Outside the Comfort Zone
Self-portrait in paint
After my fabulous experiences studying black-and-white photography with Neeley Drown at Cabrillo College last fall, for the winter term, I tried color theory under the instruction of Kimberly Cook at Foothill College. The medium for this class was not photography, but painting and collage.
At first, I was excited, ordering my paints, brushes, cutting mat, Xacto knife, T-square, etc. I carefully rearranged my drawers of art supplies to make room for the new treasures. I loved the idea of having my own sketchbook.
As the class progressed, however, I found what a challenge it is for an artist to work outside of her customary medium. Painting, and especially collage, are incredibly time-consuming. A child can take blue and yellow paint and mix them together to make green. But making the right green? A little more blue? A lot more yellow? Some white? A teeney, weeney, tiny bit of black? It is hard for a photographer not to get frustrated, considering how much faster and more precise it would be simply to type a few numbers in Photoshop. Apparently, classes such as these use paint because the barrier to entry is low. But if you know how to do the exercises in Photoshop, you might just want to gnaw your knuckles off trying to execute them using the messy contents of little tubes.
It emerged that my knowledge of color theory was fairly strong before the class. I already knew about the visible part of the electromagnetic spectrum, the differences between RBY, RBG, and CMYK ways of describing color, and the meanings of hue, saturation, and luminance and the ways in which they are not entirely independent of each other. I possessed a fair understanding of the psychological impacts of different colors, perhaps because I am sensitive to them. If you'd asked me before the class to design a monochromatic or complementary color scheme, I could have created it, but I learned a little bit about triadic and analogous color schemes.
What I did develop in the class was a new appreciation for painting, and for the work my camera does. I learned how painters vary the luminances of their colors in order to show the direction of light in a painting and to create the illusion of depth in their work.
Most of the exercises in the class involved the following procedure:
convert a photograph to black and white;
posterize the photo in Photoshop to compress the various luminances into a handful;
print the photo;
trace lines surrounding the various luminances onto a piece of paper;
number the places on the piece of paper where particular luminances were expressed in the photo; and, finally,
paint in the numbered tracing with paints in particular color schemes to match the luminances that came from the photo with carefully appropriately mixed paint.
Half-finished painting
This technique produces fantastic results relatively easily. It also plainly demonstrates just how much of the work of producing the painting is done for you by the camera. The camera takes three dimensions and compresses them to two. It records exactly where, in a two-dimensional frame, different amounts of light are reflected into the sensor (and of course it can also record the saturation and hue of the light). I had not thought about it quite so plainly before, but this, essentially, is what cameras do.
From an artistic perspective, it is useful to understand how dimensions are compressed, to be able to flatten a scene in your mind. As I traced photographs, I developed a new understanding of the relationships between dimensions. I began to comprehend how a two-dimensional projection onto our retinas gets interpreted into three dimensions in our minds. I learned how our brains interpret the ways that light falls to see the depth in space before us, and how painters use that in their art.
As a result of working outside my customary medium, I learned how my camera helps me create my art. I now know just how useful the tool is, how much effort it saves me. I have more of an ability to see the world in two dimensions, to perceive how a scene around me will appear in the camera's frame. This understanding will help me use my equipment more effectively. These lessons were more valuable than what I did learn about color.
Posterized self-portrait
I earned an A in the class, but it was a tremendous effort for me to do so. I am now taking a class on how to use new media and photography for social change. Most of the assignments involve writing, which was my original medium before photography and dance. It was a useful experiment to work outside my comfort zone, but I am relieved to be back to playing in easy mode.
Beth Zuckerman, self-portrait
I am a high-energy creature of passion, a photographer and an aerial dancer. I share with you my journey as an artist.