Quent Cordair Fine Art

I apologize for the poor quality of this image. My camera, apparently, thought it was a little darker than I did when I took the picture. Even so, you can see that I have begun work on the dress. Sara actually picked this particular dress out for the model, and it is officially the first addition to a costume closet I have decided to begin compiling. It is a great outfit for drapery painting practice because of its simplicity and flattering cut: revealing just enough of the form. Of course, most clothing reveals at least a little, and figure painters are well aware of the fact. This is one reason nude figure drawing is considered to be an indispensable part of their training. Many classical painters would actually go so far as to complete detailed sketches of their entire composition with the figures un-clothed as a preparatory step to painting the final clothed version. I suspect this to be one of the reasons that a lot of drapery in classical paintings appears to be so thin and clingy. Few present-day painters can afford the time, let alone the modeling fees to be so thorough, (I certainly can’t) but it is still important to be aware that the body is what gives the dress its shape, and that a misplaced fold can result in an unnatural looking finished figure.

As it happens, I have the luxury of being ahead of the commentary with the actual progress of the painting. The images I had originally intended for the next step actually illustrate my point quite well, so I will include them here. (Thankfully they are of better quality than the first one.)

It is easy to see where the figure’s legs are and how they cross, even though they are covered. Also, the way the dress is draped over the wall helps to place the woman as comfortably seated there, and not standing somewhat uncomfortably next to it.

Of course, painting the right leg is not altogether different from painting the left, with the exception of the sole of the foot and a considerable amount of foreshortening in the leg itself. Both of these things result in shapes that, until finished, appear to be completely wrong. By the time I am 65, and have been painting figures for half a century, perhaps I will be able to whip this stuff out effortlessly. Until then, the process involves a lot of careful reference to the photos of the model, and reworking the paint until a point is reached where my brain interprets the image as a woman’s leg instead of an oddly shaped, pinkish-grey lump. It still surprises me at times how subtle a change in shape or tone will make the difference.

There is a point at which not much more can be said about a simple painting like this one without the risk of putting most readers to sleep. With that in mind, if there is any aspect of the process that could be better elaborated on; I hope you won’t be shy about writing in to ask. And in an effort to keep things interesting, please feel free to write in with any art related comments or questions, even if they have little to do with this particular piece.

I am continuing to paint the flesh with work on the figure’s left leg. The series of images on the left shows the basic technique I am using. I begin by blocking in large areas of color in the mid-tones. Next I blend the colors together, working in some deeper shadows and brighter highlight colors to define the basic shape. I continue working in darker shadows and brighter highlights until the desired level of contrast is reached. During this process I am also refining the shapes of the muscles and tendons in the leg. As with the arm, the dark outline around the leg allows me to soften the edges by blending into it slightly, and also allows a little fine-tuning of the overall form.

I blocked in the shape of the hair to allow the base coat to dry while I finish work on the legs.

In a painting with a more complex background, I would begin there, and save the figure until the end. This composition, however, is all about the figure, and the background elements are simple and, to some extent, incidental. In addition, the figure is almost always the most fun to work on. In any case, I am going to paint it first. The only drawback to this approach is that when it is time to paint the background, I will have to take extra care not to paint over any of the finished work. To keep a soft edge to the arm, I am painting a dark border around it, which I can blend into and then paint over later. I am using a fairly simple palette of titanium white, ivory black, burnt umber, cad red and a very small amount of yellow ochre. Because of the relatively large size of the figure, over-blending the skin-tones can give a plastic look to the flesh. To avoid that, I am passing on the fan brush and doing most of the blending with a round brush.

Welcome back to the Artist’s Studio. While the gallery has been expanding, Sara, Asher and I have been moving into a new home as well. For anyone familiar with the Salt Lake City area, we are in Draper which is at the south end of the valley, and have a nice view of most of the city and of Kennecott Copper. The main entryway of the house is now my new studio, and what better way to break in a new studio than with a little figure painting? This will be a relatively simple composition: a woman sitting on a concrete balcony, looking down into the city below. The straight lines and rough textures of the steel and glass building in the background and the concrete in the foreground will be a nice contrast to the female figure, and whether you identify with the woman in the painting or with the viewer of the entire scene, the theme is the same: beauty.

I am working from only one piece of photographic reference material, which includes the figure, the concrete ledge, and background elements, which can be easily tweaked to portray the side of a glass and steel building. There will be no need for a study or a scale sketch, and I will be taking a more relaxed approach to the order and level of completion of the various elements in the picture.

I began with a 20 X 32 inch linen canvas sized with acrylic and primed with white lead in oil tinted with a touch of burnt umber. To add a bit of warmth to the canvas I then added a thin wash of burnt umber and ivory black in a mixture of linseed oil and turpentine. As soon as the canvas was dry, I sketched the figure and the basic geometry of the background with white chalk. Correct proportions can be tricky to keep track of while standing next to a canvas this size, so I measured in a few reference points: the tip of each foot, the top of the shoulder, the top of the head and the right knee. I sketched as lightly as possible until I was happy with everything, and then darkened the main lines, wiping away any that were distracting.