The paintings above are by John Singer Sargent.
A few years back I watched Richard Whitney demonstrate portrait painting at the Copley Society in Boston and he gave a great slide show of his work speaking candidly of his career in portraiture. Mr. Whitney is a Boston School trained artist having spent years studying under R.H. Ives. Gammell. His start to painting his portrait was to be very similar to that of other artists I would study with, however Mr. Whitney works in a highly realistic style. He later mailed me a booklet he'd written called "Painting the Visual Impression" which discusses some of the Boston School tradition, as well as principles of painting—a fair amount surprisingly about impressionism.
The day of the demonstration he spoke of how painting is a battle. This resonated with me. When one realizes that artists who have been working at the very top of the field for decades are really working to pull together paintings on some days, it is a sobering thought. In addition I have heard this from/about other artists who have painted for decades. Yes, it's comforting I suppose to know they are losing and finding a painting like the rest of us, but it's also alarming that on some level it does not get easier. However much of this is because these artists, like me, are continually pushing themselves to be better!
Regardless, if one is going into battle they need a weapon or medium.
Each day when an artist starts the day and picks their medium it is a deeply conscious choice. I recently have gone back to my roots and worked in charcoal and pastel for a few pieces.
Here is how I see the various mediums, particularily in portraiture, in the hands of the same artist. Charcoal drawing is like juggling two balls. One must find the path and the values to get it right. Pastel is a step more complex— 3 balls. You've added color of the pastel and pastel paper. Sometimes feels like one is doing a puzzle as one searches for the right color-value.
The next step up in complexity is oil painting: 4 balls to juggle. Now you have the properties of paint, mediums and brushes, as well as drying time to contemplate. You must also be able to mix the color-value you wish for. In one of my classes one day a friend was annoyed as I rolled out my pastels, "I have to mix all these colors." she aptly noted, as she labored in oils to paint a figure in natural light (This is exceedingly difficult.). She was "in battle" as I note here, so I was not bothered at all by this. I agreed with her! When teaching I have found that color mixing and drawing are the most taxing skills for student artists to develop. . .I spend most of my time helping students mix the right color, as well as correcting their drawings. And now to watercolor portraiture, 5 balls in the air—you may not be necessarily be painting fast, but you'd better nail everything right the first time. Truly gorgeous watercolor portraiture is in my book a rare event.
Having said all that, I think it's wonderful for artists to alternate as least once in a while between a few chosen mediums. I think it's like cross-training. One sport (or medium) informs the next sport and works in concert to improve the artist's skill set.
How many artists can really paint in all of these mediums with excellence? Not many, but Mr. Kinstler has worked in all of these mediums with great finesse and his golden mastery. He casually picked up a small pastel set at one point in his career and painted the most amazing double-lit portrait. Most of us are armed with huge displays of colors and pick out new colors much as some would go about choosing Godiva chocolates.
I have recently been looking at John Singer Sargent's outdoor watercolor portraits and figures, some done as quick preparatory "sketches". They are utterly ethereal.
Sonia Hale is an award-winning, nationally-collected artist in Boston. She paints commissioned portraits for families and institutions nationwide. Her original landscape and still life oil paintings can be purchased at http://www.soniahale.com. For more information, go to http://www.soniahale.com.
