Back in the saddle (WIP)

Or rather, I'm back at the easel (I think.) At the risk of jinxing myself I'll say I'm painting again. It's pretty slow going though, as I've been fighting a cold and sore throat. For me, painting is a bit like exercising. Get out of the habit for too long and  I start to feel a bit like a (flabby) fish out of water. It's also been a while since I've done any kind of painting indoors, so I'd thought I'd get started by just having fun with lots of color and a manageable sized canvas (20x24").  Because  this is a scene attempting to evoke a pasture (southern France) struck by the golden glow of late afternoon, I started with warm colors right from the get-go:

 

It has been too long. It's not that it's really taking me forever to paint this, just that I'm still pretty easily distracted. The shell of the studio is pretty much complete, save for a few adjustments (photos to come). But we've a long way to go before the inside is in move-in condition, and I'm anxious to get it DONE. 

To whoever suggested that angst is good for creativity-- sorry, I didn't get the memo! (Obviously  I didn't get the memo about patience being a virtue either.) But since it looks like it will be at least December before I can move in, I might as well try and get a little painting done in between all the hand wringing, eh?

I'm off to IKEA for most of tomorrow (Monday) to see what they have in the way of sinks and shelving,  but I hope to have this piece completed by Tuesday or Wednesday. Here's where I've left off:

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.

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 have  preconceptions 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"

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!

Wild Roses (France); and thoughts on painting loose

As mentioned in my previous post, here's a new painting about to come off the easel. Maybe a touch or two yet to go, but mostly it's done. Photographing this painting was a bit of a challenge today due to a lack of good light. It's a pretty decent shot, though I may try a reshoot once the sun comes out:

"Wild Roses" Oil on Linen, 20x16" Click here for more info.

This is another scene from one of those beautiful misty mornings in southern France that I've written of before.  Even though this was somewhat after the heavy fog had lifted, the moist air remained, and the diffused, cool light kept everything soft but saturated.

One thing I've been learning from my plein air paintings is that even the less successful pieces done on location have a certain freshness to them (if I don't allow myself to work them beyond the point that I should). There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that I am painting from life.

But I've also noticed that the brush size-to-canvas ratio is much larger due to the smaller plein air canvases. I don't use tiny brushes (unless I need to sign my name) so I'm really forced to simplify. And I must say, by the very nature of the way I have to approach the painting, I often end up saying more with less. 

I try to keep this in mind on days when I'm working on larger paintings in the studio, and to make a more conscious effort to retain that same kind of freshness and looseness. It's a different matter than plein air painting, but it's been helpful for me to consciously reach for the largest possible brushes to do the task at hand, and to *try* to state things as economically as possible rather than overworking.

It's not an overstatement to say that sometimes my greatest motivations are my limitations. And  in the field, time is a built-in task-master due to the ever-changing light. But in my studio, unless my schedule is crammed full of other chores (as it is soon about to become!) there usually isn't that same kind of urgency. Without that, it can really be tempting to noodle around endlessly.

In my studio work, along with relying a lot more on memory, my challenge is to supply my own urgency, and to work more quickly and loosely. All this and still have command of the paint. There's the rub. After all, loose and quick is pretty pointless if the drawing or composition is weak or if the values aren't right.

It's a lot to consider if you think about it, but it is a fun challenge for me, and hopefully in time I can continue to work even more effectively in this manner on larger canvases still.

Wet panel carriers, plus more on pochade boxes

I have a new painting to share, but the rain we're getting is making it hard for me to get good light for a photo. Hopefully I'll get something to show a little later today. Meanwhile, those readers who are "gear-heads" like me might enjoy some light reading on plein air gear: Wet Panel Carriers:

Ever wonder how to carry those wet paintings around after a day of plein air painting? Never fear, that's why wet panel carriers were invented. :-)  There are a number of commercially available boxes designed with interior slots to hold a few wet panels at a time. Raymar is well known  among plein air painters for their lightweight and moderately priced wet panel carrier made out of corrugated plastic.

