Coastal Sunset Painting- WIP

While the last work in progress I posted still seems to be...er...in progress I offer you this new WIP that seems to be moving along a little more easily. I have decided to return to the nontoxic (or less toxic, any way) painting process that I was doing while I was pregnant.  Essentially this process was to paint without solvents and instead to thin the paint and clean my brushes with walnut oil.

What was formerly a struggle to me using this method now seems to be working to my advantage. Working with the walnut oil keeps my paintings wetter longer. This is a good thing for me now, as I am only able to get dedicated painting time for about 3 half-days a week. So I can now return to my painting in a more malleable state without having to feel like I need to rework everything in order to open it back up again (which is what kept happening with the Venice WIP). 

I also decided to try working with M. Graham paints again, which I had tried (unsuccessfully) to use en plein air some time ago. Initially I found them rather more fluid than I was accustomed to, particualrly for juicy plein air work that I need to have set up rather quickly. It was also a hot summer day when I last tried to use them, and what I ended up with at that time was a mushy, gooey mess. But, again, what seemed like a liability is now working to my advantage, and I am really enjoying these paints now, for the precise reason that they are more fluid and very buttery.

For this painting I am using a single primary palette of red yellow and blue plus white. For my red I've chosen Quinacridone Rose; my yellow is Indian Yellow, and the blue is my old friend Ultramarine. I am, of course, also using white, which is my favorite white and what I have on hand, made by Classic Artist Oils. It is buttery, but has a little more body to it and blends nicely with the more fluid colors. This is a really good palette, I am finding, for sunset paintings, as the colors are both rich and transparent and lend themselves to that luminous quality I'm after. And since at sunset everything seems to take on the color of the sky, using a limited palette creates a nice unity in the painting.

These pictures show the progression of my 24x30 inch canvas so far. If all goes well, I should be able to finish this piece today for a posting of the final product later in the week. That is, if I can get myself off of this computer!

Winter Solstice reception Friday at Glave Kocen Gallery

This is a cross-posting with my newsletter so I hope that the readers of both will forgive the repetition. If you are in the Richmond area, I will be participating in a group invitational this Friday night at Glave Kocen Gallery. I will be one of ten artists featured for this one night event exhibiting winter themed art. But this is not just an art show. It's also a fundraiser for a great cause. Spearheaded by The 1000 Strong Project, proceeds from the sale of the show will benefit Comfort Zone Camp (CZC). CZC offers free camps for kids nationwide who have experienced the death of a parent, sibling or primary caregiver. The 1000 Strong Project has also produced some great art calendars (in which my art will also be featured) that will be sold at the reception to benefit the charity. So if you are in Richmond, come out for some fun, see some great winter-themed art, pick up some calendars for holiday gifts, and support a great cause. Here are the details:

What: "Winter Solstice" Art Reception for The 1000 Strong Project and Comfort Zone Camp Where: Glave Kocen Gallery, 1620 W. Main Street, Richmond, VA 23220 When: Friday, November 12, 2010, 6-9 PM Hope to see you there!

October Maples

When I woke up the other morning it was so stunning outside that I decided to leave the studio for a bit and do some plein air painting in my Bellevue neighborhood. Dave and I passed these gorgeous maples on Newport Drive during our walk in the 'hood the previous evening and I made a mental note to check them out again in the morning :

"October Maples" Oil on Linen, 9x12" For more information, contact me!

This is not the greatest of photos, so I will try and re-shoot this tomorrow morning when the lighting is better.  There are some areas where I might've wanted more refinement, but I am going to sit with this a bit and see how I feel about it when I can look at it with fresh eyes.

One thing I realized from the timed exercise I mentioned in my previous post was just how long my plein air paintings look like absolutely nothing. In fact, a common occurrence with me lately is the feeling of a sinking heart as I look at the confusing mess that is my painting and wonder if I might be better off just scrapping the whole thing. Bleh!

