Landscape painting of Lake Como, Italy

 

"Morning Quiet in Pescallo" Oil on Canvas, 20" x 24"

Fresh off the easel is the painting I blogged about a bit earlier. It shows a view from Bellagio looking down on the tiny fishing village of Pescallo.  This was our morning view from our hotel room balcony. What a way to wake up!

For more information, please click on the image or contact me.

New painting details uploaded to the website

It took me a while but I finally got around to uploading some of the plein air paintings I've blogged about in recent months:

   

Details and purchasing info for these smaller paintings  of the Eastern Shore of Maryland are in my gallery of Mini Paintings, as is the recent little autumn scene. In another section of my website, I've uploaded these two Eastern Shore plein air paintings in my gallery of water-related scenes: 

 

 And finally, I mentioned yesterday that I was considering doing a touch more to the little lavender watercolor. Well, I didn't do much but I couldn't resist a tweak, and you can see the final image in the Vignettes section of my website. As with my other Vignettes, this one  may be purchased online  via Paypal. Update: This painting has sold!

Now that I'm getting caught up, I have some new work to upload...stay tuned!

On the Easel- Lake Como Painting

 I thought I'd share a new painting I have up on the easel:

 

 Not sure how much more I'll get done today because I'm getting the studio ready for the First Fridays art walk tonight. If you come out to the gallery on the art walk tonight you'll probably see it on the easel in all it's unfinished glory (along with a number of other paintings that are actually finished and framed :-) .)

 This scene is an aerial view of the little fishing village Pescallo in Lake Como, Italy. It was my view every morning from the balcony of our hotel room in Bellagio (*sigh*). What I'm painting is the village rooftops and  the placid lake with docked boats in early morning. I hope it turns out, because I really loved that scene.

All of this work I've done for the "Luminosity" show, has really helped to get me into painting water scenes. For the longest time I had a fear of water-- not "real" water, just water as subject for my paintings. I don't know why. I guess it was just a mental block or something. So this past summer, I made a point to "just do it" and I really tried to focus on water scenes, especially when I went out painting en plein air.

On another note, I'd like to send a shout of thanks out to artist Boyd Greene for giving me a nod of recognition yesterday on his own fine art blog. I just discovered that I was among the artists he honored with a "Shibumi" award. According to Boyd;

 The ’shibumi’ award was originally created by Hawk and has a deep and profound meaning: ‘Shibumi is a Japanese term which used in the following context is a noun. Its meaning refers to a ‘particular aesthetic of simple, subtle, and unobtrusive beauty� which can be applied to almost anything.’

Thank you Boyd! I truly feel grateful and honored by my fellow artist bloggers this week. :-)

One more sunset painting; Day's End, Hatteras

This painting was inspired by the recent trip I took to Cape Hatteras, located on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The first day we arrived at our cottage, it was quite overcast and gray.  After a 4 1/2 hour drive, we were a little disappointed, but we remained hopeful that the weather forcast would prove to be true and that a clearing would take place by nightfall. I'm happy to say that our hopes were realized. At dusk while we were preparing dinner, one of my friends called out to me, "Come look at this amazing sky!"  I ran out to the balcony to see a procession of dark billowing clouds parading across a magnificent sky that seemed to be painted with sweeping strokes of brilliant color. As we stood gazing at the spectacular view towards the sound, I noted how the backlit beach houses anchored the scene with their simple dark shapes. Here is my rendition of that evening scene:

"Day's End, Hatteras" Oil on Canvas, 24"x30" Click here or on the picture for more info!

Guest posting today

Today I'm posting about my Outer Banks paintings as a guest blogger over at the Queen of the Surf Pirates Blog. It's a fun and informative blog with the latest Outer Banks surfing info, beach news and more, courtesy of Paula Degatto and Sammy the Surf Dog from Nags Head in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Check it out, and thanks Paula for the invitation!

New coastal sunset landscape painting; "Finale"

Fresh off the easel, this painting is of a spectacular sunset we saw on one of our trips to the Outer Banks of North Carolina this summer. It's Silver Lake Harbor on Ocracoke Island, to be exact. This painting and other recent landscapes will be included in my upcoming show called "Luminosity".

