In Which We Learn More About the Oil Painting Commission

It’s time for an interview with the California Artist. There are questions out there about the commissioned oil painting, and the interviewer is very curious.

Why did you accept the commission to put the parents in the painting?

I am not exactly sure – because I wanted the job? Because I like challenges? Because how will I learn if I don’t attempt it? Because I took a blow to the head in some distant past that damaged my ability to say no? Because he was very insistent and I am weak under pressure?

Did you charge him more because it involves a portrait?

Nope.

Did you just say “nope”?

Yep.

For Pete’s sake, why DIDN’T you charge him more? 

Ummmm, because I have a price list based on size, not on difficulty. Because it might not turn out. Because I am weak. Because I was unprepared. Because I don’t paint portraits and didn’t have a plan.

You aren’t really that desperate for work, are you?

Never desperate, always eager. I want to make hay while the sun shines, strike while the iron is hot, and any other cliche you can think of that means GREAT OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN WHILE GETTING PAID!

But what if the parents don’t turn out?

I have an escape route! I told Mr. Put-My-Parents-In-The-Painting two important things: 1. He MUST tell me if he doesn’t like them because I MUST have happy customers. 2. If he doesn’t like them and I can’t fix them to his satisfaction, I get to paint them out.

Won’t that look like a mess?

With oil paint, it is fairly easy to cover over mistakes. In pencil, after a certain amount of erasing, a shadow often remains and is hard to cover.

How is the painting coming along?

I’m so glad you asked that question! Have a look at the progress:

Parents in the Picture, Day 3

Accepting the Challenge

Mr. Put-My-Parents-In-This-Picture also wanted to discuss price and size of his commissioned oil painting. Since I am tuned in to the business of art, I have a price list based on size. It doesn’t include added surcharges for rush jobs or requests to put one’s parents in the picture. Instead of negotiating for a price, the decisions are in the hands of the customer. How big? Then it is this much. Easy!

Mr. Put-My-Parents-In-This-Picture (PMPITP) pointed to a painting in my studio and said, “That’s what, $200? You can do it that size, right?”

Umm, no, it is $500.

Mr. PMPITP: “Well, could you do it for $300 if I paid you cash up front?”

Am I selling used cars here?? Umm, no. And I’d only like half down, thanks.

Mr. PMPITP: “What size can you do for $300?”

First, how about if we settle the issue of putting your parents in the picture? I’ve never painted a face, and when I accept portrait commissions, I charge a TON of money because it is REALLY REALLY hard to capture a likeness. And, I NEVER draw a face smaller than an egg.

Much discussion ensued. Here is the result so far:

Oil painting commission in progress

This is after 2 days of fretting and sweating. Things always look terrible the first several passes over the canvas. More will be revealed in the fullness of time.

Have you ever regretted accepting a challenge? (I’m not saying I regret this. I think.) Want to share here?

 

Only From The Back

Commissions are a challenge. They are a main component of the business of art, so unless you like a good challenge, you may want to rethink a career as an artist in a rural place like Three Rivers.

Back about 6 years ago, a man asked me to draw his parents house in pencil. No problem. That’s what I did (and still do). Then he asked me to paint it in oil.

Since I’d been painting about 10 minutes when he asked, I thought it prudent to refuse. But, being helpful and knowing lots of people, I referred him to a well-established artist.

He was happy with the drawing. I never heard from him about the painting until the Redbud Festival in Three Rivers in May. He said he “hated it”. I asked if he discussed it with the artist, and he said he hadn’t because he figured it was a done deal.

Being an opportunistic artist, I told him I could paint the house for him now. He liked the idea.

A week later, he came to my studio and laid out 6 photos. He wanted to know which I wanted to paint.

I said, “umm, well, I need to look and absorb and think a bit”.

He wanted an immediate answer. I felt pressured. I picked one, and he said, “That’s the view you drew, remember?”

Actually, no, I don’t. It was 6 years ago and a few drawings and paintings have passed through my hands since then. “A few?” More like several hundred!

Then, he pulled out a photo of his parents and said, “Will you put them in the painting?”

I almost fell over. Or, as they say in the South, “I like to died!”

I explained that my experience in painting people is limited to the back views.

To be continued. . .

Sisters, an oil painting commission
Walk This Way, oil on board, private collection
One With the Stream

One With the Stream, oil on wrapped canvas, 36×24″, $800

Would you allow yourself to be painted or photographed from the backside?? Tell me the truth here!

