R. Davies Art

This young woman was a natural and a delight to paint. While I like to believe that I draw out the best of anyone, she made my time in the studio a pure joy. The young man is the little brother to the girl above, While not quite as conscious of his role in the process, he is blessed with an amazing innocence that translates well in paint. This is a portrait of my son. He is a great kid who can write, program, and draw like nobody's business. And, my daughter. She works very hard to make her way in this complicated world, and you can see the determination in her eyes. This was another fun commission. She has a stunning inner beauty that outshines even her extraordinary physical beauty. Oftentimes it is the precise manipulation of micro-expressions that tell the story. As I've stated before, capturing a likeness is not terribly hard. Capturing a soul...that is another thing.

Every now and then I sell paintings which I kind of wish would somehow magically return. They are haunting to me. The one to the right captures a specific feel of invitation, anxiety, beauty and dread. It fascinates me. The one to the left with the hydrant holds some sort of spell on me. Between the clouds portending either rejuvenating spring rains or the possibility of lashing storms and the pattern of tiny white flowers that lead the eye back and forth, in and out, I find I can stare at it for hours. All I have now is the picture. The real thing is far better. I can see the brush strokes in raking light, not to mention that the painting's color will never be as true in a photo. Sometimes it is not enough to be the painter. I want to have it in my house where I can visit at any time.

There is something about still life that is fascinating--if done right. It should have all the standard pictorial elements: composition, interesting color usage, brush technique, etc. But, what interests me most about a still life is the almost intangible story/mystery of that combination of elements. If done well, it seems that a faint quantum trace of the humanity it represents remains. We want to know more. Our eyes search the surface for meaning and find small almost abstract moments of paint scumbled or washed or scraped where a small composition within the larger presents its own mystery. It is like a novel that bears rereading and yields anew with each visit. To the left is an example of a painting that invites us to dawdle, to get lost in reflections, to wonder about relationships between objects. It is also a painting that lets me get lost in meditation as I paint. There is a certain point I reach where I am no longer painting the label--bell, brush, book, bottle-- bu...

When people think of the how of painting, the direct method of painting is what many people assume most painters use, and this is largely the case for most abstract and much of realist painting. The indirect method is currently making a comeback, and I may discuss it in another post. For now, the direct method, which seems simple, but if done well, is surprisingly complicated. To start, you may or may not have an underdrawing, tone, or underpainting, but you will have a series of brush strokes that are as precise as possible. The paint will be mixed to the exact hue and value--shade, tint, tone--lifted from the palette with the exact size and shape brush needed for the expected mark and deliberately applied by dragging the color on the tip of the brush, not the bristles across the desired area. The artist may twist the brush, press to fan it out, or manipulate it in some other way to get the exact brush shape desired to make the exact mark. If the mark is incorrect or inarticulate, i...

There is something about wet streets that fascinates me. This painting was part of a show last year in which I had several rainy day paintings. All of them sold, including this one. I guess that tells you what people like. The one thing that rainy day painting taught me is to be observant as a neutral observer. Rain slicked streets and objects are patchworks of color. Sure there is a logic to the reflections, but you can only paint it accurately if you can stop the part of your mind that says, "this is a car," and you then put in your symbol for a car. Think of what you see as a collection of marks on a canvas that is your eye. It is not a car, it is a slab of grey over a bit of very dark blue with a hint of red in a grey box. Just put down the right color in the right place, and you will go a long way towards a serviceable image. Sounds easy, right? Well, do as I've done and practice for 35 years and you can get pretty good at it. Or, you may be a natural. Let'...

Today, I use my painting of Crystal to talk about the emotional content of a portrait. Anyone with a modicum of effort can get a reasonable likeness. I firmly believe that. But it is the composing and editing of the vast amount of information that makes a painting feel like it has captured a subject's inner life. This can only be done by careful observation--that is standing back and seeing what the painting says at any one moment. Does your most recent mark head you towards a coherent understanding of this person's inner life or does it head away? This takes practice and it cannot be taught. Some people are simply insensitive to composition and to subtle changes in emotional feel when painting. I know, that sounds mean, but it is simply a fact. Now, I don't mean that a viewer who cannot paint the emotion before them cannot see the emotion when presented by someone who can. Of course they can. That is what makes us human. In this image, I see a very concerned woman wh...

This is a work that started as a pencil sketch. I stood on the curb and sketched this simple view and then snapped many photos, bracketing the exposure to replicate (as closely as possible) the look of the shadows and highlights. It is entirely possible to capture the look of a scene very accurately with a simple camera on a phone as long as you can control exposure in specific areas. On my iPhone, I can essentially change the exposure infinitely (I say that that advisedly as my physics friends would really spank me on that assertion). I change the exposure for, say, the street. I take the photo then immediately check it against what I see in front of me. If it is off, I delete it, adjust the exposure, and take another. I repeat this process for each area. I took a photo with the exposure of the pale yellow area of the building in mind. I took one of the lower part of the sky and one of the middle and one of the upper. I took one of the brightly lighted orange area of the building, a...