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.
With so much going on this week, I have to get out pretty early in the morning to have time to do any painting at all, let alone blog about it. But it was really beautiful this morning at the park. I left the house at around 7:15 a.m. to do a little plein air painting, and the light was still low, soft and luminous. Here is the result of my morning's effort--another one of these backlit little islands on the water:
"Dawning" Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard, 8x10" Click here for more info.
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.
In spite of the tremendous summer storms we've had lately, I've managed to get out for a a plein air painting session at another of our local parks along the James River:
"Afternoon at Pumphouse Park"
Oil on Canvas, 9x12"
Click here for more info.
Pumphouse Park, which once generated drinking water for the city of Richmond, is the site of a large and very interesting neo-gothic stone pump house that has now fallen into disuse and disrepair. But word has it that volunteers are gradually restoring it so that one day it can be used again for something. According to the Discover Richmond website it was quite a social center at one time:
"In the heyday of the Pump House, debutantes dressed in Victorian-era hoop skirts glided with their dates on the pine dance floor of an elegant open-air ballroom overlooking the gentle rapids of the James River."
The park sits just behind the "nickel bridge" (which I believe now has a toll of 50 cents, so you can tell how long I've lived here!) It runs along the James River, and it would have been a nice access point to paint the sunset. But I couldn't find any public river access here. The only thing I found was a path that was barred by a chained fence and a posted sign reading "Property of CSX". Access denied! Grrr. I would have been pretty grumpy about the whole situation except that just as I turned back towards the pump house I saw a bunny! 
 After a summer break (of sorts) I'm getting back to a more regular painting schedule this week. To kick it off, I'll share a little plein air painting I did last Thursday at James River. I painted this at the foot of the Lee Bridge, near the entrance to Belle Isle section of the James River Park System in my town, Richmond, VA.Â
"Rambling River"
Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard, 6x12"
It was really a beautiful evening last Thursday, but it was also incredibly windy. I had packed my lighter plein air painting setup with the intention of backpacking it across the footbridge over to Belle Isle to do some afternoon painting. But from past experience, I was afraid that the wind would have blown my nifty little lightweight pochade setup completely away. So I decided to save myself the aggravation and instead went back to my studio to get my sturdier Soltek. Whatever problems I've had with this easel, it stands up great against the wind. But just to be safe, I returned to set up near a bank of trees on the "mainland", giving me a little bit more shelter.
All of this meant that I got started later, but as it turned out, the timing was just right--The light was just beautiful and turned the river rocks a beautiful rosy gold . Dinner could wait (apologies to the D.H.!)
Being heavily immersed in summer activities I'm afraid I've kind of fallen off the blog wagon lately. But things have been happening behind the scenes, and I'd thought I'd share a few interesting tidbits of what's coming down the pike.
I'm excited to have the opportunity to take a group there myself, for 10 days of painting, touring, eating, and just soaking in the atmosphere. Dates are June 3-13, 2009. This year during that time period I had word from the workshop host that the poppies were in full bloom and the roses were going crazy in the garden. I'm preparing my brochure now and should have it up on my website by next week. If you have an interest in joining me for this wonderful creative adventure, please check back, or just contact me and I'll send you a brochure with all the details as soon it's done
I've been taking some time off to deal with matters at home these last few, but I still have a few paintings to share from my France trip. If you've spent any time on my website, you might have noticed that this little plein air is a subject that is a familiar to me--poppies! In they south of France they are seen profusely in springtime. But, as with sunflowers and lavender, there is no precise way of knowing just when they will be in bloom. Sometimes the sunflowers come "early", or the lavender "late". Or sometimes any one of these flowers can be plowed over (in the case of poppies) or harvested by some farmer. (The nerve!)Â
Our group got lucky. It had been an unusually cold, wet spring up until just before we had arrived, and there were few to no poppy fields in sight. I was pretty okay with it, having painted them quite often (not to mention that we had no shortage of beautiful scenes to paint!) But most of the group seemed to have their heart set on it, and I was a little worried that they might be disappointed.