"Finale" Oil on Canvas, 24x36"

I'm calling this piece "Finale" (as in "the grand finale") because, like a finale in a live orchestral performance, sunsets are like nature's final performance of the day. They never fail to dazzle, and yet no two performances are ever exactly the same.

Expression through movement in landscape painting

Recently I gave an interview to a very bright young lady from the UK who was studying my work for an A Levels school project. Here is one of her questions, and the response she inspired: "I really admire your style of brushwork in your images, especially in  "The Cypress House", where your strokes around the top of the trees and in the grass make me feel as though the painting is moving. I really like this and wondered why you choose to use this technique in your work?" -ST

Dear S.T.,

That is a wonderful observation and a great compliment. Thank you! I paint the landscape for several reasons, but mainly because it evokes in me a strong positive emotional response. So when I'm painting,  I try to convey the emotional energy I feel from the subjects I paint. There are many ways to express this emotional impact--through use of line and color choices, through composition, and yes, through brushwork (movement), to name a few.

There is movement all around us in nature if one will sit still long enough to observe it. A perfect way to practice this is to go down to the ocean shore and sit on the beach. Just sit and see how much life is moving and teeming all around you that we often are too busy to even notice.

Last week when I vacationed at the beach, I did this very thing. I noted the hundreds upon hundreds of  tiny crabs popping in and out of holes in the sand. I saw thin veils of sand blowing in the wind and subtly changing the shape of the shoreline. Small schools of fish zipped past my feet as I waded in the water. And if I really wanted to watch the world change before my eyes all I'd have to do is watch the sun rise and set. Thousands of miracles take place before our eyes every day if we take the time to notice.

In my paintings, I don't even attempt to compete with the miracles of nature. But I do try to celebrate them in my own small way. The use of movement in my work is one of the ways I capture these fleeting moments. On a more mundane, formal level I also am aware that showing movement through brushwork and through the composition is a way add interest to a painting and move the viewer's eye around the work of art. Thanks for your questions and good luck with your project!

Back from Hatteras & a plein air sunrise

I'm baaaaack. Everything about my Cape Hatteras vacation was perfect (weather, house, food, beach). And for the first time in a long time I took a true vacation, where lounging was required and painting was optional. Even when you do something you love for work, you still need to recharge. All work and no play make for less good work overall, in my opinion. HOWEVER....the sunrises were spectacular and I couldn't resist making at least one attempt at caputuring it en plein air. Here it is:

Hatteras Sunrise Oil on cavas, 6x8"

For more information, please contact me.

Plein air painting tips

The other day Misti posed a few really good questions in my comments section about plein air painting. So I thought I'd share her questions and expand on my response below.

 "I have been wanting to do some plein air work but am sort of afraid of diving in. I think it is the whole finished product I am afraid of as well as the time. How long do you spend working on a painting and what do you do with light changes? or do you choose a specific time when you will have the most time?Thanks!"

Thanks for your comment. As I said in my previous response, I can really empathize with your concerns. It's common to want to feel a sense of accomplishment when you put forth such effort. When I first started painting en plein air, a lot of my studies went straight from easel to the trash heap! It can take some time to really develop a process that works well enough to capture that fleeting light and elusive feeling that inspired you to paint it in the first place.

A few thoughts and suggestions:

