Revealing brilliance: a history of artists who transformed light and atmosphere with paint
From the sun glistening on the surface of a creek, to the golden-hour light revealing the web of veins in an old tree, we can see how light illuminates our world with colour, provides contrast with its shadows, and gives us life.
Painters throughout history have taken up the challenge of capturing light on a canvas. It is a master painter who can use texture to reveal brilliance, who can make the ultramarine of the sky as luminous as its reflection in the sea. The incomparable artists included in Visionary: The Paul G. Allen Collection, at Christie’s this November, are some of the finest painters who have captured light in all its complexity.
An impression of colour
In 1900, Claude Monet took a trip to London with his wife and step daughter to visit his son, Michel, who had taken up residence in the capital. Monet spent nearly all his time painting the city. He would return the next three springs, focusing on three motifs: the Houses of Parliament, Charing Cross Bridge, and Waterloo Bridge.
His numerous iterations of the two bridges seen from his balcony track how the sun reflected off the water throughout the day. In Waterloo Bridge, soleil voilé (1899-1903), his depiction of this scene reached its apex. It portrays the hard surroundings of the cityscape — the bridge, the factories in the background — as a symphony of colour, emphasizing the phantasmal way in which London’s characteristic fog shrouds its mechanistic perpetual motion in a veil of stillness and silence.
Claude Monet (1840-1926), Waterloo Bridge, soleil voilé, 1899-1903. Oil on canvas. 25¾ x 39½ in (65.4 x 100 cm). Sold for $64,510,000 in Visionary: The Paul G. Allen Collection on 9 November 2022 at Christie’s in New York
Balancing this was the ultimate challenge for the artist, who for years had been studying how to capture the ephemeral atmosphere of ever-changing landscapes. The weather, the time of day and the flow of water under the bridge all shaped the industrial landscape he sought to depict. But it was the fog that proved most difficult to tame and that contributed to the unique effet of London.
‘Without the fog, London would not be a beautiful city,’ he said to the dealer René Gimpel in 1920. ‘It’s the fog that gives it its magnificent breadth. Those massive, regular blocks became grandiose within that mysterious cloak.’
The haze of lilac, blue and violet tones in Waterloo Bridge, soleil voilé capture how this fog affected the Thames in the afternoon, as the westerly moving sun penetrated the dense cloud to gently light up the wide arches of the bridge. Reflections, and the delicate mystery of London’s unique atmosphere interested Monet endlessly during his time in the city.
This appreciation of colour and its kindred relationship to light recurs throughout Mr. Allen’s collection, most notably in a watercolour of Lake Lungern in Switzerland by Joseph Mallord William Turner.
Reflections on a landscape
J.M.W. Turner’s lifelong habit of quickly setting down pencil and watercolour impressions would shape his practice as he grew older and less able to travel. The Lungernsee by Moonlight, Switzerland, circa 1848 — part of his final series of Swiss subjects — was painted from memory, with the assistance of one of these sketches.
Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775-1851), The Lungernsee by Moonlight, Switzerland, c. 1848. Pencil and watercolour with some pen dipped in colour, on wove paper. 15 ¼ x 22 ¼ in (38.4 x 56.2cm). Sold for $4,620,000 in Visionary: The Paul G. Allen Collection on 9 November 2022 at Christie’s in New York
When it first appeared at Christie’s in 1865 the work was untitled, as it had not been exhibited during the artist’s lifetime. At the time, it was mistakenly considered to be an image of Lake Nemi, the volcanic crater south-east of Rome. Only in 2001 was its subject discovered to be Lungernsee, one of the chain of small lakes travellers encounter when ascending from Lucerne to the Brunig Pass.
As in other works from Turner’s Swiss series, he deals heavily in contrast, using mustard yellows and earthy greens against mauve and ultramarine shadows to trace the path of reflected light from the waxing crescent moon. All of this is soothed by the sea-green reflections in the lake’s luminous waters. His technique of building up colour over layers of translucent washes and flecks of paint help refine this subtle evocation of twilight, making it feel at once tranquil and energetic.
Monet and Turner, drawn to these specific locales and their changing environments, represent a central tenet of this collection: the unique perspective of the artist. As Mr. Allen described: ‘You become sensitive to the fact that places with special light attract painters, and you want to experience that through their eyes.’
Shadows and the unknown
Often the emotional effect of light comes from its relationship to shadow. In a picture of a sunny day, our eyes travel to the rare spot of shade to see what is hiding. In the evening, by contrast, we can’t look away from the warm glow of light from a house or a streetlamp. In René Magritte’s La voix du sang, nine small lights emanate from within a grand inside the tree, pulling us into its mystery.
