Travelling for a State of Mind

Go To My Website

Your work reflects your state of mind. At least that is what I keep telling myself. I wanted to paint in Colorado on my birthday. So my husband and I got in the car and headed there, with my paints in the trunk. Last year we had gone with similar intentions, only for me to end up in Good Samaritan Hospital having a surprise appendectomy. So this year I was determined to paint SOMETHING in Colorado. ANYTHING in Colorado.

My cousin, who is a pastel artist, his sister, and hubby and I all headed out for Garden of the Gods just outside Colorado Springs. My cousin was intent on going there to paint, and we had not been since our honeymoon, over 45 years ago.  The sky was cerulean, the sunlight bright and the breeze, just a tickle. The traffic coupled with the road construction was a nightmare. We got a late start and needed to be back by a certain time, so the window to work was short. The place was so amazing that we could have wasted our time looking for that perfect view, amidst the wondrous choice of views, and I was determined to not do that, given that our time there was so short. My cousin and I set up right there in the parking lot by the visitors’ center, as the rest of our group headed out to explore.

Welcome To The Garden of The Gods
11x14 Oil on prepared board
Available

 

Immersed in the play of light, the coolness of the cast shadows and the glow of the red rocks, we got to work. Getting down to the painting of it was the foremost thing on my mind, before I lost that delicious glow. Some of the rocks were on fire with light. Just try painting the light play over a rock face to make you realize how fast the light changes. I no sooner got what I thought was a great introduction to the park than all heck broke loose with the sun dancing across surfaces. The light changed as fast as I put down the value notes. Talk about practicing your visual memory! There was no dawdling. Even the light conspired to make us work fast, not just our schedule. It was an exercise in thinking “O gawd, why didn’t I wait for this light effect to paint……it’s so much more beautiful than the one I am doing!” But if you chase the light you are lost. You cannot paint it all. Darn. I wanted to.  Instead I painted “Welcome to the Garden of the Gods”, and vowed to return some day to do it again.
Favorite quote:

Art is a collaboration between God and the artist, and the less the artist does the better.
(Andre Gide)

 

Winning When You Don't Expect To

Go To My Website

Socorro is a town that runs North/South along the I25 and Rio Grande corridor. It has the New Mexico School of Mines and is an old town in the state. Most people know it only by the fact that they run through it, getting gas and maybe stopping to pick up a few sundries.

This past weekend, many artists, (me and my friend Gay Scheibl included) converged on this lovely place, with the intent to paint for three days and compete in a plein air competition. There were artists whose name I had become familiar as I have been a member of PAPNM for a while now, never having been able to make a paintout for numerous reasons. I knew their work, not them. So this past weekend I got a chance to meet them and share experiences. What a blast. What lovely work they produced. Amazing stuff, all painted in the rain, or under threatening clouds, spiced only with the occasional break in the cloud cover and a sudden burst of sunlight. No wusses here! Those bursts were to die for. The sun had a brightness, when surrounded by the weather, that I cannot forget. I stared at those islands of light, committing them to memory and wanting to paint that dazzling color and light – not the ominous clouds.

Rushing water on the second day made the canyons not so safe, so Gay and I painted in the town center, in a lovely park, with old buildings. Some dated from the 1800s, with hand hewn log ceilings, herringbone brick floors that undulated as you walked over them, and gorgeous overhanging portals. Again, the light was dazzling, if fleeting. We had a tour from a beautiful lady named Marguerite, and got to know Socorro better than the scurrying tourists.

A Break in the Clouds
Oil on board 11x14
First Place Winner in the Three Day PAPM competition

 

I marveled at the variety in the pieces produced, and at those we painted in the quick draw on Saturday morning. It was my first quick draw event, and the first plein air competition I painted in, with the intent to compete. Pressure! I didn’t even think about it or never would have painted such a geometrically complex piece. I forced myself to paint buildings, something I never would have tried before the LaRock workshop last month. But I did get it done by the whistle blow! Waid Griffin won first in the quick draw. His piece was beautiful and felt wet.

"Box Canyon - A Moment of Light"
Painted during PAPNM - Socorro NM
11x14 Oil on Board

 

The three day paintout ended with a show at Vertu Gallery, an enchanting gallery, just off the town square. I showed 2 paintings, one a view of the color and light in the town square as the cloud cover broke, and one of Box Canyon, just up the 60, from Socorro. When the awards for the three day event were announced, I was absolutely shocked to have won first. It looked like I was on a different planet than the rest of the painters, mine was so bright. I am thankful and wonder what the judging committee put in their tea that morning, but I am not complaining!

