Catching the Eye

Yesterday Duffy Masterson of Ottawa, Ontario wrote: "I've been
a photographer for longer than I care to mention and have
recently taken up painting in acrylic. I find that all the
subject matter has been expressed through my photography and
not much, if anything, catches my eye for painting. There are
always subjects to paint, but none that I want to paint. My
wife and I are packing up and moving to the B.C. Gulf Islands
in an attempt to spark the creative juices again. Have you ever
run into this kind of block?"

Thanks, Duffy. Your block is called PFS (Photo Familiarity
Syndrome) and it's as common as influenza. Some of us fight it
daily. There are many ways of looking at it and several ways of
dealing with it. Taking photos is a creative act in itself.
Some artists, as they move through their life-images, find that
less and less interests or moves them. As it becomes more
difficult to be surprised by joy in the external world,
reality-based images become used up. The trouble with
photography is that it uses up joy too quickly. Also, by
stealthily teaching dependence, photography can turn out to be
dangerous. Unlike the purist and pre-photographic masters of
landscape--Courbet, Corot, Millet, etc., by visual volume alone
it is possible to become jaded. Moving to a new environment may
not solve the problem. You need to realize that painting can
exploit a different--I didn't say greater--range of feelings
than does photography. Painting, in its most exalted forms, can
bring another kind of creative imagination into the mix. With
painting you have an opportunity to add a unique personal
spin--to put a different kind of style and signature to your
product.

For most of us, photography, in all of its marvelous
manifestations, is one of a number of tools in the kit. An
extreme purgation is to take your photo apparatus and shove it
into a vault for a year. Forget you ever did it. I know it's
tough for those of us who love to look through viewfinders and
are used to collecting images in nanoseconds. In this
deprivation, painting becomes more of a savoured event--a
timely act of deliberation, consideration and contemplation.
Painting becomes less capture and more conception. Worthwhile
subjects begin to appear from nowhere. With independent
painting you move into the lively and mysterious darkroom of
your own mind. In this place something else again is sure to
catch your eye.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "The expression of beauty is in direct ratio to the power
of conception the artist has acquired." (Gustave Courbet)

Esoterica: "What do I want to paint?" is not only the main
question, it's perhaps the only question. Many painters find
they bump along and somehow inadvertently touch on a "hot spot"
where an idea or a motif suddenly gels. It's important that
these golden occasions are recognized and noted. The artist
pauses and looks around for related and peripheral ideas that
can also be exploited. It's often in this "second generation"
where the most involving and exciting work is done. "Paintings
come out of themselves," said the great Canadian landscape
painter Lawren Harris. "The idea," said Damien Hirst, "is more
important than the object."