Posts Tagged ‘Romanticism’

Late Night Ruminations Concerning Artistic Authenticity

March 24, 2015
Staring at Watercolor Sketches Late at Night

Staring at Watercolor Sketches Late at Night

see in painters prose writers and poets. Rhyme, measure, the turning of verses which is indispensable and which gives them so much vigor, are analogous to the hidden symmetry, to the equilibrium at once wise and inspired, which governs the meeting or separation of lines and spaces, the echoes of color, etc. . . . But the beauty of verse does not consist of exactitude in obeying rules, when even the most ignorant eyes see at once any lack of attention to them. It resides in a thousand secret harmonies and conventions which make up the power of poetry and which go straight to the imagination.

Eugene Delacroix, Journal, September 19, 1847

In my art history classes, we are neck-deep in the opposing theories of the Neoclassical and Romantic painters of the 18th and 19th centuries. I never really know just how much of this content (if any) resonates with my students, but it makes my blood pump hotter, and quickens my pulse. This debate is not merely academic with me, as the personal matters extend all the way back to my college days over forty years ago. In those days, I was tagged as Neoclassical, though they used a different vocabulary to describe my work then.

The debate divides painters between the drafting, compositional, structural ones (Neoclassical) and the painterly, organic, emotional ones (Romantic). I have always been tagged with the former–I draw, I structure, I try to discern rules for quality compositions when I make art. My college professors said my oil paintings were “colored drawings.” They were right. In the ensuing years, I have found my niche in watercolor because I regard this medium as an extension of drawing, and it feels natural to me.

But now in my senior years, I feel things more deeply, embrace beauty more passionately. And when I regard my own work, I continually wonder how one finds the key to creating art for an emotional response rather than a rational one. I find some comfort in reading that Andrew Wyeth and Edward Hopper struggled with the same sentiments. They feaered that label of being “illustrators” and “technicians” rather than artists.

Another Exercise Walk Yields a Winsome Subject

Another Exercise Walk Yields a Winsome Subject

When I took my exercise walk this evening, I was held by the attraction of this magnificent tree glowing in the setting sun. As I gazed at it, charged with emotional energy, I thought of my own recent attempts to render trees in watercolor. And I wondered what it would take to raise the quality of such paintings from the standard of illustration to one of beauty. How could I learn to paint trees with a druidic feel, rather than illustrative, such as one finds in an encyclopedia?

My apologies if this entry comes across as rambling. But this is where I am tonight, and I’m fascinated with these conflicting notions that have coexisted in the art world for centuries.

Thanks for reading.

I paint in order to remember.

I journal when I feel alone.

I blog to remind myself I am not really alone.


Painting a Still Life, while Contemplating Neo-Classical and Romantic Matters

February 1, 2013
Fishing Still Life Composition

Fishing Still Life Composition

. . . with an eye made quiet by the power

Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,

We see into the life of things.

William Wordsworth, “Lines Written a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey”

As a watercolorist or draftsman, I think I have a Neo-Classical eye for detail and composition, but as an artist, I believe I have a Romantic heart that beats with emotion as I engage in creating art.  The way I breathe, the serenity I know and the memories that stir my blood convince me that I am a Romantic at heart, though probably Classical in mind.

As my eye explores every cubic inch of this assembly of objects before me, my heart throbs at memories of fishing in my youth.  On this particular day, I cannot stop thinking about an adolescent day on a neighborhood lake in House Springs, Missouri that found me in a rowboat with a gorgeous blonde goddess who took my breath away.  I was there reportedly to fish, and I did have a Shakespeare combo rod & reel in hand, but I could not keep my eyes off this striking girl as she struggled with the paddle, trying to navigate us toward a popular fishing hole.  I was supposed to be the helmsman, but as I recall, I successfully guided us into a cluster of low-hanging tree branches.  I guess, to me, fishing and women never mixed.

I stayed up late last night, blocking in shadows on this composition.  I plan to post the in-progress painting later this afternoon (for now, it doesn’t look very presentable, and there is more faint pencil line than pigment to display on this blog, hence mostly a white rectangle.  That should be changing within the next few hours).

As an English teacher, I am conscious of my shortcomings in trying to lead seniors to an appreciation of Pope and Wordsworth, but today the students seemed to give the task a serious try.  I have Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey” experience dripping all over me, as my mind is awash in good primal memories of presence and loss from my youth, and as I ponder these memories, I am glad to keep my eye engaged on the surface of this paper, watching the puddles of water, the billows of watercolor wash, and the pencil lines emerging slowly to give shape to the forms  that lie in front of me.