But then I'll think something like, "Just work on it a little more and then you can quit if you want to." Only a few strokes later (if they are good strokes) I find myself excited again and some logic begins to emerge.  It's almost as if something switches in my brain (on or off? I don't know.)  Maybe I just let go of the outcome and relax enough that somehow I can see the scene before me not as an overload of "things", but as a rhythmic pattern of lights and darks, colors and shapes.

This is not to say that there aren't areas for inprovement in this painting. But at least I managed to get the impression of place down, which, based on how the painting progressed in the earlier stage, was quite a surpise to me.  I guess the moral of that story is not to give up too soon. Some paintings are indeed "false starts" and probably just doomed to fail. But then there are those that have potential and a solid start and just require more patience and relaxed focus. Bargain with yourself to just stick it out a little longer and see what happens. By doing so, you often have little to lose and much to gain.

Small works invitational

There's been a lot happening around here so unfortunately the blog neglect has continued! I do hope to ramp up to more regular posting (and painting!) by early next week. Meanwhile, here are two new little Key West pieces I've done for a small works holiday invitational that opens at the Miller Gallery on November 20th in Cincinnati.

"The Shady Side" Oil on Canvas, 6x8"

"Towering Bougainvilla" Oil on Canvas, 6x8"

I am so honored to show my work in such a lovely looking gallery alongside artists of such fine caliber. Check them out!

A Spot of Shade

I can always find something to paint in my own Bellevue neighborhood.  This is a lovely back yard garden down the street from us. I painted this from across the street so as not to be too voyuristic. ;-) :

"A Spot of Shade" Oil on Panel, 10x8" Contact me for purchasing info!

There may be few homes in Bellevue proper that would qualify as sprawling mansions. But what it lacks in that department, it makes up for in beautiful gardens and loads of charm. When my husband and I walk through our 'hood, we always note how lovingly the yards are tended. More often than not, even the smallest bungalow and the most modest yard tends to have some touch of personality to it. It's a special place.

Coexistence

I'll be traveling the next couple of weeks and I have a million things to do to get ready. But the weather has been so beautiful that in spite of my chores, I can't resist going outside. I returned to the James River site near Tredegar to do another piece under the railroad bridge, this time in early morning:

"Coexistence" Oil on Linen, 12x12"

Unlike the painting posted the other day, there were no "bathers" this time (none of the human variety, at least). But there's still something about this place that really appeals to me. I think it's the contrast I enjoy --this juxtaposition of the urban structures and natural forms, coexisting, at least for that moment, peacefully and rather beautifully.

I'll be leaving this weekend for our annual beach trip to the OBX (Hatteras Island) then home for a couple of days, and off again to Paint Annapolis. I'll bring my laptop with me and certainly I plan to paint throughout that time. IÂdo hope to keep posting here and there, at least during the beach portion. With travel, I never know what kind of resources I'll be dealing with though, so we will see. Oh, and there is this thing called "relaxing", which I've heard is a rather nice past-time. I just might give that a try at the beach too!

Gold Rush

I mentioned the other day that I'd made a couple of sequential painting visits down at the James River near Belle Isle. This is the painting from the second visit. Just a view of nature this time, which shows the diversity that this one site allows:

"Gold Rush" Oil on Linen, 11x14" Contact me for purchasing info!

 I've painted this scene before, but I haven't gotten enough of it so I've experimented with a slightly different angle and format. I also pushed the color and handled the brushwork somewhat broader and more impressionistically; probably in part because I decided on a whim to return and once I set up and changed my mind, and set up again in a different spot (this happened a few times) I didn't have much time to capture the light that I wanted. I started right around rush hour, but the golden glow came closer to the end of my session, hence the title.

Bathers on the James

I've taken two more two more plein air trips down to the James River of late, and this piece, done near Belle Isle is the result of the first. This is a study done alongside a painting buddy of mine, from the vantage point of the Civil War museum park, looking up at the CSX railway tracks.

