MARK MITCHELL Paintings & Drawings

A painting is, by definition, a still image; however, it is one that is capable of displaying a great range of motion should the artist wish to do so. When composing a piece, the artist can choose whether to depict a still scene or portray life in full motion, with very different results even when the scene is, at heart, quite similar.

Indeed, it is quite possible that motion can be present even in compositions which, at first glance, appear to be quite unmoving, using a subtle sense of movement which enhances the piece when perceived.

Bertram Nicholls, The weir at Windsor

At first glance, The weir at Windsor by Bertram Nicholls may appear to be a serene and unmoving landscape, however by examining the details you can see motion throughout the composition. At the right, the titular weir spills a tightly-managed fury of white water, and in the centre foreground a fisherman is seen standing braced against the tug of his line. The trees which dominate the piece seem to sway in a rustling breeze, which at the same time sends the grey and white clouds scudding across the sky.

In other pieces, the motion is more palpable; a central aspect of the composition itself.

Alfred Olsen, Shipping along the coast

Shipping along the coast, by the Danish artist Alfred Olsen, is a far more immediately dynamic kind of scene; the motion of the waves is more noticeable than even the eponymous ships. The breaking of the waves upon the shore is so expertly detailed that one can almost smell the brine. This active and forceful sea is offset by the calmer expanse of the sky, yet there is motion here too, as the clouds stretch across the piece, driven by the same winds that move the ships.

Albert Ludovici, Jr. Monsieur Coulon’s dancing class

In Monsieur Coulon’s dancing class, the artist Albert Ludovici Jr portrays the motion of the dance with the sweep and swirl of the ladies’ dresses and the varied positions of the figures. It is a spontaneous composition, full of the moment and almost ready to dance off the canvas. This sense of life is enhanced by the bright, lively colours of the palette. The pastoral scene in which the dance is set is rendered in an altogether sketchier and less detailed manner, evoking a sense of focus on the moving figures while the still landscape behind blurs away in comparison.

One genre in which motion is most noticeably absent is, of course, the still life, yet even here we can often perceive the effects of motion.

In certain still life oil paintings by artists such as George Weissbort and Stephen Rose, we see a more spontaneous and even naturalistic composition.

George Weissbort, In the studio: a break for Pepsi

This piece by Weissbort echoes more traditionalist still life works, albeit portraying a plastic bottle and an ashtray of dogends rather than the more classical decanter and plate. There is an air that these things have been almost thrown there, placed carelessly rather than arranged, and thus they retain a sense of the motion that put them into their place.

Stephen Rose, Cherries in a foil container with a glass

By contrast, in Stephen Rose’s Cherries in a foil container with a glass, the composition appears more constructed; set against an undefined background, it has less of a natural air. It is a perfectly static composition, with no hint even of motion in the glass of water. Yet still, there is evidence of motion in the battered foil container; this is clearly not an item that has always been at rest.

Whether the artist has chosen to portray stillness or motion in their composition, they create a moment frozen in time and pigments; a motion captured, or stillness preserved, for many years to come. Perhaps it is this aspect that offers the true beauty of a painting; that it creates a moment that you can always return to.

“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” – Pablo Picasso.

For centuries, art has been an escape and a retreat from the reality of life for both artists and art-lovers alike. From historical sculptures to seascape paintings they have provided a means of processing pain, joy, distress, tranquillity and every other emotion and state of being. But what separates a great artist from every other person with a paintbrush, pencil or lump of clay?

Terry Watts, Driving in Rain (M11 in Cambridgeshire)

“I found I could say things with colour and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way… things I had no words for.” – Georgia O’Keeffe

The first question we must ask is ‘Is art subjective?’ Is it merely a matter of opinion, or is it something that we can pin down and categorically state whether a painting, sculpture or sketch is good or not? That is a huge question, and one that we can’t answer in one blog post (if ever)! However, it’s an interesting way to start the discussion of what makes a great artist.

“The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.” – Émile Zola

One school of thought states that the quality of a piece of art is solely based on what is taken away by those who view it. For example, there are some great works of art that inspire or move people. If this is what we are looking for in order to label truly great art, it opens up the door for many artists to be known as great.

George Weissbort, The Rooftops of Ostend

“Painting is a faith, and it imposes the duty to disregard public opinion.” – Vincent Van Gough

The next question we should ask ourselves is ‘Must an artist produce great art to be a great artist?’ If we accepted the claim that all art is subjective, then does it follow that a great artist must produce great art? Is it so cut and dry, or is there more to it than that? Perhaps the only element that is needed to create a truly great artist is the ability to create art at all?