But we were lucky, not only because nature, at last, decided to cooperate, but also because the folks at Le Vieux Couvent remained on the lookout for our perfect field of poppies. And boy, did they find it--complete with two charming little cabins (cabineaux) set against a mountain backdrop. It may have been one of the prettiest poppy fields I've seen to date....or maybe the thrill of the others was just very catching. Here's my little plein air from that afternoon, painted around 5 PM or so.
"Dusk in the Lot Valley"
Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard, 6x12"
Click here for more info.
And a couple of gratuitous shots of us in the poppy fields:
Now that we're really getting into the summer weather here, I'm starting to see my gardens taking shape. For the beds alongside my house, I'm slowly building an herb and butterfly garden. Budget restraints required that I experiment with starting from seed for a few things, but mostly I just started from very tiny plants and mixed in a few summer bulbs. Gardening is a pretty new pastime for me, so believe me, every new growth or flower is a triumph.
In Virginia, if you dig deep enough, you will soon hit clay, which makes building any kind of new bed a bit of a chore, as you really have to work in a lot of good loose topsoil, soil conditioner, and fertilizer to make the plants take to it kindly. It kind of makes me shake my head a little when I visit places like the south of France. Roses practically grow out of the cracks of the sidewalks there! Okay, the gardeners there do have do deal with the rocks (and a lot of them) so I guess we all have our gardening challenges.
The old French country convent where I stayed had a labyrinth of beautiful gardens. I believe the current owners have had the place for a little over 10 years, and while they started with a property that had "good bones", all of the gardens were as a result of their own sweat and muscle. The gardens were set out like little outdoor sanctuaries, and there was something to discover in every nook and cranny of the property.
To the painter's eye, there were a thousand possibilities just within the confines of Le Vieux Couvent itself. But I was drawn particularly to the little goldfish pond out back.So apparently was one of the resident cats, "Portia". With so much touring, I didn't really have much time to paint on the grounds of the property, but I did do this little watercolor sketch of Portia by the pond one morning before we set off on another excursion:
My layout was such that I couldn't quite get in the pond itself. But I came back one morning after the group from the "artist retreat" left,  and painted a more close-up view again in oils:
"Bassin à  Poisson Rouge" (The Goldfish Pond)
Oil on Linen, 11x14"
Click here for more info.
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.
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.
In this area of southern France, we noticed small tower-like structures that sat alone, apart from the other buildings on the farmland. These were the "pigeonniers", or pigeon houses. Apparently the tower formation is a feudal symbol of nobility, and at one time, only the nobles could have pigeonniers on their land. It seemed a little odd to have such a beautifully made and permanent stone structure just to house some pigeons, but the birds were quite important in this society. Their eggs and young are prized for the meat, their droppings used for excellent fertilizer on the farm, and of course, they were used as messenger birds since antiquity, and even up until World War II. There are also tons of stones and rocks in the earth, so it makes sense to use them towards these structures and clear the land for farming.
This pigeonnier was just down the street from Le Vieux Couvent, and I found it to be most beautiful in the early light of morning or in the golden light of dusk. I painted this one late in the afternoon just as the sky was starting to take on that warm glow:
"Le Pigeonnier"
Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x12"
It's hard to single out just one favorite day from this French plein air painting trip, but at the top of the list was a visit to the large open air market in the town of Cahors.
This town had a fabulous "true" market, not overrun with souvenir vendors hawking chatchkeys. There were linens and other household items (table cloths and such--I indulged in a couple of these!) But this market, while lively and bustling (and quite extensive) was largely there to service the residents of the city. The air was full of all kinds of armoas from the display carts of meats, cheeses, fresh fruit, veggies oils, soaps and herbs. And oh the flowers!