My First Quick Draw - Socorro Abstract Building
8x20 Oil on Board

Thanks to all the other artists for their gracious acceptance of two unknown painters in their midst. PAPNM rocks!  And not least of all, thanks to Karyn and Dave Debont without whom it would never have taken place. Socorro County, the owners of Vertu Gallery - Prescott and Georgette, the Debonts and even the city groundskeepers  made us all feel really welcome. Thank you.

What the Heck is Plein Air Anyhow?

Go to my website

Keith Bond ran an article on FASO’s blog wondering what constitutes a plein air work. He said that there are several definitions, mostly referring what percentage of the work had been done in the field, and that each had some validity. He also said that many studio pieces when shown, are sometimes categorized as plein air. Really?

Well……here goes a can of worms…

I think (read in personal opinion here) that the minute you get more than fifty percent of the work executed in the studio, you now definitely have a STUDIO piece. To me, the percentage needed of ‘in field work’ to be a ‘plein air’ is much higher, more around 80% to 90%. Now before you find fault with this, understand that some exhibitions demand that the entire piece be completed on site for a piece to be a plein air. There are times when the underlying paint makes telephone lines, boat moorings, staircase railings and the like impossible to paint until the bottom layer has gone a bit tacky. Tacky, meaning sticky, not a condition of the quality of the painting itself. There are those pieces whose finishing flourishes need to be completed after the fact because the rain, snow, wind, hail (add your personal preference for natural disaster) has made finishing in the field an impossibility. This is understandable. I have shelved more pieces than I care to think about because I could not finish in the field. I am waiting for similarly lit days to complete the paintings. Now THAT is plein air. Being there in the flesh. Whether you are on a chair, under a canopy, sheltered by a car, transported by car, truck, cart, bicycle, horse or mule is immaterial. It means being there, on site, in the act of painting.

Early Morning Crystal Cove
6x8 Oil on board - Available

But if the percentage of the painting left incomplete is so high that it requires an equal or near equal amount of time in the studio to achieve completion, then rest assured it is NOT a plein air piece. Yes you may have started it in plein air, and perhaps it still retains some glimmer of the authenticity that plein air observation imparts, but it is not plein air. The smell of the flowers, the taste of rain on the way, the rising tide, the blow of the wind threatening to blow over your whole rig all lends a sense of reality to the work that the control of a studio, however comfortable, cannot furnish. Think of that Subaru commercial. That guy has it right regardless of what you think of his work.

Afternoon Crystal Cove
6x8 Oil on board - Available

And then there is the light. The crucial element. So you say you have good photos. Good for you. They are not enough. Your own eyes are so very much better at discerning the infinitesimal differences of value from lights to darks in a scene, that no typical camera, digital or otherwise, can compete. Unless you are bracketing a shot, you are diluting the darks into black, or blowing out the lights to white. I mentioned this to a painter who swears she is such an avid photographer, and she did not know what I was talking about. To expect painters to do this is an awfully unreal expectation from people who think their phones are too complex to operate. Yes you can paint from a photo. Will you get the same results? No.  Undeniably, NO.  You lose color in the shadows. You lose temperature shifts of color in the transitions. You lose the unique quality of the light itself.

So to Keith Bond, I say yes there is a point at which a piece can no longer be considered a plein air painting. It’s when it is not painted out of doors. Literal translation from the French: en plein air = in the open air, the outdoors. In other words, not within the confines, comfort and limitations of the studio.

I recently drove 700 miles to take a Greg LaRock workshop in Laguna CA. Yup. That far. And what did we do? We turned our backs on the water, one day, to paint the beachside cottages at Crystal Cove. I could hear the surf, taste salt, pour on the sunscreen, hear the gulls, and here I was, painting the buildings. Wow. I learned a lot. Greg is an unbelievably good painter and a wonderful teacher. He is well spoken, gets his point across and teaches with a natural gift. He teaches plein air. In the field. With the sound of the water crashing in your ears. Creating a feeling that is impossible to replicate in a building.

