Unlike writing, there is a lack of specificity in visual representation. A work of art can be interpreted by an audience in a very different way than its maker intended, and (adding to the complication) displaying a work of art beside another can change the perceived meanings of both.
For "long," I tried to embed several meanings and ideas, most of them quite personal, and also to take some risks with method and medium by using a mixture of watercolor (the familiar), ink (less familiar), and kozo paper (the radically unfamiliar). After careful planning (building in part on a long-desired panorama subject), my first attempt went horribly wrong, the watercolors not behaving at all as expected, the paper nearly disintegrating. Knowing that my first attempt was doomed, I began to use it as a hobby horse to try out other methods and mediums. I played with thicker paint (the indigo) and even more freely with the ink. Then I set it aside. The results were as seen below:
Untitled study in watercolor and ink on kozo paper, 7 x 28 inches, 2016.
The next day I started again, this time knowing that washes would be impossible. I gave up on my plans for color, and instead relied heavily upon drawing pens to get layering and detail effects. At the last moment, feeling it was still too spidery, I added several indications of clouds with a very fine pen, and then used some gray-toned markers to darken the foreground and framing.
Composition Study: Sutro Distance. Ink and marker on kozo paper, 7x 28 inches, 2016.
I was happier than I thought I would be with the energy in the tree at right, yet, overall the image was definitely not "finished" to me. It carried none of the emotion that I wanted to express. However it did capture the view I was looking for, the composition I was considering, yet had been doubtful of.
For fun, I brought both the failure and the completed study to show. I thought that there might be something interesting to say about risk, or improvisation, or materials, or something. Instead and much to my chagrin, my colleagues enjoyed the "mistake" more than the study. Although I couldn't disagree more, they did not have my experience of failure to influence their perception. And, glancing at the two works side-by-side, the study became hopelessly technical, rigid, without feeling.
What would the perceptions have been had the study been displayed alone? What if the study had not been displayed at all, and only the "failure?" Which set of perceptions would have been closer to the message I wanted to convey? The experience leaves me with more questions and, to some degree, doubts, than it does to answers—but maybe that's a good place to be right now.
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