Being a fool for color, I set up in front of a vibrant flower stand set against the backdrop of a lovely old church. We only had about an hour once we set up and started painting, so I just tried as best I could to put down notes of color and value patterns as I saw them. By the time we had to pack up to leave, I'd gotten much of the work done. Here it is, nearly finished, once I got back to the studio:
"The Flower Stand, Cahors Market, (France)"
Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard
I will work on this just a little more, perhaps to resolve the group of buildings to the right (perhaps!) Surprisingly the most difficult part of this painting for me was the little dog (lower right). I'm not sure why, but he kept turning out looking like a furry blonde pig, so I may try to adjust him somewhat as well. Meanwhile, contact me if you have an interest in knowing more about this piece.
Like the first painting I posted from this little travel log, this was another challenging scene to paint, not only because of the complicated and constantly moving subject matter, but because folks really wanted to chat. Again, we as a group attracted many onlookers and inquisitors. It's always hard to talk, focus, think and paint at the same time, but to do that while also struggling to communicate intelligently with my schoolgirl French doubled the challenge!
Any way, it was fun. And while I may not have been able to finish this painting on site, the experience of talking and laughing with these lovely people while they welcomed us graciously and appreciated our paintings more than made up for that. It was another wonderful memory that was well worth the trade-off.
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.
Time was of the essence during this painting holiday. While not overrun with museums, there are so many living, breathing, and lovely places to experience in this area. What I mean by that is that this region is considered by many to be "La France Profonde". What I mean by THAT is that the Lot and the Dordogne embody so many of the characteristics of what one would think of as truly and profoundly French. The production of their food and wine, farming, and, well, their manner of living, is still very much practiced in traditional ways. Yes, there is a lot to see, (chateaux, winding and ambling river valleys, lovely medieval villages, and of course French markets and shops). But this is a place to be experienced.
There were a thousand potential paintings right around the old convent where we stayed. So to make the most of our time, we decided to paint the sunrise. We got up extra early and headed out to paint a lovely sheep pasture that had been spotted by a the "early morning walkers" in our group. Only, there was no sun to be seen. Instead, (and even better) there was the most beautiful soft fog lifting off of the grass:
Work in Progress (as yet untitled)
Oil on Linen, 11x14"
When we set up to paint, we had a couple of dilemmas. The sheep were in the neighboring pasture. But who could resist painting this little chateau? No problem. We'll just paint the chateau and move to the next pasture to add the sheep. (Hey, that's the beauty of being an artist, right?)Â
The other challenge was the that we knew this etherial effect of fog would soon burn off, so we had to work quickly to capture what we saw as best we could, alla prima. Actually, the opposite happened. Instead of lifting off, the fog actually settled in thicker, nearly obscuring the upper part of the hillside trees.
This was as far as I got. It's almost there but I feel there are some areas that need to be resolved, like the foreground and the area just above the chateau. I'd also like to develop a bit more surface texture. The trick will be not to lose the freshness that is so characteristic of plein air painting. We'll see.
In any event, one bonus for us is that the sheep actually (eventually) decided to head over to the pasture with the chateau. Those critters can move, so you never know which way they're going to head. But we got lucky. Merci les moutons!
Just before I left for France my dear friends Jack and Mikki sent me some wonderful books on travel sketching. My favorite from the group is Artist En Route
I brought a 5x8" moleskine journal with me, which fit nicely into my carryall bag. Never one to be without as many options as possible, I chose the notebook that would accept watercolors (though most of my sketches were pen and ink.) Here's one with my notes of the Abbey I blogged about yesterday:
Most of these were just quick little jots, but the journal really helped me to lock in the memories in place, and keep track of the places we visited in sequential order. So many times on action packed trips like these, all of the memories start to blend together after a while, so I really recommend this combination of traveling, sketching and journaling.Â
On the same day that we visited Abbaye Nouvelle, we also visited the village of Beynac (in the Dordogne), with its fascinating 12th century chateau perched atop dramatic limestone cliffs. Only time for a quick sketch for this part of the itinerary, which I did after our picnic lunch by the river bank. We are steeped deep into Medieval history here; this castle is where Richard the Lionheart met his death!
