Speaking of Art Blog

If you’ve ever seen a theater production where a bit player stole the show, then you know what upstaging is.  They are not supposed to get the most attention, but their over-the-top drama can sometimes serve as a distraction from the star of the show.  Well, that’s what I want to talk about in this blog post – eliminating upstaging from your artwork.

Wetland Stunner, pastel, 12x16" 

I recently finished this painting of a gorgeous foxglove plant that was in full bloom in a wetland area at the base of Mt. St. Helens in Washington.  I call it, Wetland Stunner.  The magenta blooms took my breath away, and I love how the stem made a sharp angle to the left and then curved upward toward the sky once again.  Here is my reference photo.

While the photo still draws one’s attention to the main star of the show -- the flowering foxglove -- there were some definite distractions that I needed to eliminate right away.  I’ve circled them here.  Let’s have a look at the circled areas.

First, there were some annoying leaves in the upper right corner of the photo that showed no source, no plant stem from which they were growing.  There is a definite differentiation between foreground and background in this photo, and since those little leaves were not connected to the main flowering plant nor the long blades of grass at the bottom, they didn’t seem to belong.  They had to go.  I also eliminated a single stubbly blade of grass along the bottom middle edge of the picture plane that I knew would not be missed at all. 

Next I concentrated on the lightest lights and the darkest darks in the photo as a whole.  Usually those two elements should be reserved for the center of interest.  But there were several individual leaves down near the bottom of the picture plane that were way too bright.  They had to be darkened so as not to stand out so much.  And then there was the matter of the water along the whole top of the photo.  It was REALLY bright, too bright in my opinion to be considered background.  So I softened its harsh contrast by tweaking the color.  Instead of using stark white for the water, I chose to use a cool, very pale blue.  That pushed the water back in space and made it stand out less.  So the only place where I used pure white was along the edges of the foxglove petals, the edges of the plant stem, and on some of its leaves.  That really made the blossoms jump forward.

Next I attended to edges and details.  Sharply focused edges and intricate details make something jump forward in space.  They should be reserved for the star of the show.  I made sure that the only sharp edges were reserved for the foxglove plant and its leaves.  Most everything in the background was rendered with fuzzy edged bokeh circles, and while I didn't make the foreground grass blades super fuzzy, I did slightly soften their edges and I added very few details.  

Lastly, I tweaked some of the background colors, especially all the lime greens and bright yellows.  The lime greens I rendered aren’t quite as bold as in the reference photo, and I used a golden yellow orange for the occasional colorful leaves in the marsh water, instead of bright yellow.  In other words, I slightly under saturated the color intensity of everything except the foxglove.  Then I went all out with the reds and magentas on the foxglove with full on gusto.

All of these tweaks served to accomplish one main goal – that of making sure the bit players did not upstage the star of the show.  It does NOT necessarily mean that the background colors need to be wimpy.  But it’s important to remind yourself who is the star.  All the rest are supporting actors, helping to make the star shine brightly, not drawing attention to themselves as individuals.  When everyone is playing their assigned part, it makes for a pretty stunning performance, one that just might take one’s breath away.

You would think that rendering a blurry background in a painting would be a piece ‘o cake.  I mean, it’s just fuzzy blobs of color, right?  Not so much.  I needed a lot of practice in successfully rendering fuzzy blobs.

One of the common pitfalls is in the lack of attention being given to how the shapes relate to the center of interest.  Many times I’ll refine an edge of a fuzzy shape after my center of interest is in place.  Look at the background shapes on this new pastel painting of mine, Hello Spring. 

I added most of the blurry colored shapes above the bird first, then I painted the bluebird, then the shapes below the bird, and then the wire perch.  What I paid particular attention to below the bird was whether the blurry shapes that started on one side of the bird or wire perch continued to the other side.  I’ve drawn circles around what I mean.

If a blurry shape suddenly stops at an edge of something in focus and doesn’t continue on the other side of that object, it looks unfinished, like the blurry shapes were an afterthought.  What I have to do is temporarily pretend that my center of interest isn’t there.  Then I ask myself: “How would that shape continue without the in-focus shape in front of it?  Where would it end?”  It’s best not to have a large or long blurry shape end behind an in-focus shape.  The artist enhances the illusion of depth by continuing the blurry shape behind it, and having the blurry shape peek out the other side as well.  It doesn’t have to be by much, just enough to create that illusion.

Here’s another example.  This piece is titled, Little Wren.

See how I continued the light purple blurred background shape all the way across its legs and extended it just beyond them to the other side?  I didn’t stop that background shape when I got to the bird’s legs.

Most of the time I’m following my reference photo with the shapes of the background blobs, but I always tweak a shape and extend it if it’s not going quite far enough behind something.  I know it sounds like an oxymoron, but I refine my blurry shapes to create the illusion of depth.  If a fuzzy background shape starts on one side of an in-focus object, I have it come out the other side, showing up right where my viewer expects to see it.  It’s a subtle yet very effective trick that makes for believable depth in a painting.