Random Comments About the Business of Art

This list of comments was started just after Mother’s Day weekend, when I was recovering from the Redbud Festival. Now that I read them after a snowy Memorial Day weekend, I’m slightly climatically confused. Just sayin’ (which is the popular vernacular that means “I talk to hear the sound of my own opinions”)

  • It is hard to do weekend festivals and really hard to do shows when it is hot and REALLY hard to do shows with low attendance. But I’m merely commenting, not complaining.
  •  Kodak’s online gallery is going away and I have to learn how to use Shutterfly. I’m trying to keep this in perspective, but am really in a state of semi-despair. All the of books, cards, calendars, and other cool photographic projects I’ve made will be gone. GONE! I can recreate cards in Shutterfly, but they don’t put any info on the back. Shall I order anyway and use a rubber stamp?? That is kind of tacky. I might have to do it that way. Perhaps that is fitting for a Regionalist from Quaintsville.
  • When an artist does a show, there are more benefits than the immediate sales. Here is a list: new friends, new customers, potential commissions, potential new drawing students, seeing old friends, meeting other artists, sales that happen after people go home, new blog readers.
  • A long time ago, I did a variety of shows. Had to do them all to learn which ones worked. Redbud Festival has been here the longest and is now the most enjoyable and best organized. They have generous booth sizes, good food, good music, and are kind to their exhibitors.  (Even when it is hot.)
  • Doing shows in the heat and then painting 30×40″ commissions with an unaccustomed style of Loosiosity is most exhausting. But I’m merely commenting, not complaining.

Little Brown Church© 2012, oil on board, 4×6″, private collection

Any comments (not complaints) you’d like to add?

First Peek at Commissioned Oil Painting

As promised on May 24, here is the first peek at the commissioned oil painting spoken of in two previous blog posts.

Cowboy Bert told me he has a shirt that color. I said, “It’s called wheat”.

He said, “That don’t look like wheat to me.”

I said “It is wheat as viewed from the back of a fast horse.”

He said, “I’ll buy that”.

When cowboys say “I’ll buy that”, it doesn’t mean they plan to purchase an item. It means that they agree with you. It is the cowboy equivalent of city folk saying “Word”.

Aren’t you glad I am around to explain the English language to you?

My pleasure.

And, in case you are wondering about this painting, remember the commissioner/client/customer/friend/drawing student said she loved “loosiosity”.

Bet you can figure that word out all by yourself!

Any other words you’d like the California artist to ‘splain to you?

Interview with California Artist about Commissioned Oil Painting

The process of executing a commissioned oil painting is an exciting event to watch. In this second interview with myself, you may find yourself on the edge of your seat. The interviewer will be in boring black, because the California Artist prefers teal. A lighter teal this time. Pretty, isn’t it?

How’s that commissioned oil painting coming along?

Just dandy – thanks for asking! (This California artist is unfailingly polite and always thanks and compliments her interviewer. You may have noticed this in previous interviews.)

Had any trouble?

You mean besides stabbing the canvas with a box cutter when opening the package? Nope.

How does one begin a 30×40″ painting?

Thanks for asking – only the canvas was stabbed. No blood was shed. I ordered a new one. It was really expensive.

I said, “How does one begin a 30×40” painting?

First “One” secures it in a large floor easel. Preferably said One would attach a hanging wire to the back, but sometimes “One” doesn’t have large enough hardware or strong enough wire for oil paintings of this size. Then “One” tapes the reference sketch to the easel above the canvas. In the future, could you please refer to me as California Artist, or simply as “The Artist”? 

What next, oh California Artist?

This California artist squeezes out the paint onto her palette. She works in the “double primary palette” as explained by Jack White and Mikki Senkarik here. Okay, mine is a bit modified, but it suits me. Notice the use of the word “palette” twice, each with a different meaning. Art is confusing that way, as I explained here, but using the word “medium”, which is also an irritating 2-use word in Artspeak. Those old artists didn’t make full use of the English language, but they didn’t ask my opinion because I wasn’t born yet and neither was Mr. Google.

This is titanium white, cadmium yellow light, cadmium red pale, alizarin crimson, phthalo blue (try to pronounce that – the irritating Artspeak continues), french ultramarine blue and a mix of alizarin with french ultramarine. Jack and Mikki call that color on the far right “MUD”. I call it “Jack White Purple”. 

When do we get to see the painting?

Next week. On Tuesday. I’m going silent for Memorial Day Weekend. It is a good time to reflect on the meaning of war and peace, sacrifice, freedom, and other patriotic subjects. I suggest you join me, and if you know a veteran, thank him. Thank his family. Thank her. Thank her family. Thank God for them all.

In Which The Artist Interviews Herself About a Commission

The California artist will be discussing an upcoming oil painting commission. The interviewer will be black, and The Artist will be teal, because it is her favorite color and this is her blog.

What are you working on these days?

Oh I’m so glad you asked that question! A friend/student/customer/client/all of the preceding titles told me of seeing a painting that really rocked her world. Alas! It was already sold. Being an opportunist/artist/entrepreneur, I said, “I could paint that for you.”

What was it of?

Great question – it was a wheat field with crows flying overhead.

Is it ethical to copy someone else’s painting?

Of course not! Paintings can be copyrighted (in fact the copyright is assumed in the artist’s favor) but ideas cannot. The painting she saw simply serves as the seed of the commission I will do for her.