***And now, we interrupt this art travel log for a quick brag ;-). There is a fine new oil painter in the Young family, and she's got a blog! Check out my very talented niece, Molly Young and her Daily Painting blog. 
Molly came all the way up from Texas to take my April workshop this past spring, and I got the chance to see her talent in person. I wish I could say I had something to do with it, but she's been cutting her own path for a while now and IÂ look forward to seeing where she takes it. Her blog is brand new, but she's been painting for a couple of years, and she's a quick study to boot.
The fruit trees of early spring were all abloom while Molly was here visiting, and we took advantage of it by heading up to Monticello for a quick visit. Here's a shot of the two of us at Monticello:
Â
Molly's got some wonderful new paintings from that visit on her blog. Here's one of my faves.
I am one week back from a most inspiring painting holiday to southern France, and over the next while I'll be posting pictures of my paintings and sketches from my journal, as well as a few photos highlighting my trip. I've returned to lovely weather here in Virginia as well, so my travel posts will likely be interspersed with other art-related posts as I gear up for a summer of plein air painting. I'll start with my favorite painting from this trip (though I may need to reshoot as the greens are looking a little "off" in this image). This is a plein air painting looking upward towards the ruins of a 13th century abbey, ironically named "Abbaye Nouvelle" (New Abbey). I and the other artists on the trip were so fortunate to be able to paint at the abbey during the time of their annual plant and flower festival. It was a lively scene with a stunningly beautiful backdrop. It was also quite a challenge painting there, not only due to the light shifting in and out behind the clouds, but also due to the inquisitive passers-by. We attracted quite a few onlookers, and all were very complimentary and encouraging:
"Fete des Plantes, Abbaye Nouvelle"
Oil on linen, 9x12"
This was really an investigative trip for me. I have been invited to conduct a painting workshop at a beautiful site in the Lot region, so I thought it would be worthwhile for me to travel there in advance to meet the hosts and get a sense for what they did. I also really wanted to go back to France, so this was a good excuse ;-)
Exterior of my "home" during my 10 day painting holiday.
The setting was idyllic. Le Vieux Couvent is an old convent that has been converted to gites and B&B style rooms, with lovely gardens AND a large art studio to boot. The session I chose for my visit was led by plein air painter Mary Pettis, and it was billed as an "alla prima artist's retreat". It appealed to me not only because I liked Mary's paintings, but also because it seemed geared more towards experienced artists interested in painting, sharing, and touring together--perhaps not requiring as much instruction as what would be expected in a "how to" type class. Mary did do one demo, however, and offered plenty of feedback and great tips during our time together. I admit I did not know of Mary before this retreat, but she is a very fine painter and a lovely person who is very knowledgeable and generous with her thoughts and ideas.
This particular retreat was for 8 days, so considering time for arrivals and departures, there were 6 days for actual painting and touring. Given the way I like to travel, this is a pretty short overseas trip for me, so I couldn't resist tacking on a few days after the retreat was over so that I could rent a car to sketch and tour on my own. I was glad I did. I can never seem to predict how I'll do with the jetlag, and it took me a couple of days on both ends of the trip to get fully back into the swing!
Stay tuned for additional posts about my trip. I'm still going through all of my pictures, my journal, etc., and have plans for plenty more pics and posts detailing my experiences at this beautiful location. Speaking of details, I'm also working out the details for a painting workshop of my own at this location, hopefully in late spring/early summer of next year. More info to come, but in the meantime, please contact me directly if you're interested in joining me for a France workshop in '09!
As I set out to answer a few questions about traveling with paint from fellow painter Marilyn King, I realized the length of my response was worthy of its own blog post! So Marilyn, thanks for the assignment! :-) There are a million different approaches, a million different solutions; but here are some ideas: Oil paints; Lighten the load!
