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Figurative does not mean figure

Where do you fall on the continuum from representation to abstraction?

I Saw the Figure 5 in Gold, 1928, Charles Demuth, courtesy the Metropolitan Museum of Art

English (my daughter never tires of telling me) is a descriptive, rather than proscriptive, language. Words mean whatever most people agree that they mean. Thatā€™s why English is so endlessly adaptableā€”why, for example, we can suddenly accept the ungrammatical ā€˜theirā€™ as a replacement for ā€˜hisā€™ or ā€˜herā€™ without making a Federal case of it. English sees a need and answers it, and its users follow along.

There is one neologism I resist, however, and thatā€™s the substitution of the word figurative for figure. As descriptions of art, they are not equivalent. Figure painting means painting the human form. Figurative paintingmeans realism.

Rider, Attic red-figured cup, middle of 5th century BC, courtesy of Luynes Collection

Figurative is an old word in English, and comes to us from French. It has always had overtones of metaphor and meaning. Itā€™s slightly different from figure, which has multiple meanings in English. Figurecan mean a shape, the human body; a number, or a symbol. Think of the term figure eight and you begin to understand the complexity of the word.

Figurative art, or figurativism, however, is simple: it means representational art. The term was coined when abstraction came along, to describe abstractionā€™s opposite number. A painting of your car is as figurative as a painting of your spouse.

Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket, 1874, James Abbott McNeill Whistler, courtesy Detroit Institute of Arts 

What is the difference between figurative and abstract art? Itā€™s not easy to draw a line. There have always been elements of abstraction in figurative art. This is why ancient art often surprises us with its modernity.

Even hyperrealism is a form of abstraction. Itā€™s seemingly impossible for humans to represent nature exactly as it appears. Imperfect beings, we insist on putting our own spin on everything.
Likewise, there are often figures in abstract art, and much abstraction derives from observed figures in nature. The abstract geometry of Piet Mondrian, for example, resonates with us because weā€™ve observed such geometry in nature.

Premier Disque, c. 1912-13, Robert Delaunay, private collection

The ā€˜figureā€™ in Charles Demuthā€™s I Saw the Figure 5 in Gold is both a number and a symbol. And itā€™s both abstract and realistic. It was painted in homage to his friend William Carlos Williamsā€™ poem, The Great Figure:

Among the rain
and lights
I saw the figure 5
in gold
on a red
firetruck
moving
tense
unheeded
to gong clangs
siren howls
and wheels rumbling
through the dark city.

Just boats

Drydock at Genesee Yacht Club, 12X16, oil on canvasboard.
Iā€™m sorry about the lack of a post yesterday; the collywobbles-sans-merci blew through my household this weekend. Sometimes when the limbs are still, the mind does its best work.
Last summer Howard Gallagher of Camden Falls Gallery took Lee Boynton and me out to see the start of the Camden feeder of the Eggemoggin Reach Regatta. Itā€™s the first time Iā€™ve ever filled my entire 16-GB memory card and my cell phone with pictures. (I think Lee took about as many.) That day was one of the highlights of my summer.
Howe Point dinghy, 6X8, oil on canvasboard.
I love painting boats, and could spend my whole summer on the dock with them. You canā€™t paint them under sail en plein air, except as slashes of white against the sky; they move too fast for that. And I donā€™t generally paint from photos, so I shot pictures of them and contented myself with that. Anyway, my habit for the last decade or so has been to spend the summer painting en plein air and the winter doing figurative work in my studio. Usually that figurative work has an overlay of social commentary to it; I just canā€™t seem to help myself.
At Camden Harbor, 6X8, oil on canvasboard.
I returned to Rochester in September with a show penciled in for next March and a great concept. Nothing about this has worked out right. The gallery and I havenā€™t been able to reach terms. I havenā€™t been able to get the models on board. The model I started with suddenly developed cold feet (perhaps he needs warmer socks). My stretchers were backordered. Yada, yada.
Tide running out, 12X16, oil on canvasboard.
About a dozen times over the past few weeks Iā€™ve muttered to myself, ā€œIā€™d really rather be painting boats.ā€ And then this weekend, twisting around in the damp embrace of my sheets, I asked myself, ā€œWhy arenā€™t you just painting boats? They make you happy, they make other people happy.ā€ And I realized I have utterly no enthusiasm for this project that has proven so difficult.
At Camden, 12X16, oil on canvasboard.
So Iā€™ve cancelled my spring show in Rochester, and Iā€™m going to paint boats. Not social commentary, just sailboats.

Remember, youā€™ve got until December 31 to get an early-bird discount for next yearā€™s Acadia workshop. Read all about it here, or download a brochure here