“Drawing is the honesty of the art. There is no possibility of cheating. It is either good or bad.” – Salvador Dali

If we take a look at the lives and careers of some of the world’s greatest artists, we will see that some of them were not considered to be great while they were alive. For example, Vincent Van Gough was a failing and starving artist while he was alive. He created more than 2000 paintings, yet only sold two of them during his lifetime. Plagued with mental illness and the reality of his lack of success, he took his own life at 37. Little did he know that, less than 100 years later, he would be regarded as one of the greatest artists to have ever lived. These days, his paintings sell for incredible sums of money. So what was it that changed, and why is his once irrelevant collection now admired so widely and fervently?

Edward Esson, Boats on the Norfolk Broads

“Fine art is that in which the hand, the head, and the heart of man go together.” – John Ruskin

Many of us would agree that Van Gough was always a great artist – his paintings have not changed since his death, but public opinion has. Perhaps he was ahead of his time, and his paintings found relevance in the years after he died. It is hard to truly know why it is that he was not appreciated during his life, but maybe this suggests that art is objective. It is ever changing, just as those who appreciate it continue to change.

“Every good painter paints what he is.” – Jackson Pollock

With such a huge question, it is difficult to come to a real conclusion. It is something that we must make our own decisions about. Perhaps a great artist is someone who can create a technically great piece of art, or maybe a great artist is someone who can make people experience something through their work. If an artist can put a little of themselves into their art, then just maybe, they truly are a great artist.

When considering an artistic composition, it is natural to first attend to what is there; the figures, objects or landscapes which the artist has chosen to portray. However, there is often just as much meaning in what is absent; empty spaces can speak volumes.

Negative space – the area around and between the subject of the composition – is an important factor in artistic composition, and is used by artists in a wide range of media. There are many ways in which the use of negative space can affect the viewer; it can evoke particular emotions and feelings depending on its use.

Whilst it is referred to as “negative” space, it has by no means a negative connotation; emptiness has its own virtues, as expressed by Taoist philosopher Lao Tzu in the Tao Te Ching:

We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that holds whatever we want.

We hammer wood for a house,
but it is the inner space
that makes it liveable.

In traditional Chinese and Japanese art, the use of empty space is given the name yohaku; large areas were left blank and unpainted, and these blank spaces were considered to be a vital part of the composition, just as important as the painted spaces. In Western art, the blank spaces are often painted blanks, but they are nonetheless vital to the piece as a whole.

Stephen Rose, Nude, standing, looking left

The stark white background to Stephen Rose’s Nude, standing, looking left accentuates the purity of the figure and allows the viewer to focus on the model. Note that there is more space to the left of the painting, where the model’s gaze lies, than there is behind her to the right; this gives a sense of uncrowded space and creates a subtle air of serenity. If the figure were placed further to the left, it would create a sense of isolation and loneliness instead; an altogether different study.

 Stephen Rose, A tray of eggs

Remaining with Stephen Rose for the moment, we can see how emptiness is used in his still life, A tray of eggs. Not only is the titular tray set against an empty background, placing it in an almost abstract space rather than clearly in the familiar context of a kitchen countertop, but the tray itself is largely empty, too. The opalescent swirl of the background is echoed in the colours of the six white eggs, lending emphasis to the single brown egg. The empty spaces in the tray can be thought-provoking, leading the viewer to wonder why those eggs in particular have been left; the symbolism of the egg as life, birth and innocence lends a particular poignancy to their absence.

 Sigvard Hansen, A farmstead in a coastal landscape, Fanø, 1917

In both landscape and seascape paintings, the artist can choose to create a kind of empty space with the sky; rather than filling the space with elaborate cloud formations, flying birds or the like, they may choose to portray an empty sky, either depicting a clear day or seamless cloud cover. In Sigvard Hansen’s A farmstead in a coastal landscape, the horizon is placed low, leaving the space of the sky to dominate the composition. This creates an air of remoteness, evoking the feeling of standing beneath the endless open sky of the countryside.

Martin Swan, Boats moored at Cowes

Martin Swan’s seascape of Boats moored at Cowes uses an almost ethereal dawn sky, with layers of transparent pigment building up an expanse of rose blending into gold, from which the boats themselves emerge. The tall mast of the foremost boat breaks the sky in two, and the overall effect is one of expectancy and beginnings; of things about to change.