 

 "Bathers on the James" (study) Oil on Panel, 9x12"

With angle of the light and the architecture of the bridge, I didn't get much further than a study. But I feel that this scene is destined to become a larger, more developed piece at some point soon. Initially I was attracted to light of early evening as it slanted across the track footings and bounced in the water's reflections. But as we were setting up, groups of  bathers descended on the scene. What luck. I knew there were lots of swimmers in the evenings nearby on Belle Isle, but I didn't realize how many people have come to use this part of the park (right across from the Civil War Museum) after work. Even though in this painting I merely suggest just a few of the figures (and they are barely there- only about an inch and a half high) in life they had a much greater presence and gave a very dreamlike quality to the scene before me. Everything happened so fast, so I just did what I could to try and catch the light and overall structure of scene, not getting caught up in the details but committing them to my memory. It seemed like just as soon as the bathers appeared, they disappeared into the ethers (right along with the fading light.)  I've already returned to the same spot at the same time in order to take photos in hopes that I can do these bathers justice in a larger work.

Richmond Skyline

I went out to the James River with a painter friend the other day, to Rockett's Landing,  to be exact. We were hoping to catch a peek at the marina and maybe do some painting around there alongside the water. Rockett's Landing is a fancy new urban condo development in Richmond that has been under construction for some time. My friend has a son who is a tenant there, so when I was invited to visit, my curiosity was piqued. The vision of the development is supposed to include not only condos but restaurants, shops, private slips and a public marina. The condos are up, and a couple of restaurants are emerging, but still there seems to be no sign of any kind of public marina that was proposed by the city to be developed some time ago, alongside the development of the private slips.  There were a scant few private slips that looked occupied, and they were gated off, of course, so no painting down by the harborside for me. The grounds between the condos and the river are still very much a construction site. I had heard that a lot of the promised tenants of the condominimums vaporized with the failing economy and it's been much slower going than originally planned. Construction hasn't stopped, but it looks to have slowed considerably. In any event,  dashing my hopes for a marina painting, I settled on this view, looking approximately west up the James river towards Richmond's skyline:

 

"Richmond Skyline" Oil on Canvas, 9x12"

It was all haze and big puffy clouds, the shimmering water rarely disturbed, and then only by intermittent flocks of Canadian geese. Being made to stand for a while and contemplate this very familiar view, I realized once again the incredible gift we have in the James, and the vast amount of nature and wildlife that pulses right through the heart of  our downtown. So the river actually has plenty of tenants already, who seeminlgly have no awareness of any shortage. I just hope we can remember to serve them well.

The Cook's Garden

Lately I'm wanting to try my hand at a bit more architecture, so I figured there'd be no simpler place to start than in my own back yard. I painted this piece en plein air right in front of my studio:

"The Cook's Garden" Oil on Linen, 16x12" Click here for purchasing information!

The view is of our back door that leads into the kitchen. I love to cook, so I am a bit of an herb nut and have a small potted garden filled with herbs and flowers along our back steps leading up to the kitchen. In summer it is so nice (and convenient) to step outside and grab some handfuls for a salad, marinade or other dish. I started most of the potted herbs from seeds and have many different kinds of basil (I kind of went a little overboard with that one!) plus thyme, lemon balm, and parsley all within reach. Climbing up a small mounted trellis are super sweet "Sun Gold" cherry tomatoes given to me by our friend Al--a favorite snack at our house (the tomatoes, not Al!) The little pot sitting at the very top of the trellis is catnip, which had to be mounted up high to be "rationed out" to the kitties in order to keep it from being annihilated in one sitting.

The light only stays put in this spot for a short time, so I started this painting one morning and put the finishing touches to it on the next. It's something I rarely do, but since I have the convenience of living at the site, it worked out okay. This one took me a bit longer to resolve than many of my other outdoor paintings. Mostly I prefer to try to finish everything en plein air alla prima. Not only is it a hassle (and not always possible) to have to return to the same spot with the exact timing and weather conditions, but it is often hard to recapture the same mood and feelings and thought processes about a place if I spread the work out over consecutive days. But this is the view I see from my desk as I work on my computer (in fact, I'm looking at it right now!) and it has become so imprinted in my mind that I don't think the painting has suffered from the interruption.

