3. I didn't want direct light sources - no blue skies.

4. Some classic compositional tools were employed, in order to create easier access into the picture.

5. The water became a place for abstract play.

Readers of The Colorist have noticed that I explained the River Series posts with music videos rather than with words. I did this for a couple of reasons. One, it was an oblique and not-wordy way to expand on the pictures, and two, I could link the river theme to river songs and suggest a unity to the series. Incidentally, there was a list of qualifications to the music videos, too. Live venues and sincere performances were the main themes.

What Are Your Ideas?

We are considering How to Paint for the Prize - my advice to artist who wish to do their best work. Improvement happens with practice and over time, but what else can you do to "bring up your game?"

The outline for this series is as follows:

Focus
Commit
Content (have ideas)
Narrow the time frame
Edit

The most important area to consider is content. It goes to the aesthetic ideas that you have, and the particular thoughts you want to communicate through your work.

While I focused my recent series on one subject, the river, I was also compelled to clearly present a set of ideas. Why? Because I felt that if I adhered to certain clearly thought out ideas, my audience would treat the series as a whole and travel farther into my work. In short, they could understand it better, and also feel connected to the artist's ideas.



Philosophies of art distinguish between form and content. Form considers the marks and material parts of a painting, and includes the formal aspects such as shape, line and value. Consider abstract aspects of a painting as formal qualities. Content, simply put, is the artist's meaning - the ideas that he has.

What kinds of ideas are we talking about, here? Is it enough to represent one's subject as well as possible? I think in this day and age, most can see the thinness of this as a basic idea. More complete ideas are required.

What about quality, or technical skill? It is important, and rigor in art is foundational. But, artists who have been at their work for some time admit that technique is a small part of their presentation. And, I think, technique can help in the presentation of one's ideas, but it can sometimes stand in the way, too. A great resolve may be just what your painting doesn't need, especially if it paves over the first emotions you brought to the work.




Here are some of my thoughts on painting:

• A painting must become more than the sum of its parts.
• A painting is a history of what happened to the artist.
• An artist should communicate his ethos through his art.
• I believe that a painting should affirm the personal.

What are my ideas in the River Series? I'll tell you in the next post. I notice here that my decision to occupy the space that straddles traditional and modern ideas convinces about 9% of the audience of interested viewers. Y-A-W-N...

Quotes On Content

Melancholy
o/c, 1874
Edgar Degas

The post on content is finally written, but I have split it in two. While researching, I dug up some fascinating quotes by artists on content. Reference: artquotes.net.


"I'm painting an idea not an ideal. Basically I'm trying to paint a structured painting full of controlled, and therefore potent, emotion." Euan Uglow.

"The holy grail is to spend less time making the picture than it takes people to look at it." Banksy.

"It doesn't matter how the paint is put on, as long as something is said." Pollock.

"A painting requires a little mystery, some vagueness, some fantasy. When you always make your meaning perfectly plain you end up boring people." Degas.

"In art, one idea is as good as another. If one takes the idea of trembling, for instance, all of a sudden most art starts to tremble. Michelangelo starts to tremble. El Greco starts to tremble. All the Impressionists start to tremble." de Kooning.

Tomorrow: my thoughts on content.

Looking for the Why

The Portal
4.75" x 4.5"
Graphite
Scene at "Riva Ridge," Italy
Casey Klahn

Partly because I am blocked about writing the next essay on "How to Paint for the Prize," I want to bring you along on the search for content and the need for having ideas in your art. I am blocked by the overwhelming amount of information that I have about content in art. I could tell you my ideas in painting for my recent prize. But I'm getting tired of ringing my own bell. I could write an essay on the academic truths about what content means in art; how art content is different from form and subject. So dry.

I am not lacking inspiration on art ideas - far from it. I am uber-inspired by the things I read and see concerning the masters and what many good writers have to say about aesthetics and meaning in art. How can I get you, dear reader, to ignite your spark and paint your best for that next show?

Yesterday's post on drawing, with two simple quotes from Ingres and Picasso, is foundational to what I believe about my art. Drawing is an ascendant element in contemporary art. I am reading more essays about drawing, and as a result I am going to renew my drawing focus for my next one man show. Conceptualizing my River Series as drawing-based was a huge part of the success of that series. Remember, drawing isn't as much about the tools as it is about the ideas and approach to your work.

