We've all spent hours applying paint to one or another canvas, frustrated with the feeling that it's 'not quite right'. Putting a finger on the 'thing' that's wrong is strangely hit or miss; another turn of the Rubiks cube just to find the puzzle is one step farther from being solved. The answer lies in two things. First, recognizing what a successful painting is, and second, understanding how to effectively self-critique. Since self-critique is deep enough for it's own discussion, let's start with the successful painting here.A successful painting is a complete visual document with a clear purpose that is 'read' by the viewer. To illustrate, consider the broad spectrum of written documents encountered from day to day: advertisements, newspapers, grocery lists, fictional novels, the Bible, the Constitution, notes, etc. Each is successful for it's own intended purpose, and is important within the context of it's usage. The same is true for a painting, or 'visual document'. A pencil sketch of a pigeon in the park is valuable in the same way that a shopping list is, while the Mona Lisa by Leonardo is more akin to a historically sacred work. Both are successful for different reasons. An unsuccessful painting is an incomplete visual document with a vague purpose that is illegible to the viewer. An unsuccessful painting is like a grocery list that begins 'once upon a time', or a novel that reads 'orange juice, eggs, etc.'. Neither accomplish the purpose for which they were written.
Back in the day when traditional academic painting was taught as a craft, the students were drilled in the basic 'grammar' of subject matter, drawing, composition, execution, and surface treatment using a series of proven methods designed for them to achieve profficiency. The goal was to create an image that was as accurate and as realistic as humanly possible, without showing any signs of how it was accomplished. The artist's personality was only present in the choice and treatment of subject matter, and signature. Here's a place to find examples of this: http://www.artrenewal.org/ . You will find there that William Bougereau was an outstanding example of an artistic master in the academic genre. Artists who were either incapable or unwilling to undergo rigorous academic training eventually splintered off and began new conceptual 'disciplines' that are now refered to as various 'ism's . . . i.e.: Impressionism, Expressionism, Cubism, etc. These each have their own purposes, focused on communicating various emotional and psychological messages. But, you may ask, what does this odd assortment of paintings have in common ? The artist in each case chose a specific visual language, or perhaps even a dialect of that language, to author a 'visual document' with a clear purpose. How is this done ?
The way to approach creating a successful painting is the same as used when writing a successful document. Start with a clear purpose that can be written down in one sentence. For example: 'This document will be a grocery list of the ingredients for dinner tonight'. In the case of the painting above, the statement might read like this: 'This painting will describe the stormy, turbulent waters surrounding Minot lighthouse in Cohasset, Massachusetts and how a schooner in that environment would dramatically struggle against the wind for survival.' Is there anything in the painting that does not contribute to that statement ? Is there anything that distracts the viewer from reading that message? What if the color of the water was too bright so that it looked sunny ? What if the shape of the rocks was unnatural or the size of the boat seemed too big for it's environment ? What if the schooner was badly drawn and looked more like a toy ? These are the kinds of specific questions that help to create a successful painting. The time to title a painting is not after you have finished, and are desperately trying to invent something poetic or clever.
Pull a painting from your stack of unfinished clunkers and write a specific title for what that painting is meant to document. You had an idea or an inspiration when you first began; perhaps that is the purpose you wish to continue with. Perhaps you have strayed so far from communicating this message, that you will have to direct your efforts towards something else. The time to title a painting is before you begin, even if you entitle it, 'Expressing how I feel about lollipops on a Monday morning in June.' Why ? Because whether you know it or not, somewhere in your psyche there is a reason why you are creating this particular painting, and once you clarify it for yourself, it will be something worth documenting. Whatever the case, everything about that painting must draw attention to the purpose for which it was created. A vague purpose creates a vague painting, and 'untitled', however popular it is with contemporary artists, is NOT a title. 'Untitled' as a title might just as well read, 'I surrender'. Philosophical and psychological discussion has become a crutch for lame artists who lean on the viewer for help in a search for purpose. Saying that you want the viewer to 'be uninfluenced by the artist and interpret the painting for themselves and contribute to it's context by their presence' is a reason to stop painting altogether. Why create a decorative object and introduce it to an environment at all ? If this anonymity is truly what you desire, then don't sign your work. When a painting is 'untitled', then the signature becomes the title and purpose.
Finally, there are works of art that seem unexplicable. Their appearance is so random that they could have been created by seagulls walking through paint at a landfill, or a tornado in a paint factory. These are created purely for social intrigue and shock value, generating the same kind of curious interest that a train wreck does. Most people create paintings for the purpose of decoration and adornment of their environment, hoping to exhibit something that is visually attractive to the viewer. The painting that accomplishes this starts with a clear purpose and is crafted without visual distraction . . . .
this IS a Successful Painting.