Painting again! Plein air @ Lewis Ginter

Well, I think I am back from my "blog break" now. I even took a brief painting break as well to get some much needed rest and physical therapy for my neck/shoulder/arm troubles. But since I'm, also feeling the need to excercise my "plein air painting muscles" for the upcoming Paint Annapolis event, I'm trying to ease back into outdoor painting again.  Here's a happy little vignette I did this week at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden:

"Garden Companions" Oil on board, 12x8"

The botanical garden is really gorgeous right now and full of summer blooms. Even so, I had to forgo a lot of really good potential painting opportunities in order to find a spot of shade. The August sun and my fair complexion do not get along for any length of time, so shade is a real must. My painting umbrella does little more than shade my canvas and easel, leaving the rest of me high and dry (or hot and bothered, or whatever!)

I finally managed to tuck myself into a little corner to paint this potted urn surrounded by purple cone-flower, perennial grasses and towering hibiscus. Is it a landscape or a still life? Your call. Any way, it's rather wild and impressionistic. Guess I was happy to be painting again. :-) I'll upload it to the website this weekend, but meanwhile contact me for purchasing inquiries. (Note: It is done. See the link above!)

"The Brook"- A plein air adventure in Bryan Park

Last week I took another early morning stab at painting in Bryan Park. Since I had already done a couple of plein air paintings at the park of Young's Pond, (which you can see here and here) I decided this time to tackle the shady brook that feeds it:

"The Brook" Oil on birch panel, 12x9" Contact me for purchasing info!

Even though everything seemed to be lining up for me when I launched into this painting, I did have a couple of unanticipated challenges. At the time I was dealing with "umbrella issues", so after hassling with it for about 10 minutes to no avail, I gave up and just tried to position myself so that my painting and palette would be shaded from the sun. Sometimes it's hard to anticipate this, but I keep a compass handy for that reason, and I figured I would have at least an hour before the sun would overtake me.

But then there was "Billy" (not his real name.) Let me preface by saying that Billy was an incredibly kind and gentle soul, and exceedingly complimentary. But Billy liked to chat. A lot. And ask lots of questions. I love meeting people, and I am always blown away by how lovely people are when I'm out painting, complimenting my work as they stop briefly to take a look. But I find it pretty much impossible to chat for extended periods and stay "in the zone" when I am painting.

At the same time,  I have yet to figure out how to express this to someone without feeling like I am being a big jerk. My husband's advice is matter-of-fact- "Tell them you are W-O-R-K-I-N-G." This seems so simple and rational until I am in a real life situation. I guess I just hate to be rude, and it feels so ungracious when someone is being so genuinely enthusiastic. But really, Dave's right. This is my work, and it's up to me to respect it and value my time, regardless of whether any one else thinks to do so.

As it was, I was a total wimp and did not tell him anything close to that--at most, merely *hinting* that, "Well, ahem! I'd better get to this thing and focus, ha-ha!" (which apparently was a bit too subtle for dear Bill). The end result was that it took me far longer than I wanted to take, and all too quickly I lost my beautiful shade.

When I got back to the studio, I had the inevitible but still unpleasant surprise of seeing a resulting painting far darker than I thought it was when I was on site, due to the sun's glare (what I call "retina burn"). I did about 20 minutes of rework from memory to lighten it up in places, and I think I've still managed to maintain the feeling of the light and the place.

