Sun Salutation

Good morning world! I have had a lot of less than enjoyable distractions lately, but I am happy to report that I finally got back to the easel to finish this painting last week. This painting was inspired by the trip I took to Floyd County, Virginia this past fall for the Plein Air Crush event. I and my painting buddies woke up before dawn one morning to catch the sunrise from this scenic overlook. But it was so, so windy and bitterly cold, so we satisfied ourselves with a photo shoot instead. I've been spending a lot of time lately studying trees and their varied twists, turns and textures. It's mesmerizing to noticethe way the light alternately skips and lingers over their trunks and branches. Winter is a great time fortree studies, as they are bare limbed and there is no foliage to obscure them. In fact, I seem to recall reading that painter Emile Gruppe preferred the winter landscape, in part because of interest he found in the bare-limbed trees.

"Sun Salutation" Oil on linen, 24x30" ©Jennifer E Young

It has always struck me how trees seem to have their own personality. Sometimes lacy and delicate, sometimes massive and unwavering, their steady unmovable strength speaks to me.  Lately they seem to be whispering, "Slow down; be still." Mind you, this is great advice, but it's quite the opposite of my personality! Nevertheless, I am trying hard to listen.

To begin anew

Happy New Year! Yes, I know I'm about a week late with that, and it's even likely that hearing that phrase for the millionth time has the same effect as being presented with a fruitcake after (or even during) the holidays. But 2015 kind of went out for me with a crash and a bang ( health-wise) and a flare up of an old autoimmune condition as well as a possible fun new one too. So I'm kind of in reset mode, attempting to restore health through diet and lifestyle changes. It can all be a bit time consuming and maddening, especially thrown in on top of the usual mayhem of the holiday season. So, order to restore my sanity, and  since nobody seems to know what exactly is causing all of this mischief at the moment, welp, I might as well get back to painting! 

This is a work in progress, and the second version of this subject I started over the holidays.  I never posted the first because it didn't live up to what I had in my head. So far this second one is closer, but still so far away. I have had a lot of stops and starts, so that may be part of the problem. I actually hesitated to post this one too, as I'm not sure if I will finish it or just start on something else altogether. I will keep going further with it to see where I can take it, but sometimes it can get pretty frustrating when your insides don't quite match up with your outsides ( I guess life imitates art after all!) 

Some while back, there was a video floating around on YouTube that featured a short talk by Ira Glass, public radio host of "This American Life", about this anxiety and discomfort that can accompany the Creative Process. He summed it up so perfectly I will share it here, as this seems to be a recurrent theme in my own creative life.   

While Glass talks about these pitfalls as a beginner problem, I am here to tell you that it is something most creatives contend with periodically even if they've been at it a while. While what he says feels somewhat comforting, at times it can also feel like a curse. But deep down I know that I've been blessed by what art has given me, and that often the expansion of growth doesn't happen without some pain of contraction. It's just you can't stay there. As Glass says, the antidote is to fight your way through, make the art, and make a lot of it. In art as in life, there is ebb and flow, ebb and flow. And if we can weather the storms, there is the chance to begin anew.

Two James River minis before Turkey Day

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! In a couple of hours I'll be cooking up a storm, but first,  I'm sharing two little mini paintings of the James River.  "The Rivah" as it's known to many locals, is one of my favorite places to paint, or just to sit and meditate. It reveals different features at different access points  as it cuts its path through our fair city and beyond. Sometimes it is completely natural with narrow paths covered by tree roots. At other points it is fairly manicured. In either case there is a sense of the wild and untamed, and her rapids rage in spite of our civilized urban sidewalks and towering facades. 

"Lee Bridge", ©Jennifer Young. Oil on board, 6x8" (SOLD) 

The above painting features one of the many little "islands" you will find along this urban stretch of the James. In the background the Lee Bridge looms. Suspended below is the pedestrian footbridge that leads from Tredegar street over to Belle Isle. It is a most dramatic walk on a windy day, but the view is unbeatable. 

"The Falls at Belle Isle", ©Jennifer Young. Oil on board, 6x8" $395.00 (framed)

This view is the reward that awaits after traversing the suspended footbridge. From my safe perch on the bank of rocks, I often enjoy watching the kayakers making their way across the rapids, as well as  many waterfowl, including blue herons. You'd never know that you were right in the middle of a mid-sized city. It is one of the truly great things about living in the Richmond area, and on the eve of Thanksgiving, in addition, to family, friends, and good food, I am feeling grateful to live here. 

Small but sweet; Ashland, VA

I sometimes feel that painting really small can be just as challenging as painting really large. Because of the level of detail, this little piece has a slightly tighter handling than the one I posted last week. There was a time or two during my process where I questioned whether I should see this through, but I am glad now that I stuck with it. This painting features the former train station for RF&P Railroad in my home town, Ashland, VA.

"Autumn in Ashland," Oil on panel, 6x6"

While it's an iconic view of the town, it is also meaningful to me for another reason. I gaze upon this approximate view on a regular basis, because my temporary studio happens to be located very near by.  Ashland is a small southern town that grew up around the railroad, so it has a pretty interesting history. In fact, while there is no longer a ticket counter at this location, the footprint of the interior has hasn't changed all that much, so it isn't hard to take a step back in time and imagine what things must have been like when rail was all the rage. Today, while the building now serves as the town's Visitor's Center, this train route on Railroad Ave. still sees a lot of action, and the location serves as a train stop for Amtrak commuters,  both north and south.

In Autumn Light

'Tis the season for small paintings! This time of year, galleries promote their artists with small works shows for the holidays. There is a good reason for this. Small paintings are a nice way to start an original art collection or offer a unique and thoughtful gift without breaking the bank. With that in mind, here is a little 6x6" painting in water miscible oils of a quaint little street in my home town.

"In Autumn Light", Oil on Board, 6x6" ©Jennifer Young

This is a well known Episcopal church on Virginia Street in Ashland. I experimented with a lot of different angles, but they all seemed a little too much like "look at this church!"  and not enough like "look at this sweet painting".  Finally I found a composition I really loved. I wanted this to have both a sense of place and a sense of the lovely light of autumn. The leaves have been falling off in droves from all of the rain we've had. But at its peak, this humble little street displayed its foliage like a proud peacock, and I am really glad to have captured it. 

I took a couple of progress shots to record the architecture (har har) of the painting. They were a very few, both because this is such a tiny piece, and  because I forgot to photograph the first step, which was the monotone value sketch (done in my usual manner).  While it lacks the nuance of a larger, more developed painting, the process below shows my general approach to building a painting regardless of the size. In some ways, the simplicity of the piece helps to demonstrate the importance of creating a strong structure right from the start. 

Post- tonal sketch, I begin mapping out my shadow patterns. The darks act as the "bones" that hold the painting together. Even at this stage you can get a very good idea of the strength or the weakness of your painting. Are those values spotty? Disconnected? Or do they lead the eye in and around the painting to the focal point?

What is it about the light family that makes us want to jump right in and start painting it? What representational artist has not said, "It's all about the light"? But here's the kicker. The light doesn't hold up unless you have the shadow to support it. Shadows first give the painting its form, then that gorgeous light can follow.

At one time I painted a lot of "minis" (6x8" and under)  both en plein air and in the studio. They sold well, but I got really burnt out after a while and longed for more opportunity to massage my ideas into something more fully developed, more refined. But now, upon request, I am revisiting the concept of the "small stuff" for its own sake. I have to say, there is something to be said for the simple statement. It lends itself so well to  the direct approach, and there is a freshness to it that says, while perhaps not everything, sometimes just enough.