Thursday, September 1, 2011

Swingin' For The Fences








Ted Williams, arguably Baseball's greatest hitter-- even if he did say so himself-- said that the key to being a good hitter was, "get a good pitch to hit".   Sage advice, but easier said than done.  Many has been a big-league hitter who looked like an idiot swinging at pitches in the dirt.  They thought they had a good pitch to hit, only to be badly fooled.  Then there's Joltin' Joe DiMaggio, who once said that the difference between a warning track fly ball and a home run was the difference of just one quarter-inch of where the ball hit the bat.


What's my point?  Well, isn't painting like that?  You know, getting a good subject to paint is like getting a good pitch to hit.  Maybe it's a babbling brook flowing through a lovely meadow, or a vase of peonies, or perhaps a lovely model reclining on a Victorian couch that screams "Paint Me!" the way a hanging slider screams "Hit Me!" to a baseball player.  But then comes the rub: is it going to be a pop-up, or a home-run?


Take that stream, for instance.  Would it be a better composition from this side, or that side?  And that flowering apple tree in the meadow; how do I incorporate that?  What about those lovely flowers in that stoneware vase--  might it be more interesting with a cut-glass crystal vase?  Oh, and let's not forget that lovely model;  should I show one breast or two?  It's those little details that make or break a painting.  The great painters seem to make the right decisions and hit it out of the park, while the rest of us hit grounders up the middle.  Sure, it might be a hit, but it's not a Home-Run.


I don't want to forget about those insidious subjects that look like they would make a great painting, a masterpiece that will hang in the Louvre someday, only to really be a fifty-nine foot curve-ball that you swing at and miss for strike three.  How do you keep from chasing bad pitches?  Practice, practice, practice, so the next time you see a "Hit Me!" painting, you can take it deep.  After all, to para-phrase the one-and-only Yogi Berra, painting is ninety-percent physical--

the other half is mental. 


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3 comments:

Virginia Floyd said...

Gorgeous light on these boats, Kevin. The water looks so still and serene, and the reflections are beautiful. Well done!

SamArtDog said...

Sometimes, you can judge a painting by its sound. I can hear this one just fine.

Susan Roux said...

Wow Kevin, you just might have hit a home run here! Look at all that light, not to mention those colors... Dare I even mention the word "emotion"..?

Hummm, might have done you some good to watch me paint on the Cape. Great job!