Hey, Tim Jones, here.
It has been several weeks since my last post in this series on art, but my schedule was cruelly interrupted by some paying work. Things have slowed just a bit, so I want to encourage all of you to VISIT MY WEBSITE.
Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, y’know.
In my FIRST POST, I offered a framework for thinking about the different aspects of man-made objects (design, decoration, illustration and fine art).
In the SECOND POST, I broadly defined some categories of visual art (realism, abstraction, non-objective and non-representational art).
Now I want to talk about the implications of these categories for artists, offer some views on the opportunities that visual art presents, as well discuss the problems and strengths of different kinds of art. This time we’re talking about realism.
THE GREAT THING ABOUT REALISM
– I love impressions. One of my favorite TV shows (briefly) as a kid was called Copycats and starred impressionists like Rich Little and Frank Gorshin. Not long ago, I caught part of a TV bio of Dean Martin, and saw some old footage of Frank Gorshin doing an impression of Martin. It was a really good impression. Not just kinda good, but dead-on, scary good, which made it hilarious. Gorshin (who played the Joker The Riddler on the original Batman TV series) could do that. Dean Martin was entertaining to watch, but Gorshin’s impression showed everyone what it was that made him entertaining to watch. Gorshin studied, analyzed and practiced Dean Martin until he was almost more Martinesque than was Dino himself.
This is the kind of power that realism can have, whether we are watching an impression, or looking at a work of art. Great realism can grab people and stop them in their tracks. At an art exhibit, you might hear people saying things like, "Wow. How do they do that? I can’t even draw a stick man.". This is perfectly natural, and nothing to be ashamed of. People admire great skill, whether they see it in art, hear it in music, watch it demonstrated in dance or in any other human endeavor.
Neither artists or art lovers need to apologize for appreciating, or striving for, a high degree of realism. It not only can have great visual power, but is one of the few ways of actually measuring artistic skill (gasp!!). Oddly, this makes it seem both controversial and dangerous to some. Though most people readily acknowledge that not everyone can be a great musician (just watch American Idol), or dancer, or athlete, there are those who behave as if everyone is born an artist, and the one thing we must never talk about is whether they deserve the designation.
I earlier offered a very broad definition of abstraction, saying that every piece of art, even the most "realistic", is to some extent an abstraction. I will add to that a very broad definition of realism as any faithful representation of the physical world. This doesn’t necessarily mean expressionless copying, or one-to-one reproduction of every detail, but simply art that is inspired by and faithful to the physical aspects of reality. This broad understanding of realism can include a wide range of styles, from hyper-realism up to and including impressionism.
Realism can be quite expressive. Simply in the selection of the subject, the composition, the lighting, or the surroundings, a straightforward realistic depiction can express quite a bit of subtext. In other words, a lot of the artist’s self expression can be present before the brush ever touches the canvas. A good deal of it can happen at a subconscious level. This is one reason that I tell my art students please not to worry too much about self expression, as it will happen on it’s own as they mature and develop their skills.
The work of Ralph Goings (left) is a good example of highly realistic art that functions effectively as an authentic artistic expression. In his obsessively observed and subtle renderings, we can get a sense of why he paints the things he does. He finds great beauty and interest in the most mundane objects and settings. He apparently loves to hang out in diners, and that means he can’t be all bad. His stuff is just fun to look at, and you get a sense that in his work he celebrates his fascination with everyday life.
In terms of learning, realism is by far the best way to start developing the physical and perceptive skills that a good artist needs. For this reason, there was for a long time a strong emphasis on realism in academic art training. Not that realism ought to be an end in itself, but it is a natural starting place for visual art. Every discipline has rules, and you need to know the rules before you can meaningfully break the rules.