As you can see, empty spaces in artwork are not simply an absence of content; they are their own content, and carry their own meanings. By noticing the emptiness, the absences in the piece as well as what is present, you can see more of the whole.

Reflections have always been an important part of art composition. Even the very earliest artists were aware that some surfaces – still water, shiny objects, even the eyes of a person or animal – would hold reflections, and would have realised that depicting them without said reflections would lead to a flat and unrealistic appearance. The invention of the mirror, and even the rise in metalworking before that, led to an increased potential for reflections in artistic work, and over the years many artists have made reflections a significant part of their work.

Anon, after Francis C.B. Cadell – Elizabeth at the Castle Tea Rooms

Francis Campbell Boileau Cadell is one artist who is particularly known for using mirrors in his compositions. Many of his works, including The Black Hat, At The Mirror 1913, Nude Seated on a Sofa, and Reflections (the latter of which inspired the anonymous composition seen above) set a figure beside or in front of a mirror, allowing the artist to depict the model from more than one angle. In his interiors, Cadell made effective use of mirrors to enhance and play with the light, and to expand the portrayed area; reflections are also found in The Red Chair to portray a well-polished floor.

 Joseph De Belder – Still Life with Arum Lilies

Mirrors can also be used to enhance the composition of a still life; Cadell again provides an example in Still Life With A White Buddha And A Porcelain Buffalo, as does De Belder in the example above. In these cases, where the mirror in the image faces outwards, we see the interesting dichotomy of a painted mirror; it reflects the objects in the frame, but naturally does not reflect the observer as a true mirror would.

Another telling aspect of the use of mirrors and reflections is in the choice of what is reflected; particularly the artist themselves. In many cases, the point of view and the angle of the mirror should, if portrayed exactly as observed, show the artist, but he or she has chosen to remove themselves. In other cases, the artist is indeed present, such as in Dali from the Back Painting Gala from the Back Eternalized by Six Virtual Corneas Provisionally Reflected by Six Real Mirrors by Spanish surrealist painter Salvador Dali. One famous example where the artist is thought to be present – yet only in a very subtle and almost imperceptible way – is the Arnolfini wedding portrait by Early Netherlandish painter Jan Van Eyck; the convex mirror at the back of the portrayed room appears to show two additional figures, which some commentators believe to be the artist and an unnamed other, although others believe it is intended to portray the two required witnesses to the marriage.

 Henri Jacques Delpy – Evening on the river

Away from the world of mirrors and man-made materials, reflections remain an important part of many landscape paintings, particularly those portraying large bodies of water. Landscapes such as Delpy’s Evening on the river (above) make excellent use of reflections in the still water of their scene to evoke a sense of calm and tranquillity; a similar scene with distorted reflections indicating the rushing of a hurried river would create a different atmosphere altogether.

 Andrew A. Wood – Axmouth

Similarly, in Andrew Wood’s Axmouth, the reflections highlight the stillness of the water and emphasise the idea that activity is brought to rest in the moored boats; this sense of stillness and peace thus fills the frame, whereas a similar composition with broken reflections would seem more harried.

Reflections and mirrors are, of course, not restricted to the world of paintings; they are also frequently at the heart of today’s most ubiquitous form of portrait, the “selfie”. It seems unlikely that these images will ever be treasured in the same way as the painstaking creations of great artists – but the future is hard to predict, and many an artist was unrecognised in their time.

Fibonacci was an Italian mathematician in the late 11^th and early 12^th Century, credited with bringing the Arabic numeral system to Europe and introducing the use of the number zero and the decimal place. His name is today remembered for the Fibonacci Sequence; an integer sequence whereby each number is the sum of the two preceding numbers:

1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34 (and so on)

Although it may not seem obvious, there is a strong connection between this mathematical sequence and the composition of artwork. By visualising each number as a square (increasing in size, in the same way as the sequence) and connecting the opposite corners of each square, you can create the Fibonacci Spiral.

The Fibonacci Sequence is intimately connected with another mathematical construct, the Golden Ratio (two quantities whose ratio is the same as the sum of the total to the larger ratio). If this is all getting a little confusing, don’t fear, we shall now leave the numbers behind.

The Golden Ratio is sometimes called the Divine Ratio. Mathematicians found that it was abundant in nature, in places as diverse as the proportions of the human face, the flowering of an artichoke, and the ancestry of the ideal bee.

Artists recognised that the Fibonacci Spiral is an expression of an aesthetically pleasing principle – the Rule of Thirds. This is used in the composition of a picture; by balancing the features of the image by thirds, rather than strictly centring them, a more pleasing flow to the picture is achieved.