While it is more economical to use larger 150 ml tubes, I generally save them for use in the studio. (In fact, for my white and some other colors, I buy in even larger quantities --either in cans or in caulking guns.)  But if you're using a double primary palette en plein air, lugging big tubes of each color can get a little weighty! For this reason, I keep a set of smaller tubes for plein air painting. I generally carry one large 150 ml white out on the field and smaller tubes of the other colors. A couple of other options:
Yes, but what about flying with oils?
For flying, here are some solutions I've gleaned from others and from trial and error:
 Medium or no medium?
 Often times I don't even use a medium for plein air painting because it seems like even with just a little bit of breeze, any kind of alkyd medium gets a "skin" before I can even use it. However, there are times when it is handy; especially if I want to try and hasten the drying time of my paintings.
This whole week I've been walking around telling myself that I was leaving for France in two weeks. What I realized today is that I'm actually leaving in a week. Ack! :-0 Yes, I have been known to fall down the worm-hole of time unless I am stringent about staying on a schedule. Many distractions at home have gotten me off of that lately, and here I am wondering where the time went! So since I've nothing much to say about the all the new work I've not done lately, I thought I'd still at least post something useful about traveling with art materials. I've written about this before, but it always seems to take me off guard when I actually have to get down to deciding what I'll take and what I'll leave behind. I'll be traveling to a very rural part of France , (okay, so it's not the jungle! But art supply stores are generally hard to come by in the countryside), so I really want to try not to be in a position of "need' when it comes to my supplies and my gear.
At the same time, I can't pack "everything but the kitchen sink", because for this trip I will be traveling solo to and from my destination. My husband, who named himself "Le Pack Mule" during our travels abroad, is sitting this one out (I can't imagine why? ;-) ) This means I have to be able to carry everything without relying on batting eyelashes for assistance. I haven't fleshed out my complete supply list, but my obvious "must haves" are also the things that can cause the most weight-- the easel and the painting substrates. Since it's been pointed out to me that I've spent so much time lately talking about easels, I'll mix it up by addressing the substrates:
Lightweight but still archival
I'll be painting on location for anywhere from 7 to 10 days. I really have no idea of an exact itinerary, but I always try and plan for the max. It is certainly possible to buy canvases overseas, (Hello? France? Home of the Impressionists!) but the problem is that since we've never gotten on board with the metric system here in the U.S., I'd have to deal with custom framing each non-standard canvas once I got back home.
Canvas mounted on lightweight panel is a better option for travel than bulkier stretched canvas. In the past I've used birchboard. It's lightweight and compact compared to many other hardboard options (masonite, plywood, etc.), but if I consider that I may be painting two to four canvases each day, that's a whole lot of birch and the weight and volueme adds up fast.
Gatorfoam (gatorboard) is a great option, in that it is offered in archival form and is also one of the lightest supports available. It is basically a very, very strong foamcore board, offered in a variety of thicknesses.
 
Picture framers often use Gatorboard, and this is what a lot of plein air painters use as a support for primed linen or canvas. Cheap Joe's and other art supply stores sell various size sheets,  and there are also companies that specialize in making panels of this material. But even if you make your own panels with this material, it can be pretty expensive when you start to consider any amount of quantity, and then there is the bulk of carting it all overseas.
One of the newer materials on the market is Coroplast. Coroplast is essentially corrugated plastic, and like Gatorfoam, it is extremely lightweight. However, while not as inexpensive as plywood, Coroplast is more economical than the Gator.
 
Interestingly Coroplast seems also to be getting the archival nod, and a conservator for the National Gallery of Art has noted that it is virtually inert in terms of interference with the substrate. I've also found references to the use of Coroplast on art and museum conservator sites for packing and storing fine art. The biggest beef with Coroplast for a plein air panel seems to be the fluted corrugation between the sheets of plastic. The fear from conservators is that over time the canvas, if mounted directly onto Coroplast without an intermediate barrier, would adopt this same fluting texture.