• To battle with that ever-changing light, it helps if you make a decision about the light you want to paint, and commit to that even if the light changes and the clouds roll in. This is very challenging, as you have to get your main color and shadow notes down pretty quickly to commit to that idea.
• Due to its rectangular format, a  photograph will already provide a composition for your painting. When you're painting on location it can be a little overwhelming because the scene before you is so expansive and it can be difficult to translate all of that 3-D information onto a small rectangular 2 dimensional plane. 
• To help with this, it is a very good idea to do a little planning even before you start your painting. I like to bring a small sketchbook with me and make some very quick thumbnail pencil sketches before I commit to a particular composition. In this way I can determine where to place my center of interest and how to frame my scene. 
• In regards to "how long," two hours has been the maximum amount of time that I've been able to paint at one sitting on location, and even then that can be pushing it. Any longer and the light has changed too drastically and it just causes you confusion. Better to come back to the scene at the same time again the next day and finish up.
• If a return visit on a subsequent day isn't possible, another option is to take a photo when you start and when you end and use these references to make a few finishing touches to your painting. The danger here is that once you get back to the studio you can lose the information and freshness you've captured on location if you overwork it too much away from the source.
• A better option may be to work small. This is particularly true if you are just beginning to paint on location. Working on small canvases allows you to more easily cover your canvas in the limited time frame. You may feel less overwhelmed and less worried about possible "failure" (though in reality, any time spent learning is never a failure, regardless of the finished product!)
• As for the time of day, mornings and evenings offer the most interesting light and shadow. By noon all of the light is pretty flat and shadows have disappeared, so this is least appealing to me. I find the mornings a little easier than the evenings, simply because the light doesn't change quite so quickly. However, there is nothing so seductive as that beautiful golden evening light. And if you really want to do some turbo-charged painting, try painting a sunset!
• Most importantly, go about it with an open mind and with no expectations other than that you are showing up to learn and to experience. With persistence your studies will get stronger, and the benefit you have gained from the experience will pay off big time for you in your studio work as well. At least, that is what I have found in my own work.

And with those thoughts on plein air painting, I am off for a week to do a little of my own. We're off to the beach and I'd be surprised if blogging will be an option. Have a great Labor Day Weekend everyone and I'll be back to posting when I return!

Painting is a response (so move the $%#! tree).

I was talking to a non-painter about painting recently and she said, "The kind of art I like is imaginative. I don't care much for a copy of a photograph or a copy of a scene even in life. It's far more interesting to me to see a painting that came from the artist's head." Well, I couldn't agree more. But I hate to break it to her; all art comes from the "artist's head." The artist is painting in response to something, whether it be a concept or idea, a story, or an observation. Even in landscape painting (or any kind of painting even remotely related to realism) I think that true artistry occurs when the artist is not copying, but painting her response to a subject, and is fully able to communicate that response in a way that is original and distills the subject to its essence.

The reasons behind my choice of subjects vary. Sometimes it is the sheer beauty of a place that triggers an emotional response. Sometimes the scene evokes a memory. Sometimes it is the light. Sometimes I respond to something as simple as lines and planes. But it is all about my response or my interpretation.

Copying a scene so that it looks like a photo, or even looks like the view in front of me in the open air, is not nearly as important to me as expressing my response to the subject. As I heard artist Kenn Backhaus say once, "I'm not interested in making historical paintings." Backhaus paints en plein air, but he also uses many different combinations of his own photos at times to inform his studio paintings. He uses these resources in order to express his unique vision, frequently with masterful results.

I work in a similar manner (but still working on the mastery part.) ;-) Sometimes one scene says it all. Other times I may combine several different elements from varying photos and studies to relay the idea or feeling about a place or experience. Even in realism, the subject matter is the jumping off point. It is subordinate to the idea --just one vehicle for the greater goal of artistic expression.

Painting on location is important for the simple reason that there is more to respond to in life than in a photo. But even painting en plein air, artists can fall into the trap of subordinating their art for the sake of historical accuracy. I was out painting with a fellow artist once and we set up in different locations to paint the same scene. I took a break from my work and inquired about my friend's progress. "It's going okay," he said. "But I wish that tree was in a different place." "Then for heaven's sake," I said. "You're an artist! Move the $%#!  tree."

Painting successfully from photos offers its own set of challenges, because you are responding to a frozen moment in time. That is not how the eyes see and not how we respond in life. In addition to painting en plein air, I do work from photos. But they are my own photos, usually taken from travels where I have made a point to also do some painting or sketching (accompanied usually by long spans of sitting and sighing and blissfully observing) on location. So even working from my photos, it is always about my experience, except that I am also having to rely more on memory than from life in the moment.

