What is the perfect painting?
What is the perfect painting? Is a loaded question to ask and an impossible question to answer. I’m sure it is pretty obvious that there is no such thing as the perfect painting. This is true from two points of view:
There is no such thing as creating a perfect painting
There is no such thing as collecting a perfect painting
From the perspective of the artist, there cannot be a perfect painting, and there are many reasons why. I’ll go through a few that are relevant to me, but pretty much every artist will have their own take on this, and the key is, perfectionism is the enemy of progress (I don’t particularly feel like crediting this quote to Winston Churchill as a matter of principle, and he was certainly not the first to express this sentiment).
First, there’s the trouble of identifying perfect, let’s not get started on that one. Second, perfect feels a heck of a lot like an endpoint. We call it an art practice for a reason. A painting that feels just right in the moment it is completed will likely feel inadequate in another year or two. Each piece is a step along a path, and not always a linear one, that hopefully lasts forever. Each painting allows the artist to explore something new, there are many ways to explore one idea and there are infinite ways to explore many ideas. And there aren’t many creatives I can think of whose interests are so constrained that it would be possible to explore and express them all in a single piece of work. This is something that has helped me since I first heard it on the Art Juice podcast (fantastic by the way), advice that Alice Sheridan shares frequently, that each painting just has to be This is why we see bodies of work, series, collections, themes, techniques, approaches that span years or decades. If we could arrive at the perfect painting, where would we go from there?
Related, is the question of, “when is a painting finished?” which is harder to answer. With an understanding that we will never arrive at a perfect painting, then we are free to settle on a good enough painting. The problem being, how do we know what is good enough? I think as creators we need to arrive at a sense of satisfaction that lingers long enough to ward off the overthinking part that also comes. There is a balance between, ‘I like this’ and ‘but what could make it better?’. The ‘I like this’ is an important instinct to listen to, but sometimes it holds us back from pushing into the unknown, if we really mean ‘I like this right now and I’m scared to mess it up’.
When I am in this place and am unsure how I really feel, I usually: 1. Give it some time, move the painting out of the studio and somewhere I’ll see it regularly, and decide later and 2. Ponder what I wanted from the painting, and if I need to keep pushing it or if I really should start a new painting with a new line of inquiry that arose from this one. Sometimes the feeling of ‘not done’ is really just a deepening curiosity meaning the idea isn’t done even if the painting is.
From the collector’s perspective, there will never be a painting that checks all the boxes and is just right in every way and that will be loved forever and ever and passed down through generations. “What? That’s terrible!” cried the artist’s ego. Okay, maybe it is possible to hit all the marks but it would take an unbelievable amount of luck and aligning of stars, and I don’t think you should wait that long to buy a piece of art that makes you feel happy.
One key piece of advice is: don’t buy art to match the sofa. Point being that hopefully the art will outlive the sofa and if you want it to match the sofa then you’re probably looking for décor, and I don’t think you want to spend the big bucks on original art. With that in mind, do buy art that makes you feel something. Not that it’s pretty, or even that it reminds you of somewhere or someone or something, but the emotional connection is what will withstand time and will ensure that the art becomes part of your story.
The other thing to remember as that a single painting is unlikely to encompass your full story. All the things in your home that don’t serve a purely functional purpose, probably tell us something about you. Just like as an artist I can’t expect to cram all my ideas into one painting, as a collector I have a breath of art pieces, trinkets, and ‘stuff’ that, together, tell my story.
The emotional connection and the piece of your story are what will differentiate the art that is cherished and even passed through generations and the art that ends up at the thrift shop after a few years. Original art is an investment. It’s not a purchase I take lightly. I am the kind of person who has trouble treating myself and is overly practical and usually waits too long for the ‘right time’ to do something expensive. So, the point of all this is just to say, relax. Take the pressure off finding the perfect piece of art, and just be open to the right piece of art for you.
