posted August 25, 2012 06:17 PM            

We could pick out a photo and use whatever medium we chose to interpret it and post our final pieces here (everyone does NOT have to use the same medium).

This is not a contest. I don't view art that way. And you don't need to consider yourself an artist to participate. Whatever your skill level is fine and welcome. Even if you think you can barely draw a stick figure, please consider participating.

Another thread & member (Teasel) sparked this idea.

Below is not the thread I saw awhile back that i found so interesting, but similar and what i'm talking about:

Same Subject, Different Visions

On Location with Michael Stasinos and Mitchell Albala

It never ceases to amaze me how unique each painter's vision can be—in everything from the subjects they choose to the color choices they make or the type of painterly handwriting they use. There is perhaps no better way to see this in action than when two painters work side by side, painting the same subject.

Michael Stasinos and I had an opportunity to do this last summer during a plein air painting session. We set out to paint the view of my neighborhood in Ballard, Seattle. From our elevated position, we could see the setting sun light up the streets, turning the gray asphalt into orange and yellow stripes that made colorful patterns of light and dark. How would we each tackle this difficult visual problem?

Michael Stasinos is an extraordinarily talented landscape painter (and figurative painter as well). In many ways, our approach to landscape couldn't be more different. We are both representational, but he tries to get to the soul of a subject through highly focused detail; I try to reach the soul through abstract shapes and a diffuse light that renders forms with considerably less detail.

We both selected the exact same view and a vertical format as well. This gave us more sky to play with—an important decision since the sky is the light source and integral to the drama of the subject. He began with a warm cadmium orange undertone, which he said was unusual for him. He usually starts with an undertone of Paynes gray. I began with a blue undertone with the intention of placing my warms—the light-struck streets and rooftops—over the blue underpainting.

For a moment, I imagined us like Monet and Renoir painting La Grenouillère together in 1869. (Well, maybe that's overstating it.) But I did wonder what they might have talked about. Did they paint in silence or did Monet lean over to Renoir from time to time and say, "Pierre, are you really going to use that yellow?" Did Renoir mumble under his breath, "I really suck at this. Monet...he really knows what he's doing." Michael and I exchanged friendly advice from time to time and thought out loud about our own patterns and habits. Were we approaching the problem the way we always did or trying something different?

After an 90 minutes, it was obvious that we were both interested in the patterns made by the streets. However, there was a clear difference in the way we went about capturing the effects of the light and glare. Michael used considerably stronger value contrasts than I did. He used many small touches of saturated color, but there were also many dark, neutral color areas. The values in my piece are much lighter overall and have a narrower range. My colors and shapes are also grouped into tighter color groups, which is one way I try to emphasize a unified light and atmosphere.

The result of our efforts: my plein air painting at left, Michael's at right.

It is also worth noting that neither of us tried to record the precise colors we saw. That's really never possible. Instead, we manipulate color and value in different ways to create a metaphor for the actual light. What is remarkable is that our divergent conclusions both express an effective impression of the visual experience we had that day. If we've done our homework well, our color solutions will capture something the photograph never could.