René Magritte (1898-1967), La voix du sang, 1948. Oil on canvas. 31⅛ x 23⅛ in (79.1 x 58.6 cm). Sold for $26,725,000 in Visionary: The Paul G. Allen Collection on 9 November 2022 at Christie’s in New York
Translated as Blood will tell or, literally, ‘the voice of blood’, Magritte’s surreal landscape borrows in equal parts from Lewis Carrol’s Alice in Wonderland — where Alice enters a doorway in a tree — and the artist’s own interest in the fantastic. ‘The words dictated by our blood sometimes seem mysterious to us,’ he said about this title in a collection of writings. ‘Here it seems we are ordered to open up magic niches in trees.’
Positioned on the edge of a hill against a boundless landscape, the cabinet-like tree contains a small house and, in the notch above, a sphere. Notably, the top cabinet door is slightly ajar, with no hint as to what may be lurking behind.
Avoiding clear symbolism — a house means ‘x’, or a sphere means ‘y’ — Magritte repurposes readymade objects to evoke a sensation. The warm glow from the house suggests that perhaps we can only truly be at home in the world where some mystery remains. To understand everything would be to have nothing left to uncover. The door left ajar, thus, speaks to this tension between concealment, the unknown, and the feeling of home.
Here, the light shining through darkness opens the world to the viewer by presenting only a sliver of information, leaving the rest to interpretation. Using shadow as a foil to light in order to reveal, on the other hand, can have an equally profound effect.
A golden-hour paradise
Maxfield Parrish’s Hilltop is a masterful depiction of this relationship between light and shadow. Parrish wanted his work to speak for itself: ‘to my mind, if the picture does not tell its own story, it’s better to have the story without the picture,’ he said. ‘The picture tells all there is, there is nothing more.’
Maxfield Parrish (1870-1966), Hilltop, 1926. Oil on panel. 35¾ x 22 1/4 in (91 x 56.5 cm). Sold for $6,660,000 in Visionary: The Paul G. Allen Collection on 9 November 2022 at Christie’s in New York
Hilltop, painted in 1926, depicts an idyllic environment inspired by the picturesque area surrounding Parrish’s home near the Connecticut River between Vermont and New Hampshire. Known for its old oak trees, rolling blue hills and great sense of space, the property was purchased by Parrish with images such as Hilltop in mind.
His models recline in classical poses, rays of light puncturing the verdant leaves of the oak before landing across them. They are luminous in the golden light. Paired with the artist’s meticulously layered, Old Master-inspired glazing technique that enhances the colours, the scene jumps from the picture plane — transforming the American landscape into an idealised paradise.
The ethereal light, radiant colour and classical proportions of this Eden hold our attention as our eyes travel to the background and notice the detailed magnificence of the distant mountains.
Nothing is left hidden, yet everything appears as if in a dream. Parrish chooses a perspective that does not shroud our gaze, nor filter our vision.
A light from behind the canvas
Another artist who deals with the complexities of light, Andrew Wyeth uses a different technique to present an oneiric vision. Framed by a mesh curtain that catches the light of two open windows, the subject of Wyeth’s Day Dream appears in a liminal space, bringing themes of intimacy and distance into the frame.
Andrew Wyeth (1917-2009), Day Dream, 1980. Tempera on panel. 19 x 27¼ in (48.3 x 69.2 cm). Sold for $23,290,000 in Visionary: The Paul G. Allen Collection on 9 November 2022 at Christie’s in New York
It’s a provocative composition, giving a voyeuristic view of the woman at rest, and yet she is veiled, hidden from sight as much as she is revealed. Wyeth is exceptional in his portrayal of how the netted fabric around her catches the light, giving her the appearance of a goddess about to wake.
The work was created in the Wyeth family home in Port Clyde, Maine, in 1980, and is part of a series of works of Helga Testorf, a nurse working in the home of his neighbours, the Kuerners, who were the subject of more than 400 of the Wyeth’s works.
As one comes closer to the painting, looking more closely at the bright tempera of the windows and the movement of light across Helga’s body, the luminous whites and creams reveal their incredible detail. It becomes apparent that their texture, in addition to their colour, is what brings this subtle radiance throughout the composition.
Each of these masterworks is born from an appreciation of light, and how it can be harnessed to convey different emotion. Wyeth explores closeness with a delicate balance of light across a figure, while Parrish and Magritte probe the mystery of light and shadow in landscape. Monet portrays the physiognomy of a city, and the impressions of light on a foggy afternoon. Turner employs similar techniques to study openness and sense of place on Lungernsee.
These works from the collection of Paul G. Allen are masterpieces of light, created by artists who pioneered the ways in which it can be most provocative. They each conjure an atmosphere that feels elusive, but nonetheless evokes a clear and distinct feeling, even if it cannot be expressed in words. They understand atmosphere, and, above all, how the human condition reacts to its ever-changing, visceral environment.