But with very little time, ingenuity, and even less cash, it's easy to make your own, even if you aren't into gagetry or woodworking. The folks on the WetCanvas plein air forum have discussed this topic endlessly. Here are a few of the solutions I've bookmarked:

1. Marc Hanson's wet panel carrier, cheap and fast.
2. Cost Cutter Ideas from Larry Seiler and others- includes wet panel carriers and other home made solutions for some of your plein air painting gadgetry.
3. And lastly, here's Wayne Gaudon's solution, and the one I've tried myself (with a few modifications.) Easy!  It uses el-cheapo Walmart picture frames and a few very simple tools. I pretty much ditched the tools and came up with the lazy woman's version. As soon as I photograph it I'll write about my own experience with this version of the home made panel carrier.

Pochade boxes

Don't worry, you'll not get another thousand-word dissertation from me on plein air easels (but if you missed it the first time, you can read my thoughts here, here  here and here).

This time, Charlie Parker has taken good care of this task on his most interesting art blog Lines and Colors. If you're in the market for a pochade box and feel overwhelmed by the choices, this post will go a long way towards helping you along in your decision. I was happy to see that he wrote about  a new pochade box I've been lusting after myself- made by Alla Prima Pochade.

I first saw one of these boxes (the Bitterroot Lite)  demo'ed in France by fellow artist-traveler Joyce Gabriel, and I was impressed with the many thoughtful and unique features, and how all of it folded up into one neat little package to fit inside her everyday backpack.

P.S. If you have extra reading time, check out the rest of Charlie's site for lots of great art coverage, including his latest post on a painter I've long admired, Richard Schmid.  This is a timely post for me personally, as this summer I've been re-reading Schmid's wonderful book, "Alla Prima" (also available in a more  affordable paperback) and doing the color charts he recommends (incredibly enlightening!)  You also might enjoy Joyce's posts and pics on her trip to France . I met Joyce at Le Vieux Couvent where I'll be teaching my own workshop next spring.

Richmond plein air class info is up

Heading out early again to get in some morning painting, so hopefully I'll have something new to show later on. Meanwhile, I've posted details for "Warm Up to Plein Air" in Richmond, VA. Click here to visit the workshop page. The France workshop/painting holiday info is almost ready (promise!), but it has been a time nailing down pricing what with the Dollar/Euro conversion and the communication limitations due to time zones. More on that very soon.

Painting tips: Saving paint, and color vs. mud

On saving paint Okay, you had a good day of painting outside, but you still have a good deal of paint left over on your palette. What do you do with the leftovers?  Obviously you can save your "clean" piles of pure color, either to transfer for use back in the studio, or to just leave on your palette ( if you're able) for the next day's plein air painting session.

For the mixed colors that are left at the end of a session, some artists just scrape them altogether in one big pile and use this "mud" to tone their plein air panels. Others save the "mud pile" to soften or mute their color mixtures at the next session. Good ideas, though I usually find that many are "successful" enough at mixing mud without having to keep big piles of it on hand ;-).

Here's what works for me. When I clean my palette after a session, I scrape up all of my usable color mixtures that relate to each other by color family and make piles for use in the next session. For instance, if I have piles of mixed reds, yellows, and to some extent earth colors on my palette, I'll scrape them together to make a warm orange/red/ earth pile. If I have piles of blues and violets, those would be scraped together for another use. If I have piles of greens (which I usually have aplenty when plein air painting in Virginia!) this forms another single pile. So now I have 2 or 3 piles of secondary mixed colors that I can use for another day.  These mixtures are still clean looking and, if I have enough of them, they may save me some extra elbow grease the next day.

Color vs. Mud

The "mud" occurs when you mix together two secondary colors, or a primary color with its secondary complement. For instance red mixed with greens, blues mixed with oranges, violets with yellows, etc. *Note: One man's "mud" is another man's "colored gray". In fact, some of the most beautiful paintings I've admired are those made of primarily muted, colored gray mixtures. But if your challenge is to mix clean color, the above may be a useful tip both in terms of conserving paint and keeping your colors clean in the process.

Oil painting substrates; Multimedia Artboard

The last few paintings I've featured from my recent France travels are done on Multimedia Artboard. I posted about this surface before when I was getting ready for my trip, and I thought I'd write a little more about it as a follow up. I really enjoyed this surface, especially for traveling and painting en plein air. For one thing, it is very thin, so you can pack a good number of these boards and not take up a ton of room in your suitcase. You can also cut the board to size very easily with either a guillotine-type paper cutter or an exacto knife.