The work of Nicolai Fechin (left) is a good example of art that is faithful to reality, but also ventures into meaningful abstraction, and even a kind of expressionism. A typical Fechin painting includes interesting abstract passages, highly energetic brushwork, bold use of color and an obvious love just for the paint, itself. But holding all that together and transcending it, is Fechin’s clear understanding of light, space and physical form. A study of his work reveals a deep knowledge of anatomy and the subtleties of the human face. Frequently in his work, the realism of the face serves as an anchor for the rest of the piece.
THE PROBLEM WITH REALISM
– Realism is this property of faithful representation, but if that is all that realism is (in other words, if it is only the work of a highly trained copyist) then it will fall short of what art should be. If the artist is not capable of infusing into the image some sense of how they think or feel about the subject, then it does indeed fall flat. If this is the case, then all painters could be replaced by photographers, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out..
A painting can be a very realistic representation and still be trite, silly, dull, or in any number of other ways, just bad art. There is such a thing as an accurate, but lifeless, representation.
A great deal of 19th century academic realism was bad art. It sometimes seemed to be a cold, academic exercise. At the opposite end of the spectrum, it was just as often the victim of maudlin sentimentalism. The same problems plague artists to this day, and are hardly unique to realistic art. Modern art suffers much from the same diseases. There is such a thing as calculated spontaneity, and manufactured angst.
Great realistic art doesn’t just give us a dry representation of the subject, but also highlights and enhances what is unique about the subject, as well as offering some insight into the artist’s feelings about it. The caricature of Orson Welles (at left), by the famous Al Hirschfeld, is a great example. Hirschfeld had a wonderful knack for reduction, simplification and enhancement. If Welles’ head were really shaped like that, of course, he would be in a long-term care facility. No one’s head is really shaped like that… and yet, somehow the drawing looks just like Orson Welles. Hirschfeld departs from strictly literal realism in order to emphasize the most Welles-ian aspects of Mr. Welles. He distorts, but (and this is important) it is a lovingly faithful distortion that draws its inspiration from Welles himself. Hirschfeld studied Welles… in a way, loved Welles. It seems a simple drawing, but I guarantee that it was not simple for Hirschfeld
In addition to what the image says about Mr. Welles, though, we have the delightful calligraphy of the drawing itself, the crisply rendered shapes, the flowing lines… overall, an elegant simplicity combined with an exuberant energy and humor that begins to tell us a great deal about the artist. This is art (simple as it is) that is firing on all cylinders. It is the result of preternatural giftedness (talent), combined with careful study, hard work and enthusiasm.
This highlights the important distinction between a work of art as a representation of something else (subject), and a work of art as an interesting and beautiful object on its own. Great art is both.
Next: "Modern" Art, and Why Art is Important.
Tim,
Do you have a web site of your own art? I’ve seen some of your still life, and was wondering if you’ve ever done any religious art.
Actually, I think Frank Gorshin was the Riddler on the old Batman show.
He was also the famous black/white faced guys on that episode of the original Star Trek.
Josh
Correct, Josh. Cesar Romero was The Joker. Shame on you, Tim (No, wait; that was Cliff Robertson).
So Tim,
Did you find the hidden “Nina” in the cariacature of Orson Welles?
You know, every Herschfeld drawing has a number of “Nina”s written into them (his daughter’s name) – and that number is usually written in a corner of the drawing, next to his signature.
I’m still looking to see if he may have slipped any “Nina”s into the “Rhapsody in Blue” segment of “Fantasia 2000”, but I doubt there are any.
D’oh!
I mis-spoke (wrote). Of COURSE I know that Gorshin played the Riddler.
I was just testing you all. Yeah… that’s the ticket. I even did a post about Gorshin’s passing, a while back, so I should have caught it.
I also can’t explain why two large chunks of this post are in BOLD type. I did not mean for them to be, but for some reason TypePad would not let me go back and edit my post in the normal way. It would only let me access the HTML, which is useless to me.
I don’t know…I know people knock realist painting, saying why not just take pictures, but for me, knowing how difficult it is to create such realistic paintings, they always take my breath away — just imagine the painstaking attention to detail and unbelievable skill with the medium.