The odd thing is that even though I seem more often than not to have to deal with the pitfalls (and pratfalls) of painting on location, there is still something about it that leaves some part of me feeling exhilarated. There's a clarity to it; a feeling of losing myself and being in fully the moment, even alongside the sunburn and bugs and chatterboxes. So I'll return. And hopefully next time I do so it will be with a working umbrella AND a backbone!  ;-)

Sunset on the Sound

I did bring my watercolors with me on our recent anniversary trip to Cape Hatteras, but I really didn't do much in the way of painting, save for this quick and light-hearted attempt below (done when we were sitting on the beach).  It just wasn't that kind of trip.

 

In fact, I even forgot to bring my camera, which is a real rarity for me! In a way it was a shame, because the B& B where we stayed had a fantastic vantage point on the sound, and provided us with some of the most beautiful sunsets we'd seen in a while. In another way, taking a real vacation to just "be", without feeling the need to work, was quite nice and very relaxing (though, believe me, there were times when the views were so compelling that the pull was strong!)

Our room had a view, so we'd sit on our balcony each evening and watch the sun set. I never tire of doing this. You can watch the setting sun from the same spot each evening and yet each time the experience is unique. It's the best show in town, and the sky seems to delight itself in its endless variations.

In the end, it's just as well that I left the camera at home, because the large majority of my amateur snapshots fail to capture the depth of color and the subtler transitions from sky to water. If not painting on the spot, the next best thing is to just sit and observe and to try and commit what I see to memory as best I can. So that's what I did. Once we got home, I painted this little watercolor from memory:

"Sunset on the Sound" Watercolor, 7x10"

Willow in back-light

This week is bringing us some gorgeous weather here in central Virginia, so on the way home from the farmer's market last night, I took a detour and decided to keep a recent promise that I made to myself. I returned to Young's Pond to paint the evening scene I'd scouted out when I was there the prior week for a morning painting session:

Willow in Back-light" Oil on Canvas, 12x16" Click here for more info!

Having already conceptualized what I was going to paint in advance, I set up quickly and dove right into the painting. It was a good thing, too. Even though I started relatively early in the evening (5 PM) all of that beautiful back-lighting did not last. After about an hour and a half, the sun sank quickly behind the trees on the distant hill, and took all of that beautiful backlighting with him!

Luckily I got the painting about 90% complete. As I later told my husband, "I had the essence but not the poetry". This is what I hoped for as I worked on the final 10% immediately after I returned home to the studio (while everything was still fresh in my mind). Mainly it was just a matter of softening some edges and adjusting a value here and there, (and trying not to do too much for fear of losing the essence!)

12x16" is not a huge painting, but it's the largest I've done in plein air in a while. One of my goals (goal number 274!) is to increase my plein air sizes beyond 12x16" or even 16x20". With more canvas to cover, it may require multiple visits to the same site at the same time of day, but it would be interesting to see how far I could push it. We'll see...I have the whole summer ahead of me yet.

p.s. I've finally uploaded the info for the previous plein air painting I did at this location last week. Read the details for that work here.

Alla prima outdoors; plein air at the park

Keeping to the topic of alla prima painting, here is a morning plein air landscape I did this week on a visit to Bryan Park:

"A Bend in the Pond" Oil on Board, 9x12" Click here for more info.

Young's Pond is actually the name of this pond (though there's no relation to yours truly, and that's not what drew me to the location to paint it!) It wasn't until I was researching online that I even knew this pond's name or history (part of a former 18th century gristmill).

Bryan Park is a neighborhood park with lovely old azaleas that put on a great show earlier in the spring. It's a good "go to" spot for me when I need an easy-access opportunity to paint outdoors, as it's very close to my home (a hefty walk with all my plein air gear, but definitely within cycling distance). Even so, it's taken me a little while to warm up to it as a painting site. I find that sometimes with certain locations I need to visit them several times before I can hit it at the right time/place/day to inspire a painting. I've gone there a couple of times already in the early spring when the azaleas were in bloom, and even though the flowers were pretty, I just could not find anything I wanted to compose. I must have looked like a strange and suspicious character, just walking around with a big floppy hat and shabby backpack, staring at trees and bushes in a half-trance, (except for the times when I'd peer through the square formed with my hands)--All to no apparent end. The things we do for art!

