Art Chowder March | April 2018, Issue 14 | Page 12
Art Chowder: Do you paint from pictures, live models, or still
life sets?
Victoria: A painting usually starts with an abstract idea/
composition. An image forms in my head and I start putting
paint on canvas. For example, it can be something like, “I
want a strong diagonal movement and I want a large area
of strong solid color balanced by somewhat intricate details
on the left.” I move shapes and colors around the canvas,
figuring out the composition. Nothing is set in stone at this
point, but it’s my starting point. The narrative aspect comes
later. It can be a figure; it can be a building; it can be a bunch
of flowers.
I do use whatever references are available—my sketches,
photographs (although photos can be tricky; they rarely show
what a human eye sees and I’m a terrible photographer), and
still life sets. I even sometimes set pieces of fabric to mimic
the folds of clothing for a figure, if I need to understand how
the light hits it, or how the colors affect each other. I do a lot
of “constructing” reality on canvas; that’s where experience
with 3D modeling comes in handy. It does not have to be
perfectly right, it just has to be convincing.
Regardless of the subject, I like to rely on memory as much
as possible. It is said that painting (or drawing) is all about
editing—what is important, what is not, what absolutely
needs to be on a canvas, and what is distracting. Memory
works in an interesting way. It captures the essence of a
person, a place or a thing; it does a lot of editing before the
brush touches the canvas.
"Almost Winter"
24 x 24” - oil on canvas
"West Sprague"
10 x 20” - oil on canvas
The whole painting process is a lot like jazz for me.
Everything can change; nothing is final until the painting is
done. Things move around, get painted in and painted out.
Most of my works are many layers of unfinished alla prima
paintings. There is something about building up the texture,
the depth of colors, when each previous layer helps the next
one.
I keep painting until I hit the right “note.” It can be a
particular color, a shape, or even a brush stroke, but when
it happens, it feels right and it works as a tuning fork for
everything else. And then everything starts falling into place
and the painting itself starts telling me what to do. At this
point, I stop looking at my references, disassemble my still
life set and just look at the painting, figuring out what it
needs.
A painting, I believe, is very similar to a closed ecosystem.
With its own rules, relations between its different parts, and
its fragile balance.
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ART CHOWDER MAGAZINE
"City Dweller"
30x 48” - oil on canvas