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     After buying 6 Easter Lily plants this past month and multiple attempts at painting them, there isn't a lot else on my mind right now besides lilies. Each Spring I look forward to another opportunity at trying to top myself. Because the buds keep opening over the course of several weeks, this year I was able to try some larger arrangements, which was really fun. Some blossoms I leave attached to the plants, while others are cut and put in vases or floral tubes in order to expand the compositional possibilities. The paintings I plan to keep from this group won't be totally finished and photographed for several weeks but I've posted one below that was done a few years ago.        

     As I was working it occurred to me that even something as simple as attempting a larger format and standing further away from the set up prompted me to revisit and dust off skills that hadn't been exercised in a while. All of my brain cells went into overdrive trying to organize thoughts and possibilities as I tried to come up with compelling arrangements, all the while fully aware that these flowers will keep changing and not last indefinitely. It brought to mind the idea that if we are lucky, this art journey is always one of teaching ourselves, again and again. Eventually a new skill or concept will become a habit and hopefully we can hang onto it while adding more to the mix.

        An important lesson from my instructors that is an all too easy one to overlook in the rush to get started, is the concept of visual simplicity. This is something that applies to any subject matter although white lilies can provide an ideal example to study. An arrangement may include just a few objects or many, but regardless of the number, a solid composition embraces the idea of an overall simplicity, specifically  in the way things come together and form larger value patterns.

      Within this overall design, however, there is the consideration of visual simplicity on a smaller scale , at least for a few key objects. Not all surfaces and shapes will carry the feeling of form and light in a straightforward way, so if you want those qualities present in the finished painting, it's essential to arrange at least a few principal objects in a way where they have distinct patterns of light and shadow that hang together and help tell the story. Sometimes lighting that seems good enough in real life doesn't always translate well onto the canvas so stopping to analyze how the lighting is affecting the subject is a discipline that can really pay off.  If these basic value patterns also have strong silhouettes that clearly convey the nature of the object they represent, then our job as artists instantly becomes a whole lot easier. (NOTE -- If you have trouble seeing or distinguishing value patterns, a black mirror can be a tremendous help. Simple instructions can be found at Making and Using a Black Mirror.) Keeping these larger patterns relatively unobstructed and painting them in such a way that doesn't diminish the big overall statement can set the tone for the entire painting. While it's never my intention to spell out everything within the entire picture plane, my goal is always to make a few key elements so believable and 3-dimensional that the viewer's mind will fill in the rest.

       It's not an easy matter distilling things down to their essence. John Singer Sargent's teacher Carolus Duran was quoted as saying " All that is not indispensable is harmful." In my understanding, that's another way of saying every addition and every stroke -- every color change, every bit of detail, every small form, etc. will take away to some degree from the larger picture, so you need to be aware of what you're giving up and to make every move count. Anyone who has taken my classes either online or in person has heard me talk about getting things to 'read' well in a painting and that follows this same idea. 

    My intention is to keep working with a composition until I have a solid design, good color balance, etc. but also something exciting to paint that is more than the sum of its parts. At some point it always dawns on me that if I keep tweaking things I'm probably going to mess up the areas that are drawing me to want to paint it in the first place, so that's when I go ahead and take a leap of faith. The ideal thing is to eliminate as many problems as I can before starting but rarely do I create arrangements that don't require some sort of adjusting as the painting progresses. As things get interpreted into paint, a petal might end up looking as though it belongs to another flower and then the lily next to it ends up with the shape of a mutant starfish. Edges where objects are just barely touching each other will crop up, resulting in awkward and confusing tangents. There are any number of issues to juggle and sometimes they can throw a real stick in your spokes. After decades of practicing a direct painting method, these bazillions of decisions made on the fly still feel like a high wire act. Generally speaking, I'm fairly certain I can eventually solve problems that come up but the bigger question is whether I can solve them without interrupting the flow and freshness of the painting.  Getting results I'm pleased with seems to require letting go and a bit of magic I'm not entirely in control of, but with every attempt, from arrangement to finishing touches, visual simplicity is a guiding principle.

      I've seen little evidence to suggest that a lot of painters share my enthusiasm for Easter or Trumpet Lilies, but especially with the foreshortening, they can be somewhat intimidating. Anyway, they still are a fun challenge to me and for any of you who are up for joining me in 2024 and beyond, I've listed some tips on working with them in this Painting Lilies blog post from last year. One important piece of advice --- start looking in the stores a week before Easter for the best selection!

”It is necessary to keep one's compass in one's eyes and not in the hand, for the hands execute, but the eye judges.” --- Michaelangelo