Eric: Frequently I am asked, especially from my workshop participants, how I developed my “loose” painting style. This question always puzzles me because an assumption is made: the term “developed” implies intention. My painting style is not something I sought out; it is only a reflection of my personality and artistic likes and dislikes.
Early in art school (American Academy of Art – Chicago) I found myself attracted to the bold brushwork of the Impressionists and classical masters such as Sargent, Sorolla, Fechin, and others, as opposed to the Salon genre widely accepted on the Eve of Impressionism. A year earlier I had escaped the tedium (to me, at least) of a corporate job and the last thing I desired was more of the same. I saw the opportunity of emotional release, excitement, Nirvana! Or whatever it can be called, of bold brush statements incorporating simplified patterns. A more accurate assessment would be to say I felt an opportunity. I don’t think I understood art well enough to intellectualize my feelings.
I simply am not a person who enjoys detail work – bank statements, organized vacation plans, computer problems, appliance manuals, etc. I can’t even stand to think about them! Yes, I am helpless without my wife who has the mental capacity to handle the complexities of life!
Midway through art school I became quite fascinated with the power of the sketch, and I speak of it in reverent terms as I do see it as a unique art style in itself. I found myself gravitating toward the sketchy of the masters, rather than the carefully rendered works. The suggested one stroke can have so much more visual power than carefully boned-in multiple strokes. As I like to remind my students: “A fresh yet slightly false statement is much better than a tiresomely truthful one.” Watercolor is the perfect medium for the sketch, as it demands freshness over exactitude. I found that, many times, when I spent more time on a painting to get it “just right,” that it would go flat on me, lose its power and freshness. Towards the end of my schooling, I was fortunate in that my instructors saw the potential I had with this technique and encouraged me with scholarships; they could have easily discouraged me since I was not painting in their own style. I pursued this vein of technique and was known in my last year of school as “the loose watercolorist who paints boats.” I guess I am a visual poet, not a novelist.
Many times students would ask me how I know the painting is working out so well when I am so close to it – one has to stand back to see it come together. The answer is “I don’t know!” It just simply has never been much of a problem for me – maybe my eye is constantly traveling all over the painting and I try not to let it get stuck in one spot. (I have a mirror in my studio that allows me to view the painting from a distance as I hold it up.)
Two years ago, as a neophyte in the art world, I would tell myself,“It’s time to settle down and do a detailed painting – but not today! I’ll do it tomorrow.” Well, I guess I still haven’t settled down yet. I still have to stay with what is most fun. (I had one teacher who pressed upon us to paint in a way that is the most enjoyable for us – the joy will show up in the painting.) And that joy will be shared by the viewer. Students have frequently caught me saying, “I like to get it down, get it done, and get to lunch!”
We welcome your questions. Please send them to: watercolors@ericwiegardt.com
Question: Did you always paint loose?
Eric: Frequently I am asked, especially from my workshop participants, how I developed my “loose” painting style. This question always puzzles me because an assumption is made: the term “developed” implies intention. My painting style is not something I sought out; it is only a reflection of my personality and artistic likes and dislikes.
Early in art school (American Academy of Art – Chicago) I found myself attracted to the bold brushwork of the Impressionists and classical masters such as Sargent, Sorolla, Fechin, and others, as opposed to the Salon genre widely accepted on the Eve of Impressionism. A year earlier I had escaped the tedium (to me, at least) of a corporate job and the last thing I desired was more of the same. I saw the opportunity of emotional release, excitement, Nirvana! Or whatever it can be called, of bold brush statements incorporating simplified patterns. A more accurate assessment would be to say I felt an opportunity. I don’t think I understood art well enough to intellectualize my feelings.
I simply am not a person who enjoys detail work – bank statements, organized vacation plans, computer problems, appliance manuals, etc. I can’t even stand to think about them! Yes, I am helpless without my wife who has the mental capacity to handle the complexities of life!
Midway through art school I became quite fascinated with the power of the sketch, and I speak of it in reverent terms as I do see it as a unique art style in itself. I found myself gravitating toward the sketchy of the masters, rather than the carefully rendered works. The suggested one stroke can have so much more visual power than carefully boned-in multiple strokes. As I like to remind my students: “A fresh yet slightly false statement is much better than a tiresomely truthful one.” Watercolor is the perfect medium for the sketch, as it demands freshness over exactitude. I found that, many times, when I spent more time on a painting to get it “just right,” that it would go flat on me, lose its power and freshness. Towards the end of my schooling, I was fortunate in that my instructors saw the potential I had with this technique and encouraged me with scholarships; they could have easily discouraged me since I was not painting in their own style. I pursued this vein of technique and was known in my last year of school as “the loose watercolorist who paints boats.” I guess I am a visual poet, not a novelist.
Many times students would ask me how I know the painting is working out so well when I am so close to it – one has to stand back to see it come together. The answer is “I don’t know!” It just simply has never been much of a problem for me – maybe my eye is constantly traveling all over the painting and I try not to let it get stuck in one spot. (I have a mirror in my studio that allows me to view the painting from a distance as I hold it up.)
Two years ago, as a neophyte in the art world, I would tell myself,“It’s time to settle down and do a detailed painting – but not today! I’ll do it tomorrow.” Well, I guess I still haven’t settled down yet. I still have to stay with what is most fun. (I had one teacher who pressed upon us to paint in a way that is the most enjoyable for us – the joy will show up in the painting.) And that joy will be shared by the viewer. Students have frequently caught me saying, “I like to get it down, get it done, and get to lunch!”
We welcome your questions. Please send them to: watercolors@ericwiegardt.com