When I was in college I took a painting class that I still attest gave me an arsenal of skills for theater/performance making; it gave me a new ways to think and talk about what I do.
One of the things that my painting instructor used to say was ‘You are painting too close to the canvas.’ This meant that there would be parts of the painting that worked really well, but as a whole, it didn’t fit together. It was common to see in a still-life, say, one object quite detailed in its texture and light etc, but when you step back and look at the full picture, the texture and light in that object has no relationship to the other objects represented. It is impossible to believe that object is in the same world as the others; you are painting too close to the canvas.
It is a way of saying, you are losing sight of the piece as a whole. Or, you are getting hungup on details that may prove irrelevant when you take a step back.
The other way I also like to think of this phrase – though I’m not sure it was the true intention of its meaning by this nameless painting instructor- is when you need to borrow the perspective of others to see what they are seeing in your work. Because I am perhaps “painting too close to the canvas” and I could use a fresh perspective. I know the strings behind this piece I’m making right now. I know which idea triggered what. So I’m painting with my face pressed right up against this puppy, and I wonder about the access I’m granting to audience folk.
So this is the approach I have to my open rehearsal on Friday. It’s at 1pm on a Friday the thirteenth. Go on, play hookie from that job. Help me get this paint off of my nose.
(And even if you can’t make it to mine, I am very excited to see the work of my colleagues and can guarantee some massively interesting work there…)