In fact, it is so lightweight that when I first ordered this material I thought I had been sent the wrong product. I was expecting a board, and what I got was something that seemed more like a rigid watercolor paper. I even called the manufacturer to ask about it. I will say that the manufacturer was extremely helpful, and was almost at a point where he was willing to ship me some board from his own stock so that I'd have some for my trip, even though I hadn't originally purchased it from him. But he told me, "If it's my board it should be very rigid. In fact, it will shatter if you try to bend it." Sure enough, when I put it to the test, it did.

That's the one thing to be careful of with this product--but protect the corners in travel and don't drop it from a balcony, and you should be fine. It has a rough side and a smoother side to it, so you have a choice on which side to paint, depending on your needs. I also like that it accepts a variety of media--watercolor, acrylic AND oil. It can accept oils either as is, or primed, if you wish, with gesso. I double primed mine, but it was a little slick, so I think next go around I'll try it unprimed to see what that's like.

While the board is rigid, because it is thinner than a "board", I taped mine to a larger board (gatorboard or coroplast) to give me a stronger work surface.  For framing, I can simply pop it in a frame backed by a sturdier board and it's ready to go.

I am finding the Multimedia Artboard  much easier to mount and frame after the fact than the other surface I took with me, a fine-weave primed linen. And while linen has luxurious qualities all its own, I can easily and happily see myself going back and forth between these two surfaces for my plein air painting travels.

Le Nocturne Francais

I have always loved nocturnes, so it was a real thrill to paint one under a full moon in a beautiful French country village. This little painting was done right in the neighborhood of our home base at Le Vieux Couvent:

"Le Nocturne Francais" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x8" Click here or on the image for more info.

This painting came about one evening after a full day of touring and painting in the Dordogne countryside, AND after a huge and delicious five course dinner. We were all winding down for the night and Mary, our fearless leader, came in from an after dinner walk she had taken with her husband. They had gone out to find a lovely evening scene just up the street, lit by a street lamp and a full moon. She was going to go painting, she said, and anyone who wanted to join her was also welcome. Well, as tired as I was, I couldn't resist, and neither could most of the other painters. "We're in France! We can sleep later," became the mantra of our time together.

Knowing how quickly things change in the night sky, I took a small surface with me and set up under a nearby streetlamp. While the fog painting posted earlier was a high-key close value painting, this was a close value low-key one. We really couldn't see our colors at all, so it is indeed a good practice to place paint colors habitually in the same positions on the palette!

Gradually my eyes adjusted somewhat, so I just concentrated on shape and subtle differences. After I got the large dark shapes down, the night sky and the window light were the first things I addressed. It was a good thing, as not very long after, the clouds had drifted completely away, and the homeowner had called it a night and turned off the light.

New stuff coming soon, I promise!

I have many notes on things I'd like to blog about, but it seems this whole month has been crammed packed with activity. I'm getting ready for the art walk this Friday, and  a trip to France in just over a couple of  weeks.  But I will post new work this week, even if it's just a few small plein air pieces. And I've plenty of other things I'd like to write about too, if I can find the time:

• More thoughts on color mixing and art mediums
• More on art books I've been enjoying
• Planning and packing all my gear for an overseas trip
• One more "Art for Food" auction before I take a travel hiatus
• Sharing what I'm learning about the beautiful region of the Lot and Dordogne where I'll soon be touring and painting

I may not get to everything, but I will surely get to a number of these topics over the next couple of weeks before I sign off to head for 10 days of computer-free travel.

I've been interviewed by Creative Spotlite!

Recently I was interviewed by Creative Spotlite's Ralph Serpe.  In the interview, I respond to Ralph's questions about my journey as an artist and my art career thus far. Ralph is the founder of the Creative Spotlite art instruction website and blog, both of which feature an ever-growing collection of free art lessons, demos, links,  and a wealth of other resources for artists. In conjunction with the interview, Ralph has also featured my plein air demo for my painting "Vineyard Patterns" on his site. Thanks Ralph, for featuring me and my work, and for creating such content rich sites for artists!

Small WIP & value sketches amid the rubble

A series of wet gray days have kept me from painting outside, so I've spent some time putting my studio  (and myself!) back together in the aftermath of the workshop. For me, "spring cleaning" always seems to make things look worse before they get better.

I have little piles around me...piles of books, of paperwork, and also a small pile of unfinished paintings. Among the latter is this demo painting that I started in the workshop, which I may noodle around with and bring to a more finished state. It's small, just 12x9", so we're talking maybe just orzo or macaroni-sized noodling.

