The Following article appeared in the International Artist Magazine, August/Sept 2009 Edition...

An analytical approach helps Tracey Jayne Thomas identify just what makes the image irresistible so that she can create that same feeling on her canvas.

The Art of Deconstructing

My working practice as an artist has developed into a blend of the creative and the analytical.  From the point of inspiration for a painting or drawing, I approach my work with a method I think of as deconstructing to reconstruct.  That is, I try to deconstruct what I see with my eye, in order to reconstruct that image upon canvas.

Whether working from life or photographic source material, I seek to (metaphorically) take apart what is in front of me, to understand the make-up of what I am looking at and the relationship between the component parts.  This becomes a constant process, initially in the study of the composition as an overview, but then continuing through to the canvas.  It is important for me to detach myself from the natural beauty of what I am looking at, to objectify the scene.  This analytical approach helps me to identify what makes the image work, without getting lost in the overall beauty of the composition.

As a process of work, of creation, this is not something I have intentionally planned out.  Rather, it is a methodology that has evolved organically through my working practice.  I have arrived at this method via a process of trial and error, but also perhaps through my very nature as a person who likes things organised and ordered, someone who seeks out the critical path.

First, of course, there comes inspiration.

My current inspiration comes from my direct environment.  My home backs onto woodland on the rural outskirts of Aberystwyth, Wales, and from my lounge studio I have the privilege of experiencing the changing woodland throughout the seasons.  My woodland garden is my peaceful retreat, and I want to capture the spirit of the woods, the feelings, the emotions evoked within me. My desire is to recreate that sense of light and warmth, to create an intimacy, a reflective emotion.  I feel that I best achieve this intimacy by focusing upon one particular element, cutting out the extraneous.

When out walking, I am often 'stopped in my tracks', and it is here where the analysing truly begins.  What is the emotional pull that draws me to this particular scene?  – What exactly is it that makes it seem so beautiful that it stands out from all others?  What makes it irresistible?  Is there a collection of key components, or some solitary punctum?  These elements are crucial to identify and include in any painting.  This essentially drives the creative process as it forms both the inspiration and motivation to recreate that moment on canvas - and the challenge - can I do it? Can I create/invoke that same feeling on canvas as I felt in life?

Now I begin to break down the dimensional values, from the nearest foreground focus to the farthest background and all that fall between.  I identify the shapes, both positive and negative, that fit together to form the whole, and the tonal values, darkest to lightest, comparing one mid-tone with another to establish its position on the tonal scale.

After taking numerous photographs I return to my studio and work through the gathered images.  Some will jump out at me as having truly captured the scene, the moment and the emotion I experienced.  These images I collate and contemplate, making copious notes on composition possibilities, cropping, inclusion and exclusion.  I visualise these images on canvas and consider all I have learned in previous work that I could bring to this painting, and what is new in this particular scene that will challenge me.  Though I continue the process of deconstruction, my final selection is made in an absolute balance of the analytical and the creative.  Why I finally choose one particular composition over another is at the very heart of me as an artist.  That I can’t break down, or perhaps ever truly understand.

How the constituent parts of my selected scene work both individually, and together, to create the whole, is a constant process of evaluation.  At this stage, these elements are broken down further within their range of colours, hues, tones, colour relationships etc.  A significant amount of time is spent creating colour combination test-cards.  I always establish a working palette, utilising an ice-cube tray, which can be sealed in an airtight container at the end of each painting session.  The time taken to paint a large canvas, coupled with the desire for consistency, necessitates control of the frequent mixing of acrylic.  Therefore, with the selected hues I make a 'palette key', detailing all colours to be used, and their composition.

The first marks on the canvas are to grid, and lightly sketch in the information I need.  When it comes to actually painting I remain, simply, an artist with brush and palette, standing before my canvas.  The deconstruction process has provided me with the right tools and an understanding of the scene in my mind where it then blends with emotion, with inspiration, to help me to achieve my goal.

Painting is approached in sections, creating areas of concentrated study.  These areas are not dictated by my earlier gridding; rather they are visual ‘zones’ that stand out to me.  When applying the acrylic, I work by systematically developing each section in layers from under-painting through to near completion.  Building up layers of paint in certain areas enhances richness and depth - but this is not always desired.  Sometimes a single layer is all that’s needed to communicate luminosity, delicacy and purity of colour.  Working on pure white primed canvas allows me the freedom to flow between these two ways of working in order to achieve the desired results in the finished painting.  From an early point, this method allows me to get a sense of the final painting, maintaining a balance between the fluidity of brush-work, and my desired vision.  This process is threaded crucially with stepping back and switching my mental approach from creator to viewer.

Between major paintings, an essential part of my overall working process and development is observational drawing.  It's important for me to loosen up with sketches, sometimes limiting myself to five minutes.  This is a polar opposite to my analytical approach, but the spontaneous responses created by these forced five minutes help keep my work fresh, and the feeling of urgency creates interesting responses to mark making that informs all my other work.

Of course, there is no definitive way of working.  I consider all of the processes and techniques I have learned and developed to be a fluid and organic pool of resources that I dip into and apply selectively.  Every subject matter can determine a different approach depending on the desired effect and the overall result I am aiming for.  Most significantly, learning and development are a constant, so the process is, and should be, dynamic and responsive.

You can read more of my article here:

Art in the Making: Under the Ginkgo Tree