Studio building updates; plus a sale

Well, it looks like the moving schedule madness is now taking hold, so I make no promises of posting many new paintings over the next several days. I have a lot of work ahead of me and a lot of decisions to make as I move out of my current studio space. The new studio will be less than half the size of my current one. This isn't a complaint, mind you (after all the space will be my very own.) But I will have to make the most of the space I have. So in between the packing, I'm prepping for a Studio Moving Sale this coming Friday and Saturday at the gallery.  I'm being pretty ruthless about what I'm allowing myself to hold onto (believe me, no easy task but it must be done.) As a result I'll be offering some great sale prices on selected works from my inventory (mostly older landscapes and plein air studies); plus sale prices on prints,  some picture frames (new, used, and 'scratch and dent') and a few art supplies. If you're in the vicinity come on by and check out the sale. 

As for our garage/studio building project, rainy weather has slowed our progress a little, but progress is still being made. As I write this, the plumber is making a racket outside the door, trying to get things lined up for the first of several plumbing inspections. I don't have a lot of new "progress" shots to show, but the foundation guys have built the forms (currently protected from the rain by a big tarp.) So once the plumbing passes inspection #1, they can set about pouring the concrete. 

Meanwhile here are some pictures of the plans that have been drawn up by the builder:

Side elevation:

 I actually think of this as the front, but the builder calls it the side elevation. It's the long part of the building, facing out to our side street. The left end has a little portico/porch that faces the back of the house. At some point I'd like to have a little courtyard patio join the two structures of the house and studio. This side faces roughly east, so I only have windows on the left part. The painting area will be on the right, and I'll probably put some kind of trellis or other tall feature on the exterior to balance the windows at the other end.

Left end elevation:

This is the end with the portico that faces the house. Probably this will be the main door I use to come in and out, though the French doors shown above will be good for loading/unloading from the nearby alley. The portico allows for a loft area on the inside above my office for storage, so that upper window over the porch is just for looks and light.

Floorplan:

This image is a bit hard to read, but here I've overlaid my proposed "room" plan (the furniture/interior wall) on top of the builder's drawing so that I could see how much of my crap I could cram in there ;-)  . Since I seem to have a 2-D brain, it's really hard for me to imagine the actual space until I'm in there. So aside from the painting area (and utility sink) being on the right side and my office being to the left, the particulars of the furniture arrangements may change. Therefore, we've opted not to have the builder install the interior wall. If I find I can fit a wallor room divider (and right now I think I'd really like to have more wall space) we would have to come up with an after-the-fact solution, space and budget allowing. Not shown (but planned) are ceiling fans--one on each end of the building. We're addressing the other considerations (hvac, insulation, drywall, lighting, picture rails, flooring, etc.) in due time, though right now we're just focusing on getting the structure up and the roof on.

Right end elevation (interior view):

This shows the interior wall on the right end of the building. This is my studio side and the wall faces roughly north. But there is an another building just across an alley on this side, so I have high windows here. They will let in some light, though unfortunately the neighboring building will block it somewhat. I wanted fancy shaped arched or triangular architectural windows here....until I saw the price. So we quickly opted for more standard windows. They all open, and the two smaller windows are awning windows.

The builder we've been working is a company called Bradley Buildings out of the Atlanta area. They've been great to work with so far, and very patient-- especially since this is the one zillionth version of these drawings they've come up with. We started out with something very different, but changes were made based on our lot restrictions. I also made a decision even after that point to further reduce the overall size so that the structure would be more in proportion to our house and lot.

Well, enough of this building stuff. Guess I'm pretty excited about all of this, but it may be a little too much information for a painting blog. It's time to get back to packing any way.

On painting that ever changing light

This post is inspired by a comment Molly left for me yesterday on the challenge of painting sunsets en plein air. As I've noted before, this golden hour of the day is my favorite time to be out painting-- but it's also one of the most challenging because the light changes incredibly fast. Since I've made my share of stinkers (and had a few successes too) I thought I'd offer a few tips from what I've observed along the way.