I started this workshop demo talking about composition and values and how they related to each other. Since we were working with the limitations of photographs, I wanted to try to get folks to think about the possibility of composition beyond just what they saw in front of them in the picture. When I'm painting en plein air, I will often do a series of small value sketches before I jump right into painting. I will use this same approach too in the studio, to develop my design.

Along with a contour sketch, it is extremely helpful to do this in a very abbreviated quick grayscale, so that I can get a general idea of my value relationships and the overall design that is created not only by the placement of line but also by the pattern of dark and light:

 

This is not a new concept, of course. Artists have forever been studying and writing about the arrangement of values (lights and darks) to compose a strong design. The artsy fartsy term for this is "Notan". Okay, it's actually Japanese. Notan sketches can be fleshed out in recongnizable contours (like mine above) or they can be very quick and gestural thumbnail abstractions created for the purpose of identifying the underlying design.

The values are generally limited to four or less.  I used 2 markers; black and light gray, deriving my middle gray from a blending of the two, and letting the white of the paper stand as my lightest value. 

Of course, in life we see a much wider range of values, but in designing and executing a painting, I'm learning that simpler is often better.  If you look at many of Monet's paintings, you might notice that many of them have a very small range of values indeed, and he used color temperature and very soft edges to add a wonderful sense of atmospheric depth to his work.

A quick Google search for "Notan" yielded some good results for further exploration:

• A good series of Notan lessons from Virtual Art Academy
• Artist Robert Genn discusses Notan in his inspirational newsletter "The Painter's Keys"
• Painter Ed Terpening does it!
• Katherine Tyrrell does too.

How about you?

Scenes from the painting workshop

I'm baaaack! Fell in a black hole of the blogosphere for a while and am slooowly recovering from a very busy and intense workshop at my studio this past weekend. Church Hill Photography took some great environmental shots of one of the demo portions  of the class on the first day, so I thought I'd share them here. (BTW, Elaine Odell of Church Hill Photography also made the excellent portrait of me in my studio, so be sure to check out her website if your looking for a photographer who really knows her stuff!) While I've taught off-site at other hosted locations, this was the first time I've actually hosted a workshop myself, and preparing for it was quite a bit more work than I'd imagined because I had to prep both my lessons and the space itself.  The participants did some great work though, and were enthusiastic and so much fun. And it was really exciting for me to share ideas about color, shape, values, and composition. Hopefully everyone felt like they learned a lot. I know I did!

After a brief discussion of color mixing (and especially mixing greens) I did a little landscape demo. This is a good long shot that shows me sketching out my composition at my setup, as well as the studio beyond. The participants worked in the front two rooms, so we had to configure the space in a way that would protect those beautiful wood floors. Hence the lovely blue spill-resistant floor coverings!

Here's a cool shot  through the easel. There's a large mirror to my back, which I use to check my compositions in reverse. It really does help to give me a "fresh look" at my work. That cutie just over my shoulder in the gray tee is my talented niece Molly, a fine emerging artist who I was delighted to have come all the way from Texas to take the class and visit. The "man in black" looming in the doorway is my husband and partner Dave. As always, he was a HUGE help to me, keeping everything running smoothly.

This shot shows the demo piece, coming right along.

The workshop was pretty action packed, but by being in the studio we were able to really focus some of the more important elements of painting as they pertain to the landscape, in conditions that were controllable. I hope to do some plein air classes too in addition to the studio intensive, as this "takes it to the next level" and throws a whole other slew of concerns into the pot (watch this page for future workshop listings). Luckily I hadn't planned a plein air class for this past weekend though, as we had some really varied weather ranging from cloudburst thunderstorms to overcast damp chill.

On Monday Molly and I took a road trip up to Charlottesville so that she could see Jefferson's Monticello. Wow! What an absolutely gorgeous day--the redbuds, fruit trees, dogwoods and tulips were going crazy. I hope I can get up back up there some time soon to paint some of it-- and paint some local plein air scenes as well. Right after I take care of a few neglected household and business matters, that is. Whatever I paint, I'll be sure to post here first, so stay tuned....

Lakeside Chalet

I'm not sure if this painting is finished yet, but I feel like I've been looking at it for so long that I can't see it any more. Time to get it off of my easel for a while and work on something else! This is one of two Lake Como paintings I started working on side-by-side:

  "Lakeside Chalet" Oil on Canvas, 30x40"

 I eventually left off of this method and focused on one painting at a time. I think working back and forth might be okay if I have one small painting and one large, but with two big ones it was getting me nowhere fast.

