You’ve heard the expression, “Variety is the spice of life.”  Well, it’s the spice of painting too, both with regard to color and to line. You will note in the paintings of masters, such as my former teacher Bill Schultz, that we see in their painting stage a variety of strokes. Sometimes they are tender. Sometimes they are bold and obtrusive. Sometimes the underpainting shows through, other times not. At times we use texture. Sometimes a touch of medium. It all depends, very much like a conversation. One doesn’t speak in a monotone like those computer voices. Instead, we use emphasis, drawing out a word, or whispering, or raising our voice. Sometimes we pause. Sometimes our words flow quickly like a raging river. If our art is to be expressive, we need marks on the canvas that reflect the gamut of emotion that corresponds to the visual experience we are having.

All of the above pertains to line as well as color. Here are some examples taken from a pastel drawing by Schultz. Above is a photo taken mid-way of an underpainting of a still life (grapes, apples, leaves) using chalk pastels, on a middle value grey canson paper.

Unlike with oil painting, the process in using chalk pastels asks that we first establish a monotone or 3 value study where we scumble in the lights and darks, allowing the middle value of the paper to show through, where we see middle values – hence 3 values.

The variety of line, and thus expressive feeling, is astonishing. (Granted, with a drawing medium, it becomes easier to get these sorts of lines than with a brush.) One can see that Schultz is squinting and comparing in order to see value relationships. He is exploring, finding places where lines or separations of values are found and other places where they are lost. Another obvious take away is that this work at this point is complete. It’s art. Schultz could stop here and we could look at this work and enjoy it for the rest of our lives, noticing the variety of emphasis, movement, and value transitions.

Notice the simplification (above). He has treated the bunch of grapes as a mass, with the top plane reflecting the light. The paper peeks through on side planes of this mass, being a little darker. The same is true for the apple on the left. And to the bottom left we see something, but what? We do not know – except that whatever it is, it is reflecting light beyond its perimeter. Schultz is responding to light after all, not grapes and apples.

I love the wonderful messiness of it all. It isn’t literal. Look at how the lines are going every which way (above). These lines are not making reference to apples and leaves. Instead the apples and leaves are simply prompts triggering in Schultz an emotional response that he is expressing in line. Notice, too, how his treatment of the light on the apple isn’t confined to an outline of an apple; the light is shimmering beyond the apple.

Could he have had this experience had he been working from a photograph?

In this close up (above), we can see how masterfully Schultz is allowing the middle value of the paper to function as the middle value of the subject, the top of a leaf for example or the sides of the apple.

In the image above we see that Schultz has now begun to establish, further, an assemblage of line corresponding to places where values separate. Notice that he didn’t begin with this level of specificity, but slowly found his way into it. The process of a painting or a pastel is parallel to an image developing in a dark room or a person growing. It’s alive. It’s unfolding. It’s becoming. And because of this, it is always complete, just as a 4-year old is as complete as someone who is 80.

As the work unfolds, Schultz finds in the mass of grapes those individual grapes that separate in value, some quite insistently, others just barely. Think variety.

Notice the strong line on the left of the apple (above). Clearly the value separation there is intense. But notice also, at the base of the same apple, where there must be a middle value shadow, there is no line. Remember, we don’t use lines to indicate darks. We use lines to indicate separations of value.

Look closely at these leaves and this apple. Do they look like outlines of things? Or do they look like someone playing with line, enjoying the line, someone working in a realm where wonder is revitalized?

This is drawing as enchantment.

We have seen two images taken from the process of an artist responding to the visual sensations of apples and grapes. The apples and grapes function merely as a prompt, as an assemblage of sensations with which the artist engages in some way. Each of us would respond differently, uniquely, if our response was sincere and in the moment. The study above is a Schultz.

In this very last image we see a snapshot of an artist in motion. Bam! Look at that strong, unadulterated line on the side of the grape – and on the side of the apple. It works. How? Why? A kind of mystery? Or magic? Don’t know. But I’m compelled to keep looking at it. And I’m compelled to keep looking at it precisely because it is not a picture of freaking apples and grapes.

I’ll end where I began: VARIETY. We only bore our viewers when we demonstrate skill, when we make pictures of things. I suppose if one wishes to point to something, or to make reference to something, then fine, use line and color to make a skillful rendering. The problem is that, then, the artist drops out of the picture. On the other hand, in this approach, it is all about the artist expressing and becoming who he is.