Learning from a Master- John Singer Sargent

For the past few weeks I've been working hard to finish a painting commission. There are two figures in my painting, A woman and her daughter. The woman wears a trench coat. I was having a devil of a time with the coat drapery and spending a lot of time fussing with it- not satisfied no matter how much effort I put into it- this is never a good thing to do with a painting. My client, who has been so dear and patient, is wondering what's taking me so long to finish (it's been six months).

Some of my favorite master artists learned their craft by studying and making copies in art museums of even older masters. So I decided to go to the Art Institute of Chicago yesterday expressly to look at the brushwork of John Singer Sargent. The Sargent painting on the right, "The Fountain" from 1907, made me smile because it solved my problem.

The paint used to render the woman's smock is fairly thick- which is impossible to tell if you are looking at a photograph of the work like the one on the right (which is why it's always worth the time and money to make the pilgrimage to the museum). The folds of the smock near the pedestal on which she sets look like a mixture of sap green, raw sienna, and white. He puts the stroke on boldly and leaves it there- not trying to blend it perfectly like I've been doing. The white strokes are blended with some green and raw sienna and are put on right the first time (or if they weren't, Sargent scraped the paint off and redid it). I remember Sargent often told his students never to be afraid to put a good amount of paint on the canvas. The sight of his brushwork makes me want to be bold and confident. I can't wait to try this out.

Those of you who aren't painters should know that John Singer Sargent, a 19th-century American portrait painter, is universally admired for his energetic and bold, yet accurate brushwork. Other artists are humbled by his ability and declare themselves not fit to clean his brushes- even as we all keep trying to be as good as he was.

By the way, yesterday there were three artists making making painted copies of French Post-Impressionist paintings at the Chicago Art Institute yesterday. I don't know how the artists maintain their concentration and nerve with all the museum visitors passing and gawking (some from a respectful distance) at their work. So the tradition of making copies of the masters lives on.