We've had some gloomy weather this week and between that and the wet glare of this painting I'm having a hard time getting a good photograph. Once I reshoot it in better conditions I'll upload it to my website  (Update: Sunshine today! Image reshot). Meanwhile, please contact me for more info about this piece.

A two-fer; Lake Como Paintings

My schedule has been NUTS lately so unfortunately my blog has suffered a bit of benign neglect. Still alive and kicking and painting, however. Here's something I thought I'd try to see if I might be able to save a little money on paint. A lot of times when I paint I can mix too much color, (which I still think is far better than mixing too little). These mixtures can be reused of course, especially if the subsequent painting needs similar hues. But I'm not always good about consciously planning my subjects like that. So here's a conscious effort to get two paintings going at the same time with color mixtures that relate to each other:

 The key will be not to just lazily use what's already mixed if it doesn't really suit what I'm painting. In hindsight it might have been better to start one large painting and one small painting instead of two rather ambitiously sized pieces, (they are both 30x40".) But I guess I was feeling cocky when I started these! 

While I did the transparent color block-ins  one after the other, what is happening  as I proceed is that I am still focusing on one individually, with an occasional switch-off when I need a change.  I don't really know if I'm conserving much paint, but it does keep things interesting. ;-) In case you can't tell what these are, the subject matter for both pieces is Lake Como, Italy. The painting on the left will be a more fleshed out version of the little watercolor painting I did for my last charity auction.

Speaking of which, a new Art for Food Auction will be posted by tomorrow morning!

New spring landscape painting workshop forming now

 Note: This workshop is now full, but if you'd like to receive future workshop notifications please contact me by email, and I'll add you to my workshop mailing list. Just a quick announcement  to say that I'm now accepting registration for a new landscape oil painting workshop at my Richmond, VA studio:

Painting the Landscape in Oils (Studio Workshop) When: April 11-13, 2008 Friday evening 6-8 Saturday 10-5 Sunday 10-5

Where: Jennifer Young Studio & Gallery 16 E. Main Street Richmond, VA 23219 1-877-DIAL-ART (1-877-342-5278) 804-254-1008 (within VA)

Here are the workshop details and registration info...

Photographing oil paintings for the web

Thanks to my niece Molly, a talented artist in her own right, for inspiring this blog post: So you have a nice little painting you've just completed, but none the photographs you took do it justice. How can you get decent photos for your website? I am certainly no expert photographer, but I will share what I do for my own website to produce decent reproductions of flat art for online display.

Photographing artwork is definitely a little tricky. If the artwork has any sheen at all, any flash or angled light can cause glare on the surface, which will distract or obscure the true nature of the picture. These days, I use a digital camera for all of my photography and tend to do a fair amount of color correction in Photoshop. But I used the same method of photography I will describe below, even in the pre-digital age when I made slides of my work. 

The best conditions I've found for photographing artwork is outside on a bright but cloudy day. This gives consistent diffused light and the least amount of glare. If photographing on a sunny day, try to set your painting up at the edge of a shaded area so that enough light reaches the painting without shining directly on it. Tree shade isn't good because of the dappling. It needs to be even light, so maybe an overhang on the side of a building or something.

If you are shooting film or are otherwise not able to correct the camera angle after the fact, you'll need to make sure your canvas is as perpendicular to the camera as possible. You can either set it up on an easel or hang it on a wall on the side of a building if the overhang isn't too large. To avoid the fish-eye effect that can occur because of a wide-angle lens curve, you should set your camera up on a tripod far enough away from the painting and zoom all the way in on your painting to fill the lens as best you can with the picture. This will minimize that fish-eye distortion. (Thanks to artists David Darrow, James Abbott and others in the Daily Painters Discussion group for this and other technical tips!)  

When photographing, I use my camera's manual setting so that I can set the white balance and bracket the exposures, just in case what I'm seeing in the viewfinder isn't what I get on my computer screen. Then I'll examine all of these images in Photoshop, and with the painting sitting next to me, I'll make adjustments to the chosen image in brightness, contrast, color, etc. Photoshop is great also for correcting the picture if the painting doesn't look exactly square. But Photoshop is also $$$ so if you don't already have it, you might look for a cheaper image editing software program that can do most of these basic corrections.

