I started my oil painting journey a couple of years ago, driven by a motivation that some might find a bit somber. Our time here is temporary, and I do like the idea of leaving behind some paintings and drawings for my loved ones to remember me by. While many find their legacy in their children, that was a path I decided long ago wasn’t for me.
The Allure of the Old Masters
Initially, I was drawn to the traditional methods used by 15th to 17th-century masters. There is something about the process of slowly building a painting up: Typically, artists would start with a monochromatic underpainting to dial in the values before gradually building life through layers of transparent colours. That structured approach allowed me to produce a few rudimentary still lifes, and I still appreciate how it breaks the complexity of painting into manageable steps.
However, I’ve recently found myself captivated by artists who can capture a scene using the alla prima (wet-on-wet) technique. It seems like a more “honest” way of painting in some ways, but it demands a much firmer grasp of the fundamentals. Herein lies a gap in my skill set that I’m currently trying to address.
The Struggle with the Surface
Admittedly, the move to alla prima has been a struggle, largely because I haven’t found my “home” when it comes to materials. Specifically, finding the “right” surface has been an ongoing battle. I’ve experimented with almost everything:
- Store-bought “Triple-Gessoed” canvases
- Inexpensive cardboard student canvas panels
- Primed MDF
- Ampersand Gesso Bord
- Oil-primed linen panels
My lack of consistency has probably made things harder than they needed to be. I’ve experienced surfaces where the paint sinks in and turns dull (common with acrylic gesso) and others where the surface is so slick the paint just slides around without gripping. These technical frustrations have led me to pause my practice altogether for long stretches. Sometimes going weeks and months without painting.
Thankfully, the dry spell is starting to break. I’m showing up to the easel more often and starting to become more familiar with the feeling of the brush along with the consistency of the paint. Perhaps the secret isn’t in the perfect panel, but in the practice itself. On a positive note, I’m learning to be kinder to myself when a painting goes south. Which, at this stage, is still most of them. Learning anything worthwhile takes more than a few hours a week over a couple of years to become second nature. I’m finally starting to feel at ease with that.