Painting | How to Use Reflected Light
✓ Showcase your talent and win big in Artists Network prestigious art competitions! Discover competitions in a variety of media and enter for your chance to win cash prizes, publication in leading art magazines, global exposure, and rewards for your hard work. Plus, gain valuable feedback from renowned jurors. Let your passion shine through – enter an art competition today!
Subtleties of Light
Lovely and elusive, reflected light adds life and dimension to your painting.
By Jane Jones
Light that you see shining on an object is of two types, direct and indirect. The direct light is usually the lightest area of an object. The indirect light—which I’ll refer to as reflected light—is that which bounces off other objects in the same area.
The easiest place to see reflected light is near the shadow areas of an object. This light can create a beautiful glow in an area opposite the light source—a glow which separates an object from the surrounding dark area, emphasizing the illusion of form. Reflected light tells the viewer that the object doesn’t just stop at the shadow but rolls around to the back, adding dimension. Compositionally, reflected light can create a gorgeous bit of variance in an otherwise dark or uninteresting area, bringing it to life.
Look at the photograph of a sphere in sunlight (above). The highlight area directly in the path of the sunlight is the lightest because it’s in the direct light. On the left and lower areas of the sphere you see light of a darker value that’s reflected from the sphere’s surroundings. Direct light is always lighter in value than reflected light, so the value of reflected light should not compete in any way with the highlights or lights. On the other hand, reflected light is always lighter than the shadowed areas.
When you see a shadow, look right next to it for reflected light. Sometimes it’s as apparent as it is on the sphere, while other times the reflected light isn’t so obvious. My painting La Luna (at top) has many areas of reflected light—some readily apparent and some subtle. The main light source is to the upper left of the setup.
Drapery
In the background area on the far left side is an L-shape (A). The light within the L-shape can’t be from the main light source on the left, because the fabric billow blocks that source. The light in that area is reflected from the white flower. Compositionally, this reflected light leads the viewer’s eye right back to the focal area, which is the flower.
Notice how the sliver of reflected light in the fabric fold in the foreground (B) helps to separate that part of the drapery from the area behind it.
The lower right corner (C) is one of the least lit areas of the composition, so the reflected light there is darker than the other reflected lights. There’s just enough light to draw attention to that portion of the painting. This light also separates the drapery fold from the fabric behind it.
Magnolia
Always look near the shadow area of an object for the reflected light. The right side of petal D reflects the light from the petal next to it (E). In turn, petal E is reflecting light from the petal next to it.
The upper outside part of petal F is reflecting the shine from the leaf behind it. The light is white because the shine is so bright. The lower outside of petal G is reflecting the light from the petal below.
You might expect the inside cup of the flower to be darker than it appears in this painting. That would be the case if the flower itself were a darker color—like red. But the light inside the magnolia reflects all over and illuminates most of the petals. You can see this reflected light clearly near the tip of petal H.
Leaves
The intensity of reflected light changes as an object recedes from the light source. Leaf I is close to the flower, so the reflected light is very light, but not as bright as the shine of the leaves or the leaf highlights. The reflected light on leaf J is also quite light because of the leaf’s proximity to the flower.
Leaf K is farther away from the white flower, so the reflection on that leaf isn’t as bright as reflections in leaves I and J.
The right of leaf L is in dark shadow, yet it reflects a little light. This gives the dark shadowed area interest and illuminates the leaf’s texture. I painted this area lighter than I really wanted it to be, because I knew I would paint over it later with a glaze of dark green to really put the leaf into shadow.
The entire shadow area of leaf M is lightened with reflected light, so this shadow isn’t as dark as the shadow on leaf L.
The lower portion of leaf N also has just a bit of reflected light.
All the reflected light in this painting comes from the white flower. You can see how the light bounces around the entire composition, bringing all areas into harmony and shadows to life. Once you start looking for reflected light, you’ll see its beauty and compositional possibilities.
My palette
All paints used for La Luna (on page 74) are Winsor & Newton.
- Drapery: I used mixtures of phthalo turquoise, transparent yellow, titanium white and Gamblin napthol scarlet. For the glaze I used the same color mixtures, but without the white.
- Flower: Here I used the same colors as I did for the drapery, but mixed to be much grayer. Because white objects reflect the colors around them more obviously than objects of other colors, I usually mix my whites so they’ll have the surrounding colors in them. Creating mixes with the same colors throughout a composition also creates color harmony. For the lightest areas of the flower, I added Naples yellow light to titanium white. For glazing I used the same color mixtures I used on the flowers, but without the white. I also used some of the drapery glaze on the flowers to create unity and to make the flower nestle into the leaves.
- Leaves: I used mixtures of cadmium yellow pale, French ultramarine and titanium white. I emphasized all the white highlights with a mixture of titanium white and transparent yellow. The glaze is a mixture of transparent yellow and ultramarine blue.