For the web, I will overlay my copyright info and save my images as 72 dpi JPEGs. For archiving, though, I save the image at the largest size my camera setting will allow, and save it as a TIFF. JPEGs are fine for web stuff, but not great for archiving because it is a "lossy" image format. This means that every time the JPEG is opened it looses a bit of information, even if it is a large file. For any kind of high quality reproduction (such as giclee prints), the best option is to have the painting professionally scanned or photographed at a very high resolution.

Slideshow demo: Provence cafe painting start to finish

While I diligently documented the progress of my latest Provence painting, I was remiss in posting about it here on the blog. So to make up for it, here is a short demo that shows the development. The painting is of an al fresco lunchtime scene in the lovely French village of Roussillon. To see a the slideshow (with captions), click here:

 

"Dejeuner a Roussillon", Oil on Canvas, 36x24". Click here for details about the painting.

On the easel- Provence outdoor cafe painting WIP

After spending so much time painting small pieces, it is nice to be working on something large again. This is the beginning stage of a 36x24" oil painting of an outdoor cafe in the Provencial village of Rousillon. I painted a small study of this scene some time ago and I have been wanting to create a larger version for a while.

Even as a full time, near daily painter, it's always a little scary posting a work-in-progress because I don't exactly know how it will turn out. I have a pretty good idea, but from time to time  a painting may not come into fruition in the way that I expect. But, that's all part of making art, I suppose-- a little trial and error, and a lot of practice.

It might be a little hard to tell what's going on at this stage, but what I'm painting is a village square with lunchtime diners seated at umbrella-covered cafe tables. I've started in my typical manner of putting down my design with a light wash of ultramarine blue and cad. red light or permanent alizarin, thinned way down with mineral spirits. I'm drawing with brushes, but also just with a rag, wiping in and rubbing out as I develop the composition.

While I'm still keeping it pretty light and loose, with architectural scenes I do a bit more drawing and shading than I might with pure landscape. This does not mean that my compositional decisions are done, however. Sometimes I will make changes, shift, add or subtract things as I am further along in the painting process. But I've gotten a good start and I'm ready to jump in!

*UPDATE: See the progression of this painting demonstration from start to finish here!

Last chance to see JMW Turner show in D.C.

Over the holidays I finally seized the opportunity to head up to the National Gallery in Washington D.C. for the Turner show.  This traveling exhibition is a rare opportunity to see some 140 works by a true master of landscape painting (and, I might add, great-grandfather of abstraction). The show was wonderfully comprehensive, and featured so many of his larger scaled oil paintings as well as his intimate watercolors. It's probably an understatement to say that Turner seemed an interesting guy. His work showed a passionate interest in depicting disasters (caused both by nature and by man) in powerful compositions of dramatic color and light.  In painting after painting, one sees snow storms, shipwrecks, thunder, and fire swirling with emotion. The man must have been exhausted! I am not overly fond of the strong narrative element in many of his paintings, but even so, there is much to see and appreciate in these works. Turner was an artist concerned with social and political injustices both past and present and used narrative elements (both visually and in some of his ridiculously long painting titles) to make his points. He had some statements to make, that's for sure.

Turner started out as an architectural draftsman, and mastered drawing at an early age. This was quite evident in his beautiful paintings of Rome and Venice (pictured above). And while paintings of pure landscape were minimal, there were more sublime pieces as well, where the narrative was limited and light was the subject. Some of my favorites of the larger oils were labeled as "studies" or "unfinished". I loved the way these were so fresh and stripped down to their simplified essence of light and color. He was a precursor to the Impressionists and truly ahead of his time. As explained in NGA exhibition supporting materials, these "incomplete" works were just that, and probably not meant for exhibition, but as preparations for "finished" paintings to present to collectors and the Academy. But we can appreciate them with our modern sensibility as works of art in their own right, as well as for their wonderful documentation of this artist's processes.

While the oils were undeniably impressive and painted with skill and bravura, I personally found greatest delight in his watercolors. These just blew me away. Works ranged from highly finished watercolors with a lot of detail  and drawing, to quick expressive sketches (near abstractions) from his sketchbooks.

If you're anywhere near D.C., you can catch this extraordinary show at the National Gallery's West building through January 6th, 2008 . Check out this cool online exhibition preview at the NGA's website! Next stops for the exhibition are Dallas and New York.