Thank you for reading.  I’ll have more posted later this afternoon.

Finished the Route 66 Gas Station Watercolor

February 23, 2012

Abandoned Gas Station in Robertsville, Missouri

Despite another night’s restless sleep, I somehow found the energy and enthusiasm today to push out the remainder of this watercolor and declare it a fait accompli.  As stated in prior posts, the abandoned service station is located at Robertsville, Missouri, west of St. Louis near historic route 66, six miles southwest of Pacific.  I created an earlier version titled “Cold Desolation” which is a frontal view of the station.

Though my body is ragged from lack of sleep, I feel compelled to write about this satisfying day in the classroom.  My topic in regular Art History covered the Neo-Classical, Romantic and Realist periods of European and American painting.  As I lectured through these areas, I found my personal life and my art connecting more intimately with these periods than ever before.

The Neo-Classical era of painting, corresponding with the 18th-century Age of Enlightenment, focused on discipline, precision, draughtsmanship and composition.  It was an era of painting beset by rules and clarity of presentation.  Speaking of my own artistic endeavors, I have always been more of a draughtsman than a painter.  My painting professor from Vienna always told me that I created “colored drawings.”  I suppose that has something to do with my settling on watercolor as a means of expression, since I pursue it as an extension of drawing, and while creating a composition such as the one just posted, I feel that I am drawing 90% of it, and making an effort to paint the rest.  Moreover, as I worked at this piece, I was constantly stepping back to view it from a distance and make decisions concerning contrast, area of focus, warm vs. cool colors, and high vs. low intensity.  Compositional questions dogged me throughout this work.  So yes, I feel a Neo-Classical strain as I work at my art.

After the Neo-Classicists had their day in court, the pendulum swung to a movement we call Romanticism.  This group of painters rejected the structural “Apollonian” disciplines and rule-following of the classical style, and preferred instead to explore the spontaneity, the dark side, the emotive side of the human experience.  Dionysus seems to be the patron deity of this movement, as Goya, Gericault and Delacroix launched excursions into the turbulent side of life.  When I showed my students the watercolor and pencil rendering of the ruins of the Medieval cathedral at Tintern Abbey, by Joseph Mallord William Turner, I tried to convey to them the dual sense of loss and presence one can feel when regarding an abandoned subject.  My own company Recollections 54 ( focuses on abandoned subjects, and the more I study and paint them, the more I feel that dual experience.  I was glad when school finally ended today.  I was ready to re-enter the garage studio and finish this painting, seeking to inject into it some sense of loss, abandonment and opportunities missed.  I feel the Romantic strain when I focus on these kinds of subjects in painting, and I know the overwhelming feelings expressed by Wordsworth in his “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey.”

Realism followed on the heels of the Neo-Classical and Romantic movements.  G. W. F. Hegel has left us with a philosophy of history that focuses on dual movements (thesis and antithesis) that become locked in dispute, and when a resolution arises that somehow finds a consensus between them, we call it a synthesis.  That is what the Realist school of painting seemed to do.  The artists could acknowledge that life contains rules and structure on the one hand, and the opposite extreme of romance and risk on the other, but life for the most part is Aristotle’s Golden Mean between the extremes.  Life involves going to work everyday, paying bills, eating, sleeping, and navigating through the extremes of success and failure.  The school of Realism wants to show slices of everyday life as they really are.  They thought history was for the past and romance was for dreamers.

Sometimes, I feel that my paintings reflect more the school of Realism than that of the Classics or Romance.  They are paintings of bland, dull, quiet, discarded subjects from daily life that the majority will pass without a look.  And the more I labor to turn them into works of art, applying disciplinary compositional techniques (Neo-Classical) or injecting them with drama (Romantic), the more I come away saying, “These are just subjects from the real, gray world, nothing more.”  Interestingly enough, I have never been able to separate my art from my profession, any more than one can separate the creation from its creator.  The reality is that I am a public schoolteacher, often with ideas and talk that exceed my accomplishments.  That alone could render me a Realist.  But my final word is this–I am, in the final word, an unfrustrated artist who always finds the act of creating a source of genuine joy and satisfaction, even when the work of art falls below expectations.  Like a satisfied fly fisherman returning from the stream with an empty creel who says, “It was still beautiful being out on the stream, breathing, relaxing, and listening to the 4-count rhythm of my fly casting.”

Another watercolor in the hopper.  A very satisfying day in the classroom as well as in the studio.  And a chance to think through some large issues that inspired the genius of Enlightenment thinkers and artists.  Thank you for reading and taking time to share this one with me.