• At first, try keeping it small! This will ensure that you can cover the entire canvas within the time limitations you have.
• Broadly tackle first the overall light and shadow pattern and don't give into the temptation to lose yourself in details in the early stages.
• For as long as you can, try thinking in terms of light and dark, shapes and patterns instead of objects and things.
• Simplify.
• Squint.
• Develop what you know is going to change the fastest. In the recent harbor paintings I did in Annapolis, those clouds were such an important element in the paintings and I knew they'd change quickly as the sun was breaking through them across the sky. So I set about developing the sky and clouds first, even though I'd merely blocked in the dark shape of the boats.
• Make a commitment. Try not to change your entire painting with each change of the sky (or light). This will drive you crazy and it will quickly start to causeyour painting to look confused. At some point you have to decide on the statement you want to make with your painting and commit to it. Learn to develop those memory muscles so that when the light changes you can recall the moment you were trying to capture. This is why blocking in the overall light and shadow pattern is so very important at the beginning.
• At the same time (and this is going to sound like a contradiction to the previous statement,) if you want to capture that elusive golden moment you almost have to try and anticipate what's going to happen next and be ready for it. The best way to do this is to observe, observe, observe. Paint at different times of the day often enough and you will really begin to notice and observe what happens to the quality of the light. I find myself doing this mentally now, even when I'm not painting.
• Color is seductive, and it's understandable to want to change and tweak it as the sky gets more and more beautiful with that rosy/golden evening glow. Sometimes it is necessary to add that flourish of color at just the right momentin your process to get the feeling you want. If you feel you really must change the color, I'd first try changing the color without changing the value.   Those sunset colors can be pretty intense. Too much white will kill the intensity. Too much change can shift the value (and/or color temperature) to the point that it throws off your whole design. It really is a dance.
• Don't be stingy with your paint. Many don't put enough paint out on their palette, and/or mix smaller piles of color than they'll really need. While I usually keep my shadow areas relatively thin, I can really load it on in the highlight areas.
• Be grateful for the stinkers. (I am still working on this one.) Nowadays, while I still indulge in a brief tantrum, I am more and more appreciating the duds, and how well they teach me. Each one gives fuel to the fire and helps to inform a future masterpiece :-)
• Time is of the essence, but remember, this is a process of both measured intent and spontaneous response. These two approaches may seem to be at odds, but really they can work in tandem. For me, they are easiest to apply if I can relax, have fun, and enjoy the moment.

There's a hole in my life

Or rather, there's one heck of a hole in our yard. I've come back home from my painting trip to find that they've started digging for the new studio! Let the games begin :-)

The red dots in the photo below roughly indicate the footprint of the studio, which will be a 16x28' structure. You might be able to make out another small light colored dot just beyond the lower right red dot. This is a stake for a 4' deep portico that will run the depth of the building and come off of one end to face the house and future patio.

There is an alley that sits just beyond our fence. This end of the hole is where my painting area will be. The trench in the foreground is for the plumbing, and (I believe), the electric too. Inspections have to take place at each stage along the way during this process.

The back half of our fence had to come down to let that big digger in. This is the fence that's still standing. Below the fence are all the flower pots I moved that were sitting around our back porch. Dave said he  didn't think we'd have to move them, but I did it "just in case". Good thing! Good too, that I hadn't yet done any landscaping in our back yard!

Will post again soon with a drawing of mine that shows what I've come up with for the layout.

Dueling Brushes

After having what I felt to be a successful morning on my 2nd day in Annapolis, it was my expectation to have as wonderful an afternoon. NOT! There are times when I have to push myself to paint, even if I don't feel like it. This is usually a good idea, but not always. Sometimes giving yourself a chance to "recharge" is the best thing you can possibly do for your work, and this was one of those times. Once I finished "Daybreak", I decided to take a "lunch break" and get out of the midday sun to check out some of the local Annapolis galleries. My plan was then to find some charming street corner where I might set up in town. There was plenty of material to choose from, to be sure. So even though I was pretty tired, I set up in a quiet spot to paint a pretty B&B surrounded by flowers. 

The thing that attracted me to the spotthough, was the pattern of the light, which was steady and strong in constrast and formed an interesting pattern of interconnecting diagonals....At least when I first started. But soon a heavy cloud cover set in.....and lifted....and set in again. By the time the clouds had cleared for good, the pattern of light had completely changed and I finally found myself scrapping the whole painting in frustration.

By the time I had gotten back to the hotel, it was late and I was even more tired. I had actually scheduled myself to compete in a little quick-draw competition called "Dueling Brushes", on the next (and final) morning. But before I went to bed, I called my husband and told him I was considering skipping the event and just coming on home. "Come home if that's what you want," he said, "Nobody's making you do this."

He was right, of course. But I guess the night's rest was restorative, because the next morning I figured, what the heck? I'd go ahead with it. After all, I'd registered for the event, I was in town, and I'd spent a couple of days painting this subject matter so at least I'd had a little preparation. Plus I'd already been through the "agony of defeat" and I was still standing ;-)

The event rules stated that we all had two hours to create a finished painting, after which time we were to scurry our paintings and easels over to the judging area. The judge would then award cash prizes and we'd have a little exhibition in the public square.

To make things easy on myself I decided to set up to paint the open harbor that was pretty close to the judging area. There were surely other interesting spots in town I could have scouted out, but I just couldn't see myself running through town like a maniac with my easel trying to make it in time for the judging.  

From the position I chose along the open harbor, the boats in the scene were pretty far out into the middle ground. It was looking like I might be stuck with a rather placid composition on an overcast day with no foreground interest. But the clock had started andthere were some subtle shimmering light patterns on the water that I thought maybe I could make something out of.  So I settled on a design in my head, set up all of my gear, and began my composition--just in time for a huge tourist boat to pull up and park right in front of my view. ARRRRGH!

I moved all of my gear as quickly as I could to a nearby spot. The view was a little different, but I recovered fairly quickly with a revised plan and got to work. Then I lucked out. What started out as an overcast morning with flat light soon began to give way to breaking clouds backlit by the morning sun.  I had found my interest (and actually, the sky I had painted on the previous morning served me well in this moment.) I quickly changed my plan again and lowered the horizon--this was going to be a painting about the sky.  