And realistic watercolor paintings are the best.
Much of the great art we see from the ancient and medieval eras, not just in Europe, but around the world, both shies away from realism while still depicting real objects. Look at the ancient figures of Egyptian pharaohs and the drawings of samurai from Japan’s middle ages. It’s all highly stylised work, and even though it is not strictly realistic, these styles are still capable of representing reality, and can often times contain more subtlety, nuance, and symbolism (and a lot of other fancy words) than more “realistic” works.
By the way, Mr. Jones, I take issue with one aspect of your post, and it is this: Frank Gorshin did not do impressions. He did impersonations. He was not an impressionist. That’s a kind of painter. He was an impersonator, one who does impersonations. Sorry to raise this issue, but I really hate it when people mix up impression and impersonation 🙂
Excellent post, Tim! Thanks for this series.
It’s too small for me to have seen any Nina’s Jamie. Eventually, word got out about them & Hirschfeld started putting a number by his signature that indicated the number of Nins’a that could be found in the piece. There have to be some in Orson’s beard, scarf, & the hair just above his ear but I can’t tell. (SIGH)
And, Randolph, the terms are used practically interchangably when it comes to what Mr Gorshin did. Merriam-Webster.com defines impression as follows in entry #7: “an imitation or representation of salient features in an artistic or theatrical medium; especially : an imitation in caricature of a noted personality as a form of theatrical entertainment” & impersonate this way: “to assume or act the character of.”
The definition given for impression suitable describes both Al Hirschfeld’s & Frank Gorshin’s work, as well as that of the impressionistic movement of painting, sculpture, etc. Tim’s point is quite well supported by this definition, as well.
Tim, I absolutely love your art and enjoyed your site very much. I would love to commission you to capture my beautiful children timelessly with your talent, if ever I could afford to do so (which admittedly is unlikely!). God has gifted you so greatly, and in allowing us to view your work, you gift us too.
God Bless.
Hey, ukok, try me!
Easy monthly payments!… 😉
Thanks for your kind words. I’ll be doing a post soon about my latest portrait commission (which was especially gratifying) and my plans to “go liturgical” and do some big religious art projects I have had in mind for some time.
Tim,
my car exhaust and back box (rear silencer?) is hanging off and I can’t afford to get it fixed so it may be a while before I can afford to comission you 🙁
I’m looking forward to reading your plans to extend to religious art…can’t wait to see some of your pieces. Art, I’m no good at it, but I certainly appreciate it…thanks be to God for the gift of sight!
God Bless.
ukok-
I was just funnin’. I really don’t have a payment plan!
But I would invent one if the need arose. 🙂
I know what you mean about cars. I have one now that requires me to enter and exit through the passenger door, and another that has a loppy speedometer. It will just drop out suddenly, leaving you to guess your speed.
It’s fun to see how closely you figured it when the gauge comes back on.
Are our cars related, I wonder?
The passenger door of mine won’t open (and I’m having trouble with the boot not opening at the moment too – and my fog lights just died on me) so when I do the school run and pick up my friends kids each morning, my son has to climb across the driver seat and over the handbreak (without hitting the rear view mirror -I yell at him “Watch the mirror!!!” – it once got knocked off and the garage charged me to stick it back on with an adhesive pad!)…so that we can fit the three girls in the back!
I’ve never yet had a car that cost less to service or MOT than £500. I think it’s because I’m a woman, they can see me coming…well they couldn’t really miss me, but you get what I mean, I’m sure.
the good thing about it is that it’s a nice Catholic coloured car…when a friend told me I was driving a Catholic coloured car I hadn’t a clue what he meant until he explained (he being an anti Catholic Scot had who was well educated in the Celtic/Rangers battles)
My car has a name, does yours?
I called her (yes her) Terminator…I used to have a red fiat called ‘bambi’ and it near enough fell apart. I figured when I got this car last year that an invincible sounding name might just make all the difference…it didn’t work 🙁
God Bless!