Favorite quote of the day:

When painting and sketching plein-air I sink into the landscape, and am attuned witness to its mood and beauty.                                                                                    (Dianne Bersea)

Doing the Ant Dance and Other Outdoor Activities

Go To My Website

Have you ever watched the froth of ants on the ground just prior to a thunderstorm? I never have before. They scurry back and forth in a literal boil of little ant bodies, frantic to get back to their burrows, bring their food with them and gather any needed supplies before they head back. Much like people making a run on bottled water, disposable diapers, hammer and nails, batteries and toilet paper before the next big one (fill in your own disaster) hits.

Well if I had only looked down, I WOULD have noticed. No. I waited until they were crawling up my leg and yes, they were biting. Darn. That hurt. I thought the view of the oncoming thunderstorm was too good to pass up. So I quickly parked the car, jumped out and set up. Right in the path of an army of ants hurrying back home, toilet paper, water and diapers firmly grasped in their little pincers. (I looked closely after the first few bites.)

Well I wasn’t ready to give up on the painting, and the oncoming clouds meant that I would not have the luxury of a second setup before the rain made my paint unworkable. So I grabbed the ant spray that I carry in the car, and sprayed the ground around my feet. A healthy couple of shots of OFF and a quick ant dance to shake off those I had missed and I got a chance to finish this small piece. My friend Barbara was laughing at me until I noticed that she was seated under a tree. In all fairness, when we started it was the only shady spot around. But it didn’t take long to change. And under a tree is not a safe place in a thunderstorm. Where do all the cattle go I wonder?

So sometimes when you go out to paint, it’s not the hunt for the esoteric. It’s the hunt for the ant spray and the laughter that the ant dance can bring.

Here is McComas Peak Storm.  An oil, at 8x10 it is available and because it is so small and unframed, it is a wonderful bargain. Email me, if you are interested.

Favorite quote of the day

There is in art the notion of less is more, which is to say, you don't torture a painting that has already confessed.                                                                (Robert Brault)

 

Tyrone Thunder

Go To My Website          

This week I painted a semi plein air, semi studio piece. It’s called Tyrone Thunder.

Now before anybody gets their tidy whiteys, in a knot because this is a plein air site, get over it! I am still getting over that dratted sinus and bronchial infection, and painting out in the rain does not figure in the recuperation scheme. I’d love to be out painting in it, and it is coming soon. But in all honesty, the weather here has been so very changeable, that you can be comfortable one minute and the intense, falling rain can be threatening to take the feet out from under you in the form of a gully washer in a heartbeat. We drove home yesterday from Las Cruces in one of the most intense storms I have ever been in. Even the semis brought their speed down to under 40 mph on the Interstate, the better to not run over someone they could not see, or to avoid hydroplaning off the road! I got pictures of water coursing through rivers and gullies that I have never seen water in! I am already dreaming about future paintings. And the mountains were being courted by a bevy of clouds caressing their inclines.

This piece is one that started as I was looking out my dining room window. The thunderstorms have been truly dramatic this monsoon season. They usually really get going in the late afternoon, or early evening, when the sun is starting to set. So the skies and the light can set up an unbelievable drama. I did push the pink in the sky for effect, but the darkness of the clouds, at that time can foretell the darkness of the oncoming night. No moon here lately, the clouds see to that.

"Tyrone Thunder"
20x20 oil - Available

Some paintings seem to paint themselves. This was one like that. The concept for it was so strong, looking out my dining room window at the mine, that I knew what where and how intuitively… I also knew immediately when it was done. I didn’t want to piddle it to death with detail it didn’t need. While painting, I reflected on how very much that mine has grown since we have moved here. You could barely see the Tyrone mine three years ago from our house. You had to hunt it down. I actually love the different colors that the overburden has in different light. This view beats the heck out of a fenced in Southern CA view as I look out my window.

Favorite quote of the day:

The artist that paints every tiny little detail is an artist with nothing better to do.                          (Sam Adoquei)

 

What To Do When It Is Ashing Outside

Go To My Website

The Gila Wilderness has been burning and owing to the draught of the mountains and prevailing winds, we have been inundated with thick ash, acrid smoke and noxious fumes for the past three weeks. My reaction? To get sick of course. 

