A different commission...
I call it Susie's Metolius as Susie is the client. She has seen the final version, now all I need to do is let it dry, spray a coat of retouch varnish and frame it. Happy Birthday Susie!
Unlike most of my blogs which are about specific pieces of art or shows this comes under the heading "Lessons Learned."
The title is from SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES by the Platters, and more recently played in the outstanding film "Forty-Five Years."
This is a tale of a commission that was not meant to be. I have done (and will continue to do) commissions. They range from joyful experiences to woeful ones. Some good friends started out as clients.
Over the years I have sent some parameters. I will not paint from someone else's photo...that meaningful faded Polaroid will likely not mean much to me and will be impossible to capture the heartfelt emotions of the person who has the photo.
I will only rarely do sites picked by a client, and not unless I can get there and photo and sketch it myself, thus again avoiding not understanding the environment and the play of light.
I have added a new one: "I will not replicate a painting I painted years ago and add a mountain that doesn't exist." Really this is not about adding the mountain...but rather about going back 5-6 years and replicating things that I would not do now. We all learn and grow and our interpretations of the same scene change in the way we would depict them.
I had just attempted this for a very nice couple. They were energetic...enthused and "loved" my work. However, there were warning signs..they sent me lots of pictures of their lovely Mid-Century Modern home (an architectural style I like)...and notes about colors of chairs, etc. WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! There is a huge difference between original art and decorative works that one can see the Property Brothers whip out on House and Garden TV.
I like to keep my clients informed so I sent a preliminary sketch...and it was agreed upon. There is a 50% non refundable fee...agreed upon and I was on my way. I sent some updates...photos of the toned canvas, the sketch on the canvas, etc. (I feel part of my job as an artist is to inform people about how paintings are done.) When I got to the 90% painting complete mark I sent a photo...OH OH....
Several emails later...one wishing I would make the sage more "vibrant" (I attempted this...) then an agreement to talk, then an email with the old painting attached and how it was not the same as the new one. (OK, but we agreed to go to from a square format to an oblong and add a mountain in the background that would never have been there...yes it was different.....and the colors were slightly different as I no longer fling "color notes" randomly at the canvas), we had our phone call.
Somewhere between "could you change the road" (to go a very different direction) and "the trees are not in the same place" I felt ill. I promised to call the next day and see what I could do.
Up to my studio....I looked at the well composed painting, with the somewhat reasonable new mountain and decided that the best thing to do was to scrape it all off...and get down to canvas. Luckily most of it was still wet enough to only leave a pentimento*.
Then I realized that I simply did not have the stomach to start all over again...I knew that my energy around this painting would be all wrong and also that their wishes probably could not be met. So I sent a polite (I hope) email severing the contract and a promise to mail back their refund (I could salvage the canvas and to Hell with the many hours, and the paint...ugh). This morning I mailed the check.
Then I went up to the studio and saw the sad remnants of the painting and decided that a nice covering in Cadmium Orange Pure and Quinacradone Rose would make it and the memory vanish (in time). I started a new painting...something I WANTED TO PAINT and slowly have regained my composure.
Several years ago I would have not done this. I would be diligently painting away trying to second guess their internal vision and wants. Not now. Life is too short to paint anything you don't feel.
* A pentimento (plural pentimenti) is an alteration in a painting, evidenced by traces of previous work, showing that the artist has changed his or her mind as to the composition during the process of painting. The word is Italian for repentance, from the verb pentirsi, meaning to repent. (How appropriate...I would have repented a lot had I continued with this commission!)