Over the years, I have encountered painted compositions that just made me giggle and occasionally laugh out loud due to the poor quality. The captions could read: “Good enough for who its for,” “Just get it out the door,” or “Done is good.” There are obvious compositions that were painted in a rush without much consideration to the quality. Maybe the drop was for an irksome client, one who never paid his bills. Every collection tells a story through the application of paint and individual brush strokes. During long hours, I find myself creating background stories for every painted composition. This humors me and helps me get through each evaluation or restoration project.
The subject that has brought me the most humor over the years is figure painting and anatomical anomalies. These are never intentional and often a direct result of inexperience or lack of training at any art academy by the artist. The most common occurrence of oddly shaped figures appears on the small drops painted for the 17th degree Vision scene (Scottish Rite). The Winona collection that always comes to mind with a woman holding the scales of justice. Her breasts are too high, her hand is too big, and her hair defies gravity. Moline has the equivalent to this poorly drawn figure. There, three figures are painted as décor on a city wall.
I believe that the composition was incorrectly drawn; the practical opening in the center had been created too small. When is was time to cut that practical opening someone notice that it would be too short for anyone to enter or exit. Unfortunately the figure above the opening had already been painted. The solution was to cut off the feet and repaint them at kneecap level.
You can still see the redrawing on the stage right figure too. This drawing was also altered – but before final painting.
Now I might make fun of the poorly drawn figures on historic backdrops, but I do so with a deep and personal understanding of the necessary skill required to successfully paint people. I can draw figures, sometimes even well. Other times I question my artistic ability. Usually, I chalk this up to “artistic angst” and part of the entire painting process: questioning one’s own ability and talent. I always plod along after recognizing this as a step that I always encounter in every design or painting. It is the opposite of the “Ah Ha” moment, but valuable nonetheless.
To be continued…