Let's talk about the most detailed, complex piece I've ever done. It's not the piece with like eight figures in a courtroom. It's not the piece with a cyborg woman crashing through a window fighting cyborg panthers. It's the picture of a grassy meadow and a salamander with a coffee and some bees.
Part of the complexity, I mean all of the complexity, comes from wanting to get the greenery right. Yeah, I could imply grass and leaves, and I did in the background, but I wanted the viewer to feel like they were in this grass. I love the look of sunlight shining through leaves, giving them this bright green/yellow glow. If I wanted to properly show those spots of sunlight, I was going to need to really pay attention to individual leaves.
I found this really beautiful, twisted, moss-covered tree on one of our hikes through Clear Creek Metro Park. It has so much life in its shape and all the things growing out of it, and I thought, you know, this would make a really lovely image. So I did a color sketch.
You can see I had a slightly different creative direction for this one early. But I felt that, as much as I love dinosaurs, we needed a better sense of mystery and discovery. Would I like to discover dinosaurs in a metro park? 100% yes. BUT how much cuter would it be to have a little salamander soaking in a warm summer morning? So I made another color sketch.
This composition would be mostly flowers and leaves in a meadow. There is this nice big tree to anchor the piece, but we need a better defined foreground, middle ground, and background. I can establish a few things by putting some giant leaves and bees in the foreground: we get a good size comparison for the tree, a bold object to help draw us into the image, and overlap to keep the perspective from flattening out.
The real challenge came not from determining the composition but filling in the leaves. These are essentially negative spaces: it's a meadow, so it is about the collection of thousands of leaves instead of individuals. But as the leaves get closer to the viewer, detailing them individually becomes more important to sell the environment. I didn't actually change the far background that much from this initial sketch. But how the hell am I going to paint leaves into the foreground without it looking like busy chaos? I'm not sure, honestly, but this is what I did.
First, I went back to the tree and shot some reference on a sunny day.
Then I outlined the spaces I needed to fill in my painting and took that shape outline over to the photo and moved it around until I liked the leaves inside of it. Then I traced the leaves in that outline and dragged the tracing back into my painting. This did two things for me: I was able to control what part of the reference I was looking at while painting, and I could control the value structure of the leaves I was painting. There were two value/color structures in the meadow, one for the shade and one for the sun. So I'd draw a shape over the sketch that represented the sun area, then take that shape and find leaves in the sun. Can you spot where I grabbed my reference?
The bees, and especially the salamander, actually took the least amount of time. I redesigned the bees to look cuter and less sinister (something about those black pointy legs creeped me out), but the salamander actually stayed exactly the same as the sketch. I was happy with this simple contented smile and his little grippy hands, things that just worked from the sketch and I didn't want to mess up that energy by overpainting him. I spent the most time holding the overall design in mind as I tackled each piece, hyper-diligent to keep colors and highlights in their place depending on whether they were in the shade or the sunlight, background, foreground, or middle ground. This determined everything from value range to detail.
Here's the starkest example, with foreground sunlight overlapping middle ground shade and background sunlight. The trees in the background needed just the right amount of detail to sell what they were, but primarily to accent the bees.
This is the part of the painting that almost drove me crazy. But once I started grabbing pieces of the reference that I liked and sort of puzzle-piecing them together, the process became much easier. If leaves were in the shade they had three values and two hues: some leaves had a warmer hue from echoing sunlight from surrounding leaves, others were cooler, getting their light by reflecting the blue sky. If the leaves were in the sunlight they had four values and two hues: if we were seeing the leaf from below, they would have a bright warm yellow hue because of the sunlight glowing through them. If we saw the top of the leaf, it had a cooler, whiter hue, since we were seeing the sun bouncing directly off of the leaf. It took a lot of meticulous, detail minded execution to get through this little section of meadow.
This was one of the only places where the leaves were sparse enough that it was easy to show the difference between abstract soft background and sharper, brighter middle ground. This was probably one of the more fun parts of the painting to execute, oddly enough.
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