...Enter Multimedia Artboard
Multimedia Artboard is another somewhat new material, designed to be an archival substrate for a variety of media from watercolor to acrylic to oil. I've seen several references to the use of this product by traveling plein air painters. This board is made of paper and epoxy resin and unlike canvas, it is rigid but extremely thin and lightweight:
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It has a smooth side and a textured side, both of which can be painted on. For oil painting, the common practice seems to be to gesso the board for a less absorbant surface ( though the company claims compatibility with oils without gessoing) and then clamp, mount, or to tape it to a larger piece of coroplast or gatorboard for painting on site. Since this surface is pretty thin, it would need to be backed or mounted to some kind of board with an archival, reversable adhesive before framing.
I've ordered some of this Multimedia Artboard and have a funny story about it that I'll save for another time. I had hoped to experiment a lot with this material prior to my departure, but given my current life pattern this may not happen! So here's the plan: I'm taking a number of pieces of gessoed MMAB as well as pre-primed linen in various sizes; all of which I will tape or clamp temporaily to a larger firm support of Coroplast on location. (I'm going for the Coroplast because it won't dent if clamped- Gatorfoam might.) Any painting could then be backed or mounted in a more permanent way if I want to frame it up at home.
Supplies:
Don't feel like doing it youself back home? You can get prepared lightweight panels from commercial sources. Here are just a few:
Raymar (not as light as other options, but less costly and still much lighter than plywood. BTW- makes great, lightweight wet panel carriers out of --you guessed it! Coroplast!)
While trolling through the Slow Travel forums for my upcoming trip to France, I stumbled across this tip on a new upcoming PBS art series on landscape painting hosted by artist David Dunlop. Here's an excerpt from the PBS website:
"LANDSCAPES THROUGH TIME WITH DAVID DUNLOP -- a lively and entertaining new 13-part PBS series shot in HD -- offers viewers the opportunity to travel with noted painter and lecturer David Dunlop to magical, historic locations in the United States and France as he follows the lives and artistic paths of celebrated artists such as Turner and Monet. Dunlop journeys to the locations these artists visited and learns how they transformed their vision into a familiar painting. "
PBS always does a wonderful job with its art series, so I hope this one broadcasts in my area. It's set to air in June, which will be just on the heels of having returned from my own France landscape painting trip. You can read all about the program  here, but you'll probably have to just check back in at viewing schedule as they only list schedules 13 days out.
In the evenings, my husband and I love walking through our Bellevue neighborhood, and we try to do it most days that our schedules and the weather will allow. There are a lot of avid gardeners in our 'hood, and in spring it seems like every nook and corner has a touch of color. The other evening we took a back alley detour and came upon this scene. It was striking in the light of dusk as the building and the irises were backlit. I came back in the morning to see if I still found interest, and I did. It was a different light, to be sure. But there was a certain pattern that played across the path and fence that I liked enough to do this little pochade.
"Color Surprise"
Oil on Canvas, 6x8"
If you've looked around my website you might notice that I have a thing for sheds. I guess I like the simplicity of the form, and the interesting texture of the walls and rooftops (the more decrepit the better.) I've sure painted my share of the French Provencial versions; called "cabaneaux" en Francais.
Call me crazy but I also have a thing for certain alleys. They can be kind of a "grab bag" though-- I don't always see (or smell) the most pleasant things. But sometimes when people let their private gardens spill over into the walkways I can find quite a surprise of color.
Three days of rain has given way to sun, so I finally had an opportunity to photograph a little plein air painting I did last week at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden in Richmond.
"Golden Veil"
10"x8", Oil on Canvas
As the painting was in progress, a member of the garden staff told me that this little rose arbor is the setting for many a bridal portrait at the garden, so I thought I'd given it an appropriate title.
This was one of those hazy mornings when the sun was playing peek-a-boo behind cloud cover, giving off a cool, soft light. The result was a rather soft-focused, romantic effect. Then again, maybe I just had "bride" on the brain!Â
Art gallery of European and American landscape and still life oil paintings by Virginia artist Jennifer E. Young. Jennifer's plein air and studio paintings celebrate her love of color and the natural world. Her work has been exhibited and collected internationally.
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