From the Renaissance onwards, artists have – whether purposefully or simply by instinct – created dramatic and attractive paintings which demonstrate the Fibonacci Spiral in their composition. One excellent example is Robert Greenham’s Tango Final of British Championship, Blackpool, 1969.

As you can see in the image above, the entire composition is perfectly outlined by two Fibonacci spirals, which trace the line of the spotlit dance floor, the skirts and arms of the dancers, and even the curve of the central lady’s neck, and place the focus perfectly on the two foremost couples. This complex, abstract composition makes it very easy to see the Fibonacci sequence at play, following the bold lines as it does, however it can also be found in other, more naturalistic compositions.

In David Oyens’ Young woman reading in the studio, 1901, the Fibonacci spiral can be seen in the model’s pose; the innermost point of the spiral is placed on her eye, lending focus to her peaceful activity. From here, it takes in the curve of her head and shoulder, with a line extending along her forearm, before sweeping out to encompass the chair, the vertical line of the window, and the angle of the easel in the background.

The same principle can also be discerned in paintings without the human element; Hugh Wilkinson’s View of a New Forest Stream, 1909 also shows the flow of the Fibonacci spiral. In this landscape, the outermost curve of the spiral is echoed roughly in the shape of the darker clouds, the upper right square is delineated by the horizon and one of the higher treetops, whilst the lower sweep of the spiral is echoed by the bank. The centre of the spiral curves around the vanishing point of the stream itself, again creating the perfect focal point.

In our final example, George Weissbort’s The white coffee pot, with fruit and wine illustrates the potential for use of the Fibonacci spiral in the composition of still life paintings. Here, the outer sweep of the spiral is echoed in the varying height of the items, anchored in an apple, which is only partially in the frame on the left, and tracing around the base of the pear on the right. The edges of the component squares line up with the handle of the coffee pot, the stem of the wine glass and even the contents of the glass, creating a pleasing and yet apparently natural arrangement.

The most interesting aspect of the Fibonacci spiral is, perhaps, the fact that it can be forced or simply found. Last year, it was even observed in a journalist’s photograph of brawling Ukrainian parliamentarians.

One of the biggest questions that an art theorist or historian or art lover can ask is; why do people create art? What inspires the artist? It is a question that can be applied to all forms of visual art, from landscape paintings to contemporary installations. Humans have been creating works of art since the dawn of time and by simply visiting an art gallery or museum you can see how varied this world is.

Bertram Nicholls – Abbey Ruins

So, how does an artist begin to make work, where do they find their inspiration? Well, there are many different answers to this; what is comes down to is the artist’s individual voice. In this article we aim to begin to answer this question by looking at a few areas where artists throughout time have found inspiration.

Beginning an Artwork

All art begins with an idea – whether it is clear cut and linear or simply just a feeling. Every artist will have thought; ‘what do I want to create? What do I want to say or document?’

‘What Inspires Artists?’

Reflect Beauty

Edward Wesson – On The Broads

Beauty inspires beauty and this is ever apparent in the creation of landscape paintings. Natural landscapes can provide awe-inspiring feelings that many artists wish to replicate or at least represent in their artwork. To create something beautiful is often a driving force behind creating art.

Historical Event

Often artwork was created in relation to a significant event in time; this is more common with more historical art pieces, as of course, there were no cameras to document great wars and important events. The documentation of history is an important one which is why many artists even today are still inspired by past happenings.

The Human Figure

Stephen Rose – Leticia Reclining

Perhaps one of the most documented subject matters in art history is the human figure – especially the female figure. It is interesting to see how the depiction of the female form has altered throughout history altering in size and shape. The body is a great source of inspiration; there are many different poses where artists can explore their abilities and increase their representational skills.

Emotions & Feelings

Much art has been inspired by emotions and feelings; which is why art therapy is considered to be an effective method of care and treatment for mental illness. Abstract art is often inspired by mood and emotion; however, this isn’t always the case. All humans feel emotions therefore artwork inspired by them can indeed be universal.

To Challenge Society

The role of the artist has often been to challenge society and instigate social change, it is especially apparent in the modernist era up until today. Artists such as Marcel Duchamp were inspired by the art scene at the time which was incredibly exclusive and desired to challenge it with modernist creations which were much more kitsch rather than beautiful or skilful – it was art for arts sake.

Artwork inspired by the above subjects isn’t always representational; that is the beauty of art, you can be inspired by an event or a physical landscape and create something completely unique and different.