What I learned from the film about Antonio Lopez Garcia, Dream of Light

Quince tree with white paint marks
Mallards with lemons, oil on panel, 14×11 in

Recently a friend visiting my studio asked me why I paint the way I do. She asked if I paint the ceramic figurines in my paintings to look real merely to show that I can do it or if I had other reasons.

I answered her that I thought it was a matter of fidelity. A matter of being loyal to what I was seeing.

Unlike other approaches, realism is not about a sort of painting bravado or the expression of self, but more about an appreciation of the inherent beauty of what one is seeing – a faithful reproduction, to the extent one’s skill allows, without going overboard. It can be a reproduction not only of the subject one sees but the feeling one has for it and can include meaning beyond the paint.

One of my heroes of realist painting is the Spanish painter, Antonio Lopez Garcia. His paintings have a true fidelity to life and yet he conveys something of the nobility of the scene as well.

There is a wonderful documentary film about him painting a Quince tree in his studio garden, called, “El Sol del Membrillo” (in English, as: Dream of Light, Victor Erice, 1992)

It’s not snappy.

In fact, it is long, very long. It’s over two hours and perhaps best watched in several sittings. You could say it’s literally like watching paint dry. But I think it is terribly fascinating.

Even if you have to watch it over a period of several days it’s worth it as it provides great insight into the artist’s philosophy about how he approaches his work and his working methods. It conveys the sense of life as a dedication to excellence.

Quince tree with white paint marks
Quince tree with white paint markings and plumb line

One thing I took away from the film was that accuracy is very important to Antonio Lopez. He drew a horizontal line on the wall behind the tree he was painting, which he used in conjunction with a plumb line to center his reference. Then he painted marks on the leaves and fruit to guide his drawing. Genius.

The second takeaway was that after 11 days of intensive work, when the painting looked half finished, he decided he needed to lower the entire image on the canvas by 6 centimeters.

6. Centimeters.

So, he did!! He didn’t think twice about all the work he had already put into it. No “sunk costs” for him, but only a desire for it to be as good as it could be.

I’ve been looking for this video for years and recently found the full version online where you can view it for free. I have included the link below. These things come and go, so if you are interested, I recommend you watch it soon before it disappears again.

It is in Spanish so click the closed caption symbol for subtitles.

Fascinating. If you’re a fan, five thumbs up★★★★★ If you’re not, then four★★★★☆

What’s your favorite video showing an artist’s process?

2 Replies to “What I learned from the film about Antonio Lopez Garcia, Dream of Light”

  1. Jennifer Higginbotham says:

    Interesting post, Jean. It drives me the teensiest bit crazy when people assume that representational painting (especially ones as good as yours) as just showing off. It is learning and demonstrating how paint works and what it can do, which you learn by doing. It is a very long path to become such a masterful painter as you have become, and the imagery has meaning. The ceramic mallards with their “false eggs” are being tricky. The whole painting is tricky! The mallards aren’t real either as subjects or as objects, but they are looking so tenderly at these lemons. And that absurd nest on its back is all wrong! Those poor confused fake mallards with their fake eggs and useless nest! It’s artifice at its best. Witty and thoughtful. I love this painting, Jean. I WANT IT.

    1. Jenni, thanks for the kind words about my work. Yes, all painting is artifice so perhaps this is meta-artifice. (I just love sneaking “meta” into a conversation when I can). I know what you mean about assumptions. In this case, I don’t think she was assuming I was showing off, but rather trying to understand why I paint the way I do. So often realism is seen as a throwback to an earlier era rather than a voice for the present. Glad you got the meaning of it.

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