Consequently, for the last three weeks, I have been in the process of getting better rather than getting out in it to paint. Besides who would want a New Mexico landscape with burnt orange to brown skies? Of course life goes on and we even sandwiched in a family reunion in East Texas over the fourth, the better to get away from our dirty skies and air. Even the prospect of driving across the widest parts of Texas was preferable to staying here and breathing that STUFF.

On the few days that I felt half way human (and they were few ), I stayed in the studio which is now air conditioned and somewhat filtered. What to do? I painted a small still life of some flowers in a copper bucket. It’s an 11x14, from life, en filtered air, not plein air.  To go out was self destructive for those three weeks, so I thought you might all understand. It was fun being able to keep a controlled environment for this piece. Kinda like playing the almighty being, not having to track the light as it willfully moved across the scene. This is Flowers in Copper Pot. Real inventive, my naming skills, wouldn’t you say?

Flowers In Copper Pot
oil 11x14



Rublev Chart No.1

I also took the time to do something I try to get all my painting friends to do. I made some color charts. I bought some new Rublev oil colors at the plein air convention, and they seemed far more subdued than my normal palette, and I had wondered at their range as tints. They were quite dark coming out of the tube and it was hard to tell what they would do as I added white. As I am looking for a new portrait palette, I was interested in what would result. So this is the straight tinting chart of the colors that I have bought. I have not tried to do a chart with mixes, though that is my future intention. Knowing a color’s tinting strength is really important when mixing.  Richard Schmid says that he continues to do color charts even at his stage of development as a painter. And hey, if he does them, maybe I should too! I do know that his book Alla Prima goes into some detail about doing the charts and their value if the exercise is not rushed. He even touts doing the charts in his DVDs.

I know that we are habitual animals and predictable color is a normal thing, but one to be guarded against. I know when I told an artist friend about my flowers in a copper pot, she recited her favorite color recipe for copper. It was certainly interesting to me to know that I had not used one of the colors she had cited! We tend to like certain mixes and rely upon them to the neglect of other colors. So when doing a chart, I ask myself “Is this a suitable replacement for a habitual color of mine?”.  It is definitely broadening as far as building color skills are concerned.

Favorite quote:

Most people think painting is a God-given talent. It Isn't. It is a product of hard work and intense mental effort and only those can succeed who have the capacity for work and the necessary intelligence.  

(Frank Benson)

Floater Frames

Go To My Website

It’s been very, very, hot here for a very long time. So I have been playing inside while the poor wild animals have to deal with the incessant sun and temperatures. We do not have air conditioning, having been told when we bought our house that it was not necessary this high up, at altitude 6300 plus. Somebody fibbed. And it wasn’t me.

So what painting has happened here has been in the studio, under cover from the sun and out of the triple digit temps. This has given me time to think about framing  and various types of framing. Normally I buy my plein air frames. But that gets really expensive when working on larger pieces.

I have been developing, with my hubby’s help, a simple floating frame that he can cut and I can finish. With framing prices what they are, I am opting for bought frames for only those pieces that I deem worthy. And since I rarely like anything I produce once the effort is over, I guess he’ll be building me some frames for a while.

I am just finishing a 24”x24” seascape from my studies and photos while I was in Monterey.  I liked the square format, and it promoted a composition that I might not have done in a conventional horizontal format. It’s quite large for me, since I usually work in at 11x14 ; a size for which I find frames easily, and comparatively less expensively.

Here are several shots of the WIP (work in progress).

Initial layout

Block In

Finished "Monterey Morning"

Floater frames are basically an L shaped frame into which one drops the finished artwork. One either glues or screws the artwork to this frame from behind. The type I am developing with hubby’s help has an extra ¼” border on the inside between the outer frame part and the artwork.  This edge makes it easier to center the artwork in the frame. I can also gold leaf it, or paint it black. That wee edge is a real nice touch. And truth be told, he loves having a project to use his new saw on. Plus he is a perfectionist. How lucky can a gal get?

The yellow is the picture on either board with glued square dowels attached or a stretched canvas.
The lower brown section is where one places the screw to attach the art to the frame.

 

It’s a lot of work ripping the wood to the desired specs, but he does a lovely job. And as long as I don’t ask him too often, the floater frame might just be the ticket. And a seascape was jut the thing to cool off mentally if not physically.

Favorite quote:

Painting is just like making an after-dinner speech. If you want to be remembered, say one thing and stop. To see things simply is the hardest thing in the world.                             (Charles W. Hawthorne)