I was recently asked by a good pastel artist friend to address the problem of surface area consistency within our paintings. An instructor had counseled her a few years ago to create continuity between the structures and the surrounding landscape within her paintings. The quandary: Aren’t some areas greatly different in texture, like the side of a house and the surrounding trees? Shouldn’t they be painted differently to represent that difference?
 
This is an excellent point for discussion. Indeed, the appearance of the sky is much softer than the trees, and the skin of a youthful face smoother than the hair. While this is certainly true, we have to consider the nature of a painting; it's a window into a universe of the artist’s making. And, to be believable, there has to be a degree of harmonious cohesion.

In the consideration of how painters approach the separate areas of a painting, there are basically three aesthetics: The decorative attitude tends to apply a different technique of application to each area. Consider the “magic” television painters. The sky in their paintings was brushed in with a large soft brush; the trees pounced with a fan brush; and the rocks applied with a painting knife. Even though they are all made up of similar paint and have value and color consistency, they exist without shared application. The decorative nature of the application is the major appeal. These works can often appear gimmicky and wind up relegated to the spot above the sofa.

The second attitude is the application-consistent artist, which is the opposite extreme of the decorative. These paitners choose to use the same repetitive stroke of product application to create visual consistency, leaving the visual play of value, color and subject matter to tell the story. Think of Renoir using the same cupping stroke to apply all of his paint, yet we see the children at play in the park. The paint, or product, is not the element that grabs our attention. It is widely believed that the French Impressionists used this method to separate themselves from the bravura paint applications of their predecessors.

The third attitude is a bridging of the two mindsets. The artist may employ a wide array of product application and technique, but never isolates any given area. A sky may be dominated by soft applications but a few bold strokes will appear in the clouds, uniting it with the heavily painted textured trees. Since softness recedes and heavy texture comes forward, most of these painters use a variety of applications throughout the painting to heighten the appearance of depth. Areas are not singularly painted. Visual continuity is created through technique repetition, letting us believe that everything exists within the same visual space. My plein air painting Sentinel of the Lavender (above; pastel on UArt paper, 12x10) is an example of this aesthetic.
 
Look for Richard's latest column on the importance of focal point in the new November/December issue of The Pastel Journal on sale now at www.northlightshop.com.

Recently, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to visit the current exhibit "Sargent and the Sea" at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. What a treat! Being a life-long fan of the expatriate master, I have tried, whenever possible, to experience his original work firsthand. As useful as books may be—especially for those of us who live in areas that don’t afford easy access to major museums—these can be our best resource—there is nothing like standing in the presence of the original work. It's always easy to identify the other painters in the museums and galleries; they are the ones closely analyzing the paintings as if they were on their own easels.

In recent years, John Singer Sargent has gained in popularity and is being given the due respect many of us felt he always deserved. Although best known for his society portraits, this exhibit explores his other works, many of which represent his love of the landscape and document his travels to exotic locations.
 
The Corcoran has brought together more than 80 marine paintings and drawings from his early years as an artist, 1874 to 1879, when he was 18 through 23 years of age. The centerpiece of the exhibit is the larger of two oils depicting fisher-folk at Cancale, France, painted in 1878. This painting is in the permanent collection of the Corcoran and the smaller version is on loan from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. Recent discoveries of other seascapes and pictures have brought new attention to his work around these themes.

Not all of the reviewers have been overly impressed with this exhibit, but I think anyone who paints will find it informative and inspirational. What impressed me the most was the volume of sketches and studies executed in advance of the paintings. Sargent experiemnted with composition elements, adjusted figures, adding and sometimes deleting elements. Over this five-year period of time, while he was still working on his other subjects, he amassed innumerable studies and sketches, reinforcing his passion for his craft and his constant work ethic.
 
Many of us wish we were as good as Sargent but are not willing to invest the time and effort into the study he did throughout his life. After visiting this exhibit, I was both humbled and motivated to sketch, and to think more in advance of making my pastel marks. Next week, I have an opportunity to paint with a group of friends in a remote location in eastern Oregon for a few days. Instead of focusing on finished paintings, I plan to sketch and produce field studies. Hopefully, I will be able to suppress the urge to rush ahead to a signature. Good intentions are one thing, but the passion of the moment another.
 
"Sargent and the Sea" will be showing through January 3, 2010, then it travels to the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, from February 14 to May 23, 2010, and the Royal Academy of Arts, London, England from July 10 to September 26, 2010. For more information and a slideshow, visit the Corcoran online.

[above] En Route pour la pêche (Setting Out to Fish) by John Singer Sargent (1878; oil on canvas). Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington, DC. Museum Purchase, Gallery Fund 17.2.

John Singer Sargent in his Studio, unidentified photographer (ca. 1884; 21 x 28 cm). [Artists in their Paris studios,], 1880-1890. Archives of American Art.