Friday, January 15, 2021

Musings About Mentors


Rob Howard, Self portrait ca.1975

The other day while I was toning a canvas, a decades-old comment from one of my teachers came to mind. He was showing how he went about the task, leaving paint streaky as he drew his big brush across the canvas. Some people want a flawless, featureless tone, but "streaks were good enough for Rubens," he said, because the lighter streaks added brilliance and interest, even when painted over. Good advice that I've followed ever since. The teacher was Roberts Howard, who taught many, including me.

As the painting progressed, other voices from other times kept coming up. Words from mentors, teachers, and even famous masters come back as I work, so that once in a while I silently thank them. 



William Whitaker, "Primary Trio," oil on canvas

Bill Whitaker
was another friend and mentor. He taught individually, in workshops, and at BYU. His work spanned everything from still life to Western art to exquisite portraiture. After several years of workshops and personal talks with Bill, I built a collection of his aphorisms, each worth more every time I recall it:

  • "Go slowly." Spend the majority of your time looking, not painting. Study the subject twice as long as you use your brush. One of my worst habits is to neglect to study my subject fully, which leads to dithering brush strokes and muddy colors.
  • "When in doubt, use a bigger brush." This particular piece of advice isn't original to Bill, but he  repeated it incessantly. John Sargent was supposed to have said "Start with a broom...and end with a needle," meaning use big brushes first and leave the small ones for last. Your brush strokes will be more active and vigorous.
  • "Violate your edges," may be the most valuable of these because it comes to mind during virtually every painting I make, regardless of medium. Bill used to add, "You'll be glad you did." When done carefully, violating edges means softness in the painting. It's another bad habit to paint up but not into an edge in a painting, giving the work a completely different and less realistic look. 

There are many such moments for most artists, I suspect. And when they come, we give our mentors a silent, heartfelt nod of thanks.


No comments:

Post a Comment