When is it Finished?

"Red Striped Tablecloth"

24 x 20

It's a questions that I often struggle with: "When is it finished?" It can be hard to know when you have reached the point that your painting is complete, and it's time to stop. I find that as my painting grows closer and closer to its finish, more and more time elapses between each brush stroke. Before each new stroke, I am asking myself "Will this help the painting, or hurt it?" 

If you are a painter, you probably have experienced the anguish of crossing the line into the dreaded territory of the "over-worked". I know I have. Personally, I love to see the mark of the artist's hand, and a bit of a roadmap into how the paint was put on the canvas. In the painting below, I forced myself to stop while the most decisive brushstrokes in the shutters and facade were still evident. I like the geometry and energy they create, and I think it gives the viewer a stronger insight into my process.

"Front Stoop Garden"

24 x 20

(Sold)

Seeing Red

"Red Tablecloth"

20 x 20

(c) Lesley Powell

Recently I have been on a real rampage with the color red. I have always loved red, but have been somewhat fearful to feature it in my paintings, because it is notoriously difficult to work with. As painters would say, red is a "dark". It can be tricky to show contrast between red objects in light and red objects in shadow. For example, it can be hard to lighten red without having it turn pink or orange.

We can look to the great Renaissance masters for some truly inspiring work with red. Here is one of my favorites, an altarpiece by the Venetian painter Giovanni Bellini:

My fascination with Bellini's reds led me to a little research. I learned that some of the beautiful reds used in the past were made from crushed bugs, specifically the cochineal beetle. These beetles were used centuries ago by ancient civilizations such as the Aztecs and the Phoenicians to create red pigments and dyes. In some cases, the insets were scratched from the twigs of trees with the fingernails. Ugh! Fortunately, we have it relatively easy nowadays, with pigments that we can simply squeeze from the tube. (Of course, just because we can obtain the basic hues from a tube doesn't mean that we would actually use the paint straight from the tube. Or that mixing the right red is easy). 

My recent adventure in red began with my apron, which hangs from a peg in my studio. The apron is certainly a more humble garment than those depicted by the Old Masters. For contrast, look what Titian, the master of color, did with the fabulous red robes of the Venetian Doges. Looking at these two images side by side is like going from the ridiculous to the sublime!

For anyone who is curious about such things, the two reds I use in my palette are cadmium red light and alizarin crimson (today's synthetic for Madder lake). For a comparison of the modern cadmium red paint to its historic precedent, vermilion, Margret Short has an excellent blog entry. And stay tuned for more work in the red family!

"Red Stripes and Spoon"

16 x 20

Two for One

"Sargent Gallery"

16 x 16

Oil on Canvas
Available at Huff Harrington Fine Art, Atlanta

I have worked recently on a series of paintings depicting museum-goers. I suppose that's not surprising, since visiting art museums is always at the top of my list when traveling. When the galleries are not too crowded, I enjoy watching the visitors interacting with the art. This sort of scene makes for an interesting painting. I can't decide which is the more challenging aspect--painting the figures of the people in the museum, or painting the paintings they are looking at!

"Red Sneakers"

14 x 11

Oil on Linen
Available at Providence Gallery, Charlotte