As an artist I've worked using many different approaches. Sometimes it all does come "from my head", and at other times I use nature as my inspiration. There are times when I am so seduced by a scene that I find it perfect, and I try to capture it just as I see it. But even then, I try to keep in mind my ultimate goal to make a strong painting that communicates my unique response. I may not always find success, but it's something to move towards. And if a tree gets in my way, I have no qualms about moving the $%#! tree.

Plein air painting; St. Michaels Boat House

I'm back in the studio now and assessing the work I did last week on location in Easton Maryland. In some cases I will clean up these pieces up or make some other adjustments, but first I will just prop them up in my studio and study them for a while. This is a little 8x10" study I did at the Maritime Museum in St. Michaels. This was done in the morning, on the same day as the afternoon painting of the "Delaware" tugboat I mentioned in an earlier post.

Plein air painting; Top 10 things I love

Here is a follow up to my previous top 10 list about painting on location. You will notice that some of the things that I cited as pains in the tuccus are also some of the very things I love. And there is a lot more to love than what I've written below! 

1. The challenge of racing against time to capture the ever changing light. 
2. Appreciating the beauty of the natural world firsthand.
3. Being outside to witness the special quality of light that comes early in the morning (before breakfast) and just before sunset (around dinner time).
4. Getting lost in the experience (this happens for me in the studio, but not as intensely as it does when I'm painting on location. I lose all track of time and am able to be in hyperfocus.)
5. Those ah-ha paintings-- When everything about the painting experience gels and you've said everything you wanted to say with an economy of brushstroke and a real understanding of the light (makes all those other half-finished plein air studies worthwhile!)
6. Connecting with so many kind and interesting people from all over the world.
7. Using all of your senses to create--seeing so much more color and information in nature than it is ever possible to see in photographs.
8. The challenge of editing out some of that color and information to make a cohesive and well composed painting.
9. Painting along with other artists and seeing how differently they interpret the same scene.
10. Those moments of quiet solitude, but not really feeling "alone" because you are a part of it all!

Plein air painting; View Across the Harbor, Oxford, Maryland

I don't normally paint views of such great distance, but this was a lively little harbor scene and so representative of the little town of Oxford on Maryland's Eastern Shore; charming, quaint, small and picturesque. This was painted mid morning (started around 9:30) on location. I found one tree to shade me, while I used my umbrella to shade my painting and my palette. Of course I still managed to get sunburn!  This painting is 9x12" and is oil on canvas.

 

Here I am using the same limited palette of 6 colors plus white that I have used all week, which is incidentally the same palette that the talented plein air painter and instructor Kenn Backhaus recommends. How he manages to get such seductive color with so few pigments still eludes me, but I am determined to figure it out!

Plein air painting; Top 10 things that are a pain in the tuccus

Since I've been doing quite a bit of painting on location this summer, I thought I'd share some of my thoughts about the experience of plein air painting. I'll deal with the less desirable aspects first, and then follow up with what I love: 

1. Bugs of all kinds (ticks, mosquitoes, bees, etc.). I'm not the world's bravest outdoorsy type and I hate the creepy crawlies.
2. Sunburn! There is no way to avoid the sun. Be prepared and deal with it.
3. Being covered in goo (otherwise known as bug spray and sunscreen) due to list items 1 and 2.
4. Finding a location with lots of lovely shady spots, but the amazing scene that you are passionately in love with is only visible when standing in the blazing sun.
5. Forgetting to pack one essential thing (and I ALWAYS seem to forget to pack one essential thing!)
6. Having to lug around a bunch of heavy art supplies and equipment (no matter how much I try to pare down, it is still too much stuff!)
7. Getting out before breakfast time and staying out beyond dinner time because that's when the best light is. (Okay, my days revolve around my meals. Note; those are TWO meals I'm missing! )
8. Getting in the groove while the light is excellent, only to encounter a passer-by who feels like a nice, long chat.
9. Enduring the elements (sun, wind, rain, heat, cold, ever-changing light, etc.), all the while hoping to create something brilliant.
10.  Spending 2 to 3 hours painting and ending up with something that's nowhere near "brilliant"!