This time since the season is over, I wasn't lured to the azelea gardens and instead went directly to the pond. I got there early enough so that the light in the distance was still soft, though the shadows and highlights of the middle distance held enough contrast to interest me. I also liked the little pond "islands", the flowering shrubs growing wild on the bank, and the curved retaining walls. Now that I know how the sun travels over this spot, I've also noted an adjacent site that I think will provide a nice back-lit scene in the later afternoon/early evening. I will return again soon when the time is right, and have another go at Young's Pond. Who knows, maybe it will become a favorite plein air location after all?

p.s. I haven't uploaded this painting to my website yet, so for now, please contact me directly if you'd like purchasing information.

p.p.s. For those who may be unfamiliar with the term "alla prima" that I've bandied about in these last few posts, it's an Italian phrase that literally means "at first". In art terms it refers to a painting done with a direct approach, usually completed in one sitting (wet-into-wet).

Hiking along the James River (and painting there too!)

Happy first day of Spring, everybody! I'll celebrate by posting my latest plein air painting done earlier this week while walking the trails of the James River's North Bank Park.

"Downstream" Oil on Linen, 12x12" Click here for more details and purchasing info!

Funny thing about this excursion- I had gone out the week prior on an initial exploration, but it turned out to be a bust. The weather forecast had called for warmer temperatures, but had really gotten the projected temperatures wrong. Unfortunately, I also had gotten my wardrobe wrong! I've written before about my difficulty with plein air painting in the cold. This particular morning wasn't an icy cold but it was that damp, penetrating cold that just chills to the bone.

So even though I'd found a great spot on "Texas Beach" right the river's edge, I was so uncomfortable that I had to jump ship that morning. Big bummer, because I have only just begun to discover this beautiful part of the river, and I was excited to have found such a great spot that was easily accessible with a few rock-hops, even with all my gear on my back. As it was, I packed up after only about an hour, not having made much progress beyond some murky marks. I probably should have just saved my panel and wiped the whole thing down at that point, but I thought, well, maybe I can just come back later and finish what I've started.

It rained nonstop over the weekend, so I couldn't get back out there until this week. The good thing was, I knew exactly where I wanted to go. I also had a basic composition under way, so I was ahead of the game. Or so I thought.

Being the seasoned outdoor adventurer that I am, it hadn't even occurred to me that the trails would be a little muddy. Manuvering them with about 15 lbs of art gear on my back was....interesting. And graceful. ;-) The other thing I hadn't accounted for is that the rocks that I'd so easily hopped to get out to my awesome view were now completely under water. In fact, the terrain had so changed that I couldn't recognize one familiar thing. So after sliding around looking for "my spot" for a while (and coming face to face with a huge, magnificent heron along the way) I finally gave up and settled on another view.  It's probably just as well. I liked this painting spot even better than the last.

Plein air painting in the snow

There's a first time for everything. I actually got outside this morning in the freezing temperatures and painted in the snow. I know, I know. It's done all the time. But I'm from the South, so doing anything....willingly...in frigid temperatures is a real milestone for me. And any way, I can't remember the last time we had a snow storm with any kind of accumulation, so I was determined:

 

"Snowed Under" 10x8" Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard You can purchase this painting directly from me. Contact me for more info.

This is our little crepe myrtle in our back yard. A small, up-close study was about all I could handle this morning. Even staying close to home, this was a challenging experience for me. First off, I didn't consider just how reflective all that snow would be. Initially I set up near my red studio door, but that red bounced all over the place so I had to move. Second, I wasn't prepared for how stiff the paint would get, or how quickly. My quinacridone red froze up so fast--I had to really coax it with some Gamsol just to get it to budge. And third (and I WAS expecting this one) it was damn cold. I did take a few studio breaks because my right hand (the painting hand) became one big painful throb and revolted periodically by losing its grip and dropping brushes.

