How to Create Depth in Landscape Paintings, Part II--Tips and Techniques

"Summer Reflections"

     Our previous post discussed some principles of atmospheric perspective. This time, a few tips about achieving it in a landscape painting and other techniques for creating the appearance of depth. You may be surprised by the degree to which careful planning and analysis can be involved in painting.

     One technique I learned from my painting mentor Linda Blondheim is the use of glazes. I think glazes are particularly useful in acrylic painting because acrylic hues are usually quite sharp and clear. Distant elements in a scene should look hazy, a bit "fuzzy", and have a pale, cool hue. 

     Although I try to begin with appropriate soft tones in the background, they often need to be pushed further back visually. Acrylic glazing liquid is useful for this. Depending on the size of the area that needs to be modified, mix a puddle of acrylic glazing liquid with just a touch of blue, purple, or even soft aqua paint. After mixing it well, use a soft brush to stroke it across the area that needs softening, blending out the edges a bit so as to avoid an obvious line. Don't worry if it looks too muted or cloudy; it will usually be fine when dry. Let the area dry well (this will take somewhat longer than normal acrylic paint drying time). You can repeat the process with another layer or two until you are satisfied with the result. 

     The far background of the painting " Summer Reflections" was treated this way, and the tree just to the left of the center was also pushed back, but less dramatically (just one layer was enough to help that tree recede). The painting I showed you last time, "Look to the Hills" was painted before I knew about glazes. I remember finding it difficult to handle the distant hills, probably scrubbing on bluish purple mixed with lots of titanium white to produce that hazy appearance of distance. 

A study of a marsh scene

     The relative size of objects in a scene also helps define distance. Your eye may be better than mine, but I have discovered that I sometimes tend to make far away objects larger on canvas than they should be. Since I work from reference photos, I sometimes actually measure something on the photo, then use a proportion (oh no! math!) to translate that to my canvas. For example, if the photo is 4" vertically, and my canvas is 16" vertically, a far line of trees that is about 1/4" tall on the photo would only be about 1" tall on the canvas if I wanted to keep precisely the same proportions. 

     Of course, I do not duplicate the reference photo and am not bound by precise numbers and proportions. The exercise of measuring simply serves as an aid and a suggestion as I work, which is open to change if the result doesn't look right. A study of a marsh (pictured here) which I painted early in my art journey was a combination of a little measuring and lots of free-styling. Artistic license is alive and well in my studio--alongside some analytic thinking.

Question of the day: Do you think that planning, analyzing, and measuring are compatible with creativity?

     

Favorite Paintings--When to Keep, When to Sell

"Summer Reflections" 18" x 24" in acrylic

     Every painting is a valuable learning experience, but some emerge as personal favorites. (Note that each photo caption is a link to earlier blog posts about that painting if you are interested in more background on any piece.) 

     Since we have down-sized our home in retirement and already have some treasured wall art, we have limited space for new pieces. If none of my babies left home, they would pile up under the bed and beyond, even though I am a slow painter with limited output. So, it has been delightful for me to connect with people who value a particular piece enough to purchase it. I have also enjoyed giving paintings as gifts--something I do carefully and only when I know for certain the recipient likes the work. 

"Castaway Island Cedars" 9" x 12" in acrylic

     However, a few particular paintings would be difficult to part with. They are not necessarily my best work; in fact some represent a creative struggle with a composition that stubbornly refused to come together for a time. Others feel like markers of growth and may have flaws or elements I would do differently now. My wonderful mentor, Linda Blondheim, taught me to value them all--from the earliest, awkward efforts on--because they represent the best I could create at the time.

"Look to the Hills, I" 18" x 24" in acrylic

     In a recent post, I showed you a painting called, "Hanna Park Heron", which found a wonderful home, but which I miss at times. Today's works are (at least for now) definitely not for sale. 

     Other artists (including the real professionals) seem to have varied viewpoints on keeping versus selling artwork. I have heard some say that "everything is for sale" and that it's foolish to hang on to anything, while others treasure certain works in what is often called "the collection of the artist". Of course, I am a simple hobbyist (though a serious one) and am fortunate not to have to make a living through my art (which would be a pitiful living, indeed!). That leaves me freer to choose what and when to sell.

     Why these three? The first is from 2014 and just pleases me no end; I particularly like the clear focal point, feeling of depth, and optimistic mood. The second is from a walk in a favorite preserve and feels serene and very typical of North Florida. The third is an earlier work, inspired by our 2006 revisiting of a lovely retreat center in New York and the memorable time we spent there with precious friends.

Question of the day: What special objects are your "keepers"--whether or not you made them?

     

Coastal North Florida Water View Painting, "Summer Reflections"

"Summer Reflections"

     "Summer Reflections" stands on our fireplace mantel for consideration over the next week or so. Will there be any more minor adjustments to the scene? That remains to be seen.

Today's photos show a newly painted piece of a creek scene near our neighborhood, a couple of detail close-ups, and one of the original reference photos. From the reference photo, you can see that I brightened the colors considerably (while trying not to go overboard with that) and cleared out a lot of North Florida's exuberant, messy-looking growth. As always, you can click on a photo to enlarge it.

A detail from the painting

A detail from the painting

     The painting is on a 2" deep 18" x 24" gallery wrap canvas with the scene continued onto all the sides so that it can be hung with or without a frame. The palette, in acrylic paints, includes ultramarine blue, phthalo blue, dioxazine purple, sap green, naphthol crimson, yellow ochre, Naples yellow, burnt sienna, Payne's grey, and titanium white. 

     For a change, I toned the canvas with a pale burnt sienna tone. Then, after painting the sky in roughly as you see it, I established a fairly dark under painting for the rest. In acrylic paintings, we often work from darks to lights because even light colors (especially when mixed with an opaque white) cover well. Next, the sky was modified and a few clouds added. The far trees were next in muted bluish tones, requiring several milky glazes to get the right hazy appearance of distance. I cut loose on the creek, laying in quick, slightly curved horizontal strokes in a variety of colors and blends. I meant that to be an under painting for the water, but much of it stayed because of the vibrant feel of movement the strokes provided. 

One of several reference photos for this piece

     Most areas of the painting required gradual buildup in layers as lighter and lighter tones were added to the darker under painting. I can't tell you how often during the process my husband asked if the painting would stay so dark, but finally, the gradual, subtle differentiation of tones and colors and layered highlighting led to the version you see today. I exaggerated the differing shades of the foliage; one of the most difficult tasks for a Florida landscape artist can be creating an interesting interpretation of tangled green, green, and more green. This one may be about finished; we'll see what several more days of living with it brings. 

Question of the day: Are you also drawn to scenes with natural water features?