"Changing Sky" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 8x12"

To my surprise and delight, I really began to have fun. And when it came time for the judging, I was surprised and delighted again. The painting received "Honorable Mention," which seemed a pretty good accomplishment for a newcomer to these events, especially considering I was thinking about skipping the whole thing!

Annapolis Day 2- A fine morning with guidance from Gruppe

Had a few technical difficulties to overcome before I could post again, but I'm picking up where I last left off writing about the Annapolis paint out. Day two of the paint-out started off great, mainly because I had been able to do a little planning the day before. Painting in an unfamiliar place can always be a little overwhelming. It takes a little bit of time to get your bearings and find locations that appeal to you. This task can also be a little more daunting if you are also painting unfamiliar subject matter. (In my case, not living near a harbor or having much boating experience,  that subject matter would be the preponderance of boats.) To tackle the first obstacle, I spent some time on the first day (in between my morning and afternoon paintings) just wandering around scouting out possible painting locations along the many small harbors. One thing to consider is the path the sun will take across the sky throughout the day from sunrise to sunset. Having already done one morning painting the first day, I began to get a feel for which locations would make good morning setups and which would work better for me in the evenings. (I will also sometimes carry a compass with me to accomplish this task.)  As a result, I found a location in Eastport that I knew would be perfect for an early morning sunrise scene. And in contrast to the first morning when I got started late, I was able to arrive early on day 2 and start painting between 7 and 7:30 a.m.

As for the second obstacle.... the first thing I had to do was to recognize that no matter what I am painting, all I really need to do is paint shapes and the play of light on forms. If you can accurately see what is in front of you as abstract shapes and light patterns (and get a good grasp especially on painting the shapes of the negative space between the forms as well,) form naturally happens. Having said that, the mind plays tricks on the untrained eye--even sometimes on the eye that has had a bit of training. Boats (like trees and the human face) are some of the things that the mind has long tended to see as symbols. They're some of the things that so many of us drew when we were kids --a sort of half-circle topped with two triangles. So one can easily fall into the trap of painting a symbol of a boat (or a tree or a face) instead of painting the actual shape.

While intellectually I know that all of the above is true, for my own peace of mind, I found it also helpful to consult one of my favorite art books of all time by Emile A. Gruppe. Gruppe was a fine New England painter of landscapes, townscapes and most notably to me, marinescapes . He was active in the 30's on up until the 70's and received training at the Art Students League in New York, and from famed American landscape painters Charles Hawthorne and John F. Carlson. Gruppe was also a wonderful teacher in his own right, both through the school that he established, and through his series of books on painting ("Brushwork," "Gruppe on Color" and "Gruppe on Painting; Direct Techniques in Oil" ). 

All three of these books are fabulous. They are also out of print, making the ones that are still available quite pricey and difficult to acquire. I haven't written much about these books before because there is just sooo much I would want to to say. I can't give proper honor to each of them now without making this post even longer than it already is, but suffice it to say that despite the cost and the regardless of sad quality of the painting reproductions within, they are three incredibly worthwhile and inspiring (if not essential) additions to any landscape painter's library.

For my money, Gruppe was a master of brushwork and composition. Living in New England, he was also a frequent painter of harbors and coastal scenes, which made his book, "Gruppe on Painting; Direct Techniques in Oil," a perfect traveling companion on my trip to Annapolis. I'm glad I grabbed it as I was walking out the door, especially since this particular book has a whole section on painting harbor scenes.  This is not a book of formulas, but rather a thoughtful book with a wealth of things to consider. For instance, here is an excerpt on drawing boats:

"...students havepreconceptions about what a boat should look like. They think of boats they drew as children, boats that were shaped like wooden shoes or bananas, curling up at the bow and stern. And that's how they draw them. But probably no shape could be less like that of a real ocean-going dragger; all those concave lines suggest weakness while the character of the dragger is strong and tough......Remember that the gunwhale of the boat is straight as it nears the bow--it doesn't sweep up like a gondola! And the bow goes into the water in a fairly straight line--it doesn't cut under sharply. Use strong lines to suggest a strong subject."

Just that one snippet helped me immensely, and yet there is so much more in this section alone; on cast shadows, masts, rigging, refraction, smaller boats, and docks and wharves. The conversational tone and the passion in Gruppe's writing helped me to internalize his teachings and carry them with me as I addressed the subjects and painted them from life. Here, finally, is the painting that resulted. I may need to touch it up when I return to the studio, but I was pretty happy about it overall:

"Daybreak in Annapolis Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 11x14" (SOLD) ©Jennifer Young

On this second day of painting, I was happy to meet more of the artist members of the MAPAPA, so I felt a little more connected and a little less lost. In fact, as I was finishing up the above piece, an artist came up to me with a rather dazed and confused look. She said it was her first day at the paint-out, and she'd been driving around for an hour trying to decide what to paint. I had to chuckle (not at her, but with her.) Been there, done that!