Any way, I got it done in a little less than 2 hours. I can't say that I'm a convert to painting in freezing weather, but at least I like the little painting. I did find myself wondering why the heck I didn't just paint something from the warmth of my studio, looking out the window. But no.  I HAD to paint that tree from that angle. Well, maybe it's a good thing. As I'm typing this during my lunchtime break, huge chunks of the white stuff are falling off of our little crepe in mini avalanches.

Plein air on the James- a class and a painting of my own

Yesterday I held a small plein air painting class down by the James River. It was actually scheduled for today, but we came to a consensus to switch the days due to the impending weekend cold front heading into the area. It was a good move. Yesterday we had lots of sunshine and temperatures were in the 80's. But by the afternoon the clouds were rolling in, and this morning there is a soft, steady rain. As for the class, it was a great day of teaching, sharing, and painting but by the end of the day I was thoroughly pooped. Meanwhile on the home studio front, we now have a mountain of building material on our property, which means that if the weather clears the builders can start their work as early as tomorrow. According to our builder, the shell could be up in five days (or less). I was shocked when I heard this, especially since this is stick-built rather than prefab. But I was reminded that basically this is a rectangle we're talking about, with no custom framing for the windows or doors. So apparently by building standards it should be a fairly simple project. I'll have to be on my toes if I want to document the build in photos--if I blink they'll be done!

Lastly, I do have a small painting to share of my own--another one of Brown's Island--not done in the class, but earlier this week. I just haven't had time to post until now:

"Morning at the Levee" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x12" Contact me for more info.

I was very happy with my work on this painting but stupidly did not store it properly and my backpack fell right across the middle of it on the drive home, causing a huge smear! I've repaired it mostly, but I think I'll bring it back to the site to adjust the distant trees.

I'm becoming more and more enthralled with painting down at the James River. Brown's Island alone offers hundreds of painting possibilities. As I've noted before, it's also a fascinating site for Richmond's history, where Civil War and turn-of-the-century industrial ruins stand right alongside our modern architecture. I found some additional info about the levee on a nearby sign upstream:

It's somewhat ironic that I've only recently begun to explore this particular point along the river just at the point that I'm moving out of my downtown studio. Looks like I'll still be coming downtown to work from time to time, even after my home studio is built.

Golden Hour on the James River

Miracle of miracles, I actually painted something this week. I decided to stave off the moving insanity by paying a restorative visit to Brown's Island for a little plein air painting on the James River:

 

"The Golden Hour" Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard, 9x12" Click here for details.

Brown's Island is not too far from my current downtown studio, and painting there the other evening really made me appreciate anew what a uniquely beautiful  wildlife refuge we have running right through the heart of our city. Just down stream, cranes and geese were resting and fishing on the rocks, creating an interesting counterpoint to the cars zooming across the nearby Lee Bridge and the train trestles that loomed directly over my head.

Remnants of old pilings and bridge footings (like the ones shown to the right of the foreground trees in my painting) also served to remind me that this location was the industrial heart of Richmond's recent past.  Today Brown's Island is a lovely part of the James River Park system that feels both wild and urban at once. It's also a popular venue for outdoor concerts and festivals like the upcoming Richmond Folk Festival. (Reminder Richmonders--the festival is this weekend! Tents are already being raised and lots of work is being done in preparation, so don't forget to come out and support this event!)

As for the painting, I painted this scene in the late afternoon/early evening time frame. When I started I didn't notice the bits of red that were in the trees. It wasn't until the sun got a little lower and lit up the trees just so that the brilliant burst of autumn reds revealed themselves. That's one of the joys of plein air painting--these kinds of little miracles unfold before your eyes as you witness the evolutionary effects of light in nature. In these days when I seem to be going a mile a minute, I'm all the more appreciative of the experience.

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 cause  your 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 moment  in 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.  It's not as simple as it sounds. 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.