Fy hoff lliw ydy porffor. Well, it is for today at least.

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Untitled (Porffor)

2016

This new painting is all about that delicious gap; the white paper. Tension. Mmm.

Untitled. Ideally.

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Untitled (…or Buddleia?)

2016

(I have an issue with naming my work that I have not yet figured out….. I do not want labels and superfluous words getting in the way of the image. I need to come up with a plan.)

 

 

Grey Lavender Dusk

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Grey Lavender Dusk (2016)

Acrylic paint

© Emma Tann

 

Giving my paintings titles does not come easily. There is no “concept”, no meaning. They are simply beautiful colours, shapes – does a label get in the way of the painting? Will a name remind a viewer of something else, will preconceptions and associations get in the way of seeing the painting as it really is, for it’s own sake?

Rothko’s paintings always seem to have unobtrusive, subtle names. There are an awful lot of untitled and numbered works, and those that simply reference the colours on the canvas.

No over-thought, contrived names here. I would rather spend my time painting. The image matters, not the name.

Thoughts?

 

One For Sorrow – Magpie Painting

Magpies

One For Sorrow, Two For Joy

Ink and watercolour, 2016

A fathers day painting for my daddy. I do like a good magpie (or two) – such intelligent birds, they always look like they’re plotting, pondering what to do next…

The intention was to paint a beautiful, detailed perfect magpie card – this A3 page started off as a mess of practice sketches! As is so often the way, when I came to working on the “real” picture, I just couldn’t get him to look right… all sorts of peculiar-looking pigeons and penguins were appearing on the paper. So back I went and added some gorgeous colour and splodgy ink to this page – really chuffed with this picture, and I think my father likes it too. It is now up in my parents kitchen; high praise indeed.

 

 

Uncomfortable Orange Paintings

Cadmium VI and Cadmium VII, 2015

Acrylic, A5

I tried something different, took a step outside of my comfort zone. It must have been a sunny day. These paintings are the wrong tone, the wrong colour. They do not suit me. Back I went to blues and reds…


A Dark Painting

Cadmium XI

Cadmium XI, 2016

Acrylic, A3

Mist. Oppressive haze. Something a little bit sinister.

With an arbitrary title. I need a new system.

 

When to stop painting…

DSCF9492Two studies – acrylic paint, 2016

I started this pair of paintings side by side, with the intention of mirroring, a sort of butterfly effect. I ended up spending much more time on the left-hand painting… to its detriment.

I much prefer the more minimalist left hand painting, which took only a few minutes, simple brush strokes, beautiful colours – the paint moved across the paper, bled, arranged itself serendipitously and left a lovely splodge.

How can a couple of minutes work look so much better than half an hour of laboured painting?! And will everyone else see the same as me?

That has always been The Big Question – when to stop painting? When have you over-worked an ruined a once delicate, understated, confident piece of work? How on earth do you know when to stop? I guess it all comes down to intuition. And experience. Practice (and plenty of frustrating mistakes, screwed up sketchbook pages. There’s no going back.)

Stop before you think you need to stop.