Sorolla Writ Large

Yes, that's me pictured above. Proof positive that the Sorolla murals at the Hispanic Society  of America are larger than life! I was recently in New York, and visited this hidden treasure of a museum. 

Readers know that I am a huge fan of Joaquin Sorolla, so it is no surprise that this museum was a top priority on my trip. I had read about Sorolla's painting cycle, "Vision of Spain", and seen photographs, but nothing prepared me for the real thing. The first shock was the staggering scale of these works. The canvases are about 12 feet tall, and extend a total of almost 227 feet, covering the entire (huge) room. Walking into the space, there is a veritable explosion of color and light, impossible to capture in photos. 

Despite the mammoth size of these paintings, Sorolla painted all but one of them en plein air, traveling to the provinces of Spain to work on location. Amazing! You can see one of the paintings, "Galicia", in process on the right of the photo above. I cannot even imagine working this large on location. Note the wooden stairs to Sorolla's right--he must have needed these to reach the top of the canvas.  Here is the painting today, as installed at the Hispanic Society:

On location, Sorolla also used models dressed in traditional local costumes. His contract required him to return the costumes to the Hispanic Society--I wonder if they are ever on display?

I was astounded at the way the paintings worked at so many different levels. Each panel contained portraits as well as landscapes; intimate moments as well as sweeping vistas. Some passages were worked in great detail, others less so. The way Sorolla rendered whites was amazing and gorgeous. I wish I could find a photo that did justice to the brilliant sailor's uniforms above. And the paint application showed such joy! Just seeing those loose, gestural brushstrokes made me want to grab a brush and start swinging some paint around.

These paintings were commissioned in 1911, and were painted by Sorolla between 1913 and 1919. They represent the different regions of Sorolla's beloved homeland. The cycle was a monumental undertaking, and one of the last of Sorolla's life. The year after finishing them, Sorolla suffered a stroke, and he died in 1923. Sadly, he never realized his dream of seeing the paintings installed in New York. But on a brighter note, the paintings were sent to Spain and exhibited there between 2007 and 2010. They drew more than two million visitors, and broke attendance records at every venue. I think that Sorolla's heart would be full to know that his tribute to Spain was so well received by the people whose homeland he so grandly depicted.

Through Thick and Thin

"Sunwashed"
8 x 12, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2015

I have been thinking lately about variety. Everybody knows the saying that "Variety is the spice of life." It is also the spice of ART. If you have been reading along with me, you may recall the quote from Arthur Wesley Dow: "There is a certain beauty in a contrast of large and small. It is the opposite of Monotony." Contrasts avoid monotony. They are what give rise to variety, and they can truly make a painting sing.

Dow mentioned the contrast of large and small, but there are many other contrasts that bring life to a painting. One of them concerns

Direct Painting

"Apache Trail"
18 x 24, Oil
Richard Schmid

Another vocabulary lesson: What is "direct painting"? Direct painting is my preferred approach to painting, and yet it is hardly an everyday word. Direct painting means painting from life, usually in a single session. It is sometimes called painting "alla prima" (Italian for "at first time") or "au premier coup" (French for "all at once"). Don't you love those fancy foreign words?  In Direct painting, you stand directly in the presence of your subject, and attempt to capture your experience of it, all in one fell swoop.

"Greenwich  Village"
Richard Schmid

I have been reading Richard Schmid's book Alla Pima: Everything I Know About Painting. It's an invaluable resource. Schmid says that direct painting is "the ultimate in representational art because

Step Back!

My Set-Up, Bailey Island, 2015

I recently read a post by the acclaimed painter Carolyn Anderson. She named four simple ways to improve your paintings. One of them was this: don't forget to step back from the easel often enough and far enough. I confess that I am often guilty of failing to step back from my painting. Stepping back is such a simple thing, but it is so easy to forget when you are in the throes of painting. That's why we all need to make it a habit--something reflexive that we won't forget.

Why step back? It allows you to see the entire painting at a glance. You can see