Lest you are thinking, "Stop your complaining. If you don't like it, stay inside!", stay tuned for the top 10 things to love about plein air painting and see why I put up with it and am becoming more and more obsessed with it. You may be surprised to find some overlap ;-)

The Delaware; plein air painting in St. Michaels

Another hot day painting outdoors, but at least the humidity was a bit more bearable. There was a nice breeze too, which kicked up mightily while I was painting this little tugboat in the harbor at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in St. Michaels. It was so windy, in fact that I was afraid to attach my umbrella to my easel. I had to hold my umbrella in one hand to shade my painting and palette, and paint with the other hand. I never before realized how much I needed two hands for painting! I chatted with the owner of this tugboat briefly and he assured me I had captured a decent likeness. "It's called The Delaware," he said as he was walking away. "The Delaware!"  I guess I have a title. The Delaware it is!

[where: 21663]

Maryland's Eastern Shore is an artist friendly place!

The Eastern Shore of Maryland has lot to offer for the plein air painter. In my vicinity I can paint the harbors, wetlands, and charming little villages like St. Michael's, Oxford, Tilghmand Island, and Easton. The people here seem pretty used to plein air painters too, since Easton just recently hosted a plein air festival and paint out. It is really nice to visit an area that is so supportive of the arts. Everywhere I go, the local establishments in Easton have plein air paintings on display. Even if I didn't paint at all, there are lots of shops, art galleries and restaurants to enjoy. If you're into antiques they seem big into that as well! And of course there is fishing. Lots of fishing! But what I like most is the natural beauty combined with the local charm of the area. You can drive out in several directions and hit the water, as small creeks, tributaries, and larger bodies of water finger their way into the land. It is fairly easy to find potential painting sites. It is also easy to pull off on the side of the road if something catches your eye. I love that there are bike paths along the byways, and big wide shoulders. I will definitely return to paint here again. I imagine spring or fall would be lovely (and a bit gentler in terms of the outside temperature!)

Tilghman Island Wetlands; Plein air painting

This piece was painted at about 5 pm. after a full day of painting in the hot, hot, sun. Sun sets around here at around 8 pm. but even so the light changed very quickly. There was a pinkish haze in the clouds and sky which may not be showing up that well in the image here, and the greys are really have more color in them, but I'm using limited image editing software on the road. This painting is 8"x10" and painted with the same 6 color + white palette I used yesterday.

A hazy day at Tilghman Island

If you are on the east coast, perhaps you witnessed some of that torrential driving rain that came through various parts yesterday. Well, I drove through it to get to the Eastern Shore! But I finally made it in one piece and got out to Tilghman Island to paint  the boats near the marina.  It was a very hot, hazy and humid day. The sun was out but it was a rather diffused, flat  but ever changing light that made for fairly close value ranges and a bit of a challenging subject. I started rather late in the morning but made this oil sketch with a limited palette of 6 colors plus white:

For this painting I used cadmium yellow light, raw sienna, alizarin crimson, permanent rose, ultramarine blue, ivory black and titanium white.  This is not my usual palette which is more of a double primary plus an extra color or two (and also devoid of black). But I'm practicing with the limited palette en plein air because it really helps to learn how to mix colors. It is also much lighter on the load if you can carry fewer paints!

Off to the Eastern Shore

I'm taking off for a few days to the Eastern Shore of Maryland with the intention of doing a little painting on location.  Blogging may be spotty if at all due to limited internet access, but I will try. I have been taking advantage of travel this summer since things always seem to kick into high gear in the fall and things at the gallery can get pretty busy. In light of my travels I will not be participating in the August First Fridays Richmond Art Walk (I'll gear back up again for the Art Walk in September). But there will still be a lot going on at the other venues, so be sure to check them out if you are in Richmond.

Watercolor/pen and ink - Ocracoke Lighthouse

Getting back to the topic of my recent visit to Ocracoke Island, here's another sketch from my travels. I haven't painted many lighthouses in my day (okay this is the first one!) but the lighthouse of Ocracoke is such a visible landmark on this tiny island. In fact it is also historically significant as is the second oldest operating lighthouse in the nation. (In case you're wondering, the oldest is the Sandy Hook Lighthouse in New Jersey.)

"Ocracoke Lighthouse" Original Watercolor & Ink on Paper