I love color. Lots of color. The fact is, it is extremely difficult for me to buy things that, to me, do not have color. That means beige, white, and black. A Japanese kimono full of vibrant colors is far more interesting than the serenity of monochrome; Hawaiian shirts hold endless attraction. Prints intrigue me far more than a brilliant, single color.
Because color is so attractive, the absence of color in a painting – such as in sumi-e – and in photography – become endlessly fascinating in the variations of black-grey-white. Color reduction, meaning decolorization, can be done in various photo editing software programs. This pushes the photograph to near monochrome, but with an essence of color. The same may be done in an ink painting. Both become intriguing as the color draws the eye, but because of the lack of color elsewhere, it also becomes a messenger, speaking to the viewer on a symbolic level. Or, it can simply become an attractive element essential to a composition.
In sumi-e, there is a challenge in gradation and contrast. This is managed by both how the brush is loaded as well as forethought and knowledge as to how dark something will dry – or, more challenging – how light. Understanding the paper being used, the qualities of the ink stick, the subtleties of the brush become an art in themselves, all of which lead to the success or failure of the final painting.
In photography I am finding much the same challenge. In playing with software, such as Corel Paintshop Photo Pro X3 and Photoscape, I can take a colored photograph and either decolor it, separate it into multiple pre-press layers, or simply change it to a grey-scale image. Red flowers which look awful in color can become quite fascinating when rendered into black and white.
Composition also plays into photography, as much as it does in painting. Because one is physically doing a painting, I think that the elements of composition have time to unfold, and the unconscious works toward the final result long before the concept is visible to the artist. It is a slower process altogether.
The very nature of photography lends itself – especially with digital – to taking picture after picture after picture. Only now am I considering more carefully my compositions. Knowing I can crop and edit in software, as well as the fact I don’t have to pay for printing, lets me shoot all over, all and everything. This lets me play. Play is creative, fun, and educational. Happenstance leads to analysis in looking at photographs, which leads to thought about all the elements which come together, as they do in painting, to create the final image: light, subject, color, direction, contrast. As a result, I am developing the skills which permit me to think ahead a bit; these are the same skills, conscious or not, which I apply to a painting.
I am finding that my preferences in photography echo those I have for paintings. Simplicity and contrast. Less is more. Whether or not I succeed is up for question.
Ink, Yarn & Beer 