How are you planning to make this seed grow?

She showed me a photo of it, then I looked up the subject under Google images. I saw that the most famous painting of a wheat field with crows is by Vincent Van Gogh. Next, I looked up photos of wheat fields to understand how they flow and change colors.

Will your friend/student/customer/client like it?

I believe she will love it. She chose the size that will best fit her space, which is 30×40″. She explained that she loved the “loosiosity” of the one she first saw. (Great word, yes?) Then, we discussed the proportion of sky to wheat. After that, she decided that red-tail hawks suit her more than crows.

So it is similar but different.

You got it.

Do we get to see the sketch?

Yeppers. Try to not be overly impressed with the great effort that has gone into this project so far – I know it will just render you speechless.

Have you ever seen a painting that you wanted copied for yourself?? The California artist would love to hear about it!

From Pencil Drawing to Oil Painting

During Three Rivers Artists Studio Tour Ten, some folks saw the pencil drawing of Redwood and Dogwood. They liked it, but color sells better than black and white and shades of gray, and oil paintings have a greater appeal than pencil. I LOVE PENCIL. Just sayin’.

Something new happened to me as a California artist: these people asked me if I could do an 18×24″ oil painting of the pencil drawing! What a fun challenge – not sure of which photos I used, I just decided to rely solely on the pencil drawing as my reference picture.

When the tree and background were finished, it had to dry before I began the dogwood in the foreground. I don’t have nearly as much experience painting dogwood as Sequoia trees, so I pulled out some photos for that part.

I think the flowers need to be less cultivated looking. A few stray limbs will help. It might need some growing stuff on the right. The drawing has unidentified shrubs, so I may try to make something up. If it looks fake, I can just wipe it off.  (Didn’t want you to get worried!)

The pencil drawing of Redwood & Dogwood is for sale. The shopping cart doesn’t work on my website, so you can email me for information. Sigh.

A Painting is Born

I gave a 4×6 oil painting on a little board to my friend Carol. She has it in her den. Or is it a library? Maybe it is a family room. . . Anyway, it is on a lamp table in her home, and I don’t think she just put it out because I was coming over either! (Get that rude thought out of your head.)

 

It was this scene, but much smaller. Made me feel good that she likes it, and despite being a year or more old, I still like it. (Oh no, does that mean I have plateaued in my skill??) This is by Tharp’s Log, out of Crescent Meadow, in Sequoia National Park.

Carol requested another painting, a winter scene this time. (She thinks she is commissioning me, but her money is no good to me.) While I was there, she gave me the photo she’d like me to paint.

After spending 3 days cutting the boards, painting, sanding, painting, sanding, painting, and sanding, today I chose one of those little 4×6 boards. (If my retired husband is willing to use the table saw to make 1 board, might as well have several done at once. Next, I hope he is willing to paint and sand and paint and sand.)

This is how a painting is born:

First, I drew it on with a paint brush. The little building on the left is really just an informational kiosk, so it will  not be invited into the painting. Didn’t figure it out until I had it placed. Isn’t that a rough drawing? If you didn’t already know that I can draw, you’d probably have doubts.

This is the first layer. Not a bad start, but I will layer and layer and layer some more. Seems the smaller a painting is, the more care it requires. The larger it is, the sloppier I can paint, and it still looks tight and almost photographic. I don’t know if that is good or not good, but it is how I paint. And Jack White said we should all paint the way WE paint, only better.

Hunh? Well, I got it, and it made me feel more confident in my painting.

This is in Yosemite National Park. I am a California artist, so I paint California things. (Thank you, Captain Obvious!)

(Captain Obvious has to speak these things so Mr. Google will find me.)

Signed, Sealed, Delivered. . .

. . . it’s yours!

Some artists don’t like to do commission work. Maybe they don’t like to eat, either. Or maybe they aren’t very good at understanding what other people want. Maybe they are rebellious adolescents trapped in the bodies of adults.

I like commissions.

It is a fun challenge to make a visual representation from a person’s verbal description. It is very gratifying to have a happy customer at the end of a job. It is a wonderful thing to have a sale without all the will-she-won’t-she.

During the Three Rivers Artists Studio Tour Ten, several folks asked me to paint specific things for them. As a California artist, naturally I was thrilled to receive confirmation that California poppies and giant Sequoias are always a popular subject.

These poppies were unfinished, sitting on the easel, looking like little butterflies when Amy spotted them. She asked if she could buy it before it was completed. I think I said, “Um, sure!” (Hopefully I was more polished that that.) This was painted from a photograph that my very generous mailman brought to me; he’s just thoughtful like that.

Christine asked me if I thought I could get inspired to paint a Sequoia in the snow. I said, “I’m always inspired if someone wants something.” (Hopefully I was a little more polished than that.) I went through my photos, picked one, and happily dove in, well inspired and eager to do my best for Christine. She now has it and is very happy.

That’s the goal of commissions in my little business.