Here are some drawing links that will get your artist's heart beating faster, and challenge you to renew your faith in your ability to win the prize of the finest art you can make.

Drawing Masters: Ingres, Pierre-Paul Prud'hon, Rubens, Käthe Kollwitz, and Picasso.
Mary Adam - Drawing Criteria.
The Rebirth of Drawing.
David Jon Kassan - This is his best video of time lapse drawing because the others lose the technique.

Speaking of painting for the prize, you would do well to follow the work of Loriann Signori, whose art was recently recognized with a first place award at the national Shades of Pastel Biennial Exhibition in Maryland.

Deer "Cast" Drawing
14" x 12"
Charcoal, Conte and Compressed Charcoal
Casey Klahn

Commit

Commitment
My (Younger) Self and Friend Ryan in the Mountains

With your focus placed on what to paint for your award winning show, it is now appropriate to ask yourself if you have the commitment to make it happen. If you are going to win the prize, much time, pain and treasure will be poured into your efforts.

In my mountain climbing days, commitment was a tangible quality of some climbs. A given climb is described as "having commitment" if you ascend to a given point after which retreat becomes either undesirable or impossible. Going down is more difficult than going up to the summit. Or more deadly.

Having experienced this kind of palpable commitment in my past helps me in my artist's life now to commit to greater effort. Early wake ups. Late hours in the studio. Isolation. The amount of concentration required by your best efforts in the studio may leave you less focused on everyday life activities. Your friends may wonder where you've been. Conversations may be hard to carry on at first, and people may feel that your mind is "somewhere else."

Commitment means hard work. Commitment is also an attitude. Do you have the capacity to let your art live and flourish in you?

If you make the commitment, and you know what you're up against, then the prize awaits.

How to Paint for the Prize

Blue & Gray River
10" x 14.5"
Pastel
Casey Klahn

How to Paint for a First Place or a Best in Show.

It occurred to me that you might like to hear my secrets for painting to win a prize. When I knew that I was going to be in the prestigious Sausalito festival this year, I wanted to up my game, and bring the best artwork that I could. First, I decided to paint specifically for a first place prize. Cheeky, to be sure, but I hope that every serious artist would think the same way.

Very much to my surprise, I did receive First Place in my category, which was Drawing. As proof of the difficulty level, my award was a tie with the incredible Sheila M. Evans. Sheila seems to win awards everywhere she goes, and it isn't hard to see why. She's probably the most talented artist I know.

But for me, it was a hat trick. And, while the thoughts are fresh in my mind, I'll share the How To in the next few posts. We will consider the following:

Focus
Commit
Content (have ideas)
Narrow the time frame
Edit

Focus on a body of work that will "read" easily and quickly. The judges with the clipboards are looking at the work of 100-300 artists. That can mean a dizzying assortment of thousands of pieces of eye candy, all popping out and screaming "Love me! Look at me!"

The judges are on their feet, and they are there with their own sets of ideas of what they like. How will you be able to appear great, or even appear present, to these judges?

Don't bother them. If they are over ten feet away from you, just leave them alone. Ideally, your booth/display will be neat and orderly when they show up, and your best work will be available to see.

One year, I built an actual wall out of 2x4s and drywall. It was painted white, with some texture, and in the back, or deep, part of my booth. I won a top award from one of the nation's leading arts professionals, Michael Monroe. He actually gave me the award (Juror's Choice/ 2-D) two years in a row. At that show, there are three Juror's Choice awards presented for broad categories like Fine Craft and Wood and Visual Art. It looks great on my resume, and fits well in my shpeal to gallerists and collectors.

This year, I couldn't afford the space and decided to do my best with just my dark gray Pro Panels. As it turned out, that was good enough and the judges found my booth just fine.

Focus for me this year meant staying with a theme based, at one level, on subject. The River Series depicts typical American rivers. I stayed primarily with landscape (long) aspects and similar points of view (slightly high viewpoint from the near bank).

But wait, there's more! I had deeper meanings to my theme. There were fairly meaningful art related ideas as well. They included the unusual use of dark passages as "eye sumps" in the composition. Also, my ideas of coupling Modern Art ideas with Contemporary ideas. Half real and half abstract. Intensity of color, and keying on the primaries. More on this when I post on content.

Focus for clarity and to bring forward the merits of your art, and the award givers (and patrons) will beat a trail to your door.

Next, in a day or two I hope, I'll cover commitment. See you then.