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.

Dueling Brushes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

Annapolis Day 2- A fine morning with guidance from Gruppe

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

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

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

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

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

"...students 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!

A good day in Annapolis

My first full day in Annapolis had a slow start, but in the end I got two and a half, maybe three little pieces done. I say *maybe* three, because the last one was just as the sun was setting over the town and night fell before I could really asess the work. But I'm jumping ahead. Annapolis is a charming little town, and the weather has been ideal. As lovely as the day began, I spent a good deal of time this morning wandering around with my gear in tow. For some reason I couldn't decide what to paint. Maybe I was overloaded by too much stimuli. Or maybe I was a little road weary...who knows? In any event, eventually I did settle down, and started with a street scene of  a sweet little church on the south side of Annapolis, in the sectoin of town called Eastport:

 

"First Baptist Church of Eastport" Oil on Board 8"x6"

Because of my late start, it was approaching lunchtime when I finished. So I thought it would be a good time to take a break and check out the rest of the Paint Annapolis event before I set up for another painting.  I was a little disappointed that I didn't see more painters out and about. I know they were there, but they must have been pretty well spread around Annapolis because I only came across a few the whole day. I imagine many of the juried artists were off on some quiet street somewhere away from the tourists so they could get some serious painting done. As for the others in the MAPAPA, most were nowhere to be seen; even though by the looks of the sign-in sheet, I know they had "checked in" at the information center.

I am hopeful that I'll run into more painters tomorrow. But for today, rather than drag my gear around endlessly for blocks on end, I abandoned my search and decided to set up for another painting. The light was getting really lovely and I found a nice, shady, quiet spot at the end of Shipright Street:

"Harbor View, Annapolis (Shipright Street)" Oil on board 9x12"

This photo really washes out my sky, but it was turning that lovely warm tone of late afternoon, and the clouds were taking on a beautiful soft pink glow. Until I can get this painting home to adjust the colors and edit out the little knobs of the canvas holders from my easel, you'll just have to use your imagination! This little scene shows the view looking out towards a little harbor on Spa Creek, and the red drawbridge that connects the historic center with the small maritime republic of Eastport. The historic center is lovely, but I rather prefer crossing the bridge to quieter section of Eastport. There is much to attract-- the quiet, charming streets and all of the smaller harbors that allow many lovely views of the water.

With painting #2 complete, I thought I was done for the day. So I packed up to head back to the hotel. But on my way back to the parking lot, I was struck by the last pink light of the setting sun over the historic town. I whipped out another canvas and started what I thought was to be a small sunset painting. However, the sky changed soooo quickly that soon I was painting a nocturne. Even though my canvas was small, (8x8") it soon became impossible to see anything in the dark as I had no street light nearby to help me in my task. It will be like looking into a Christmas stocking tomorrow morning when I go to the car to take a look at the painting in the daylight. Even so, I may yet pull out a lump of coal. We will have to see!

Paint Annapolis

Haven't gotten a whole lot of painting done in the last few days, but hope to remedy that this weekend in Annapolis. I'm going up to participate in the Mid Atlantic Plein Air Painters Association paint-out that is running concurrently with the Paint Annapolis competition.  Paint Annapolis is an annual juried competition, also spearheaded by the MAPAPA. 30 artists who have been selected by a jurying process compete for prizes by painting en plein air over a long weekend around the historic section of town near the harbor. I have not been one to apply for many competitions and I missed the deadline to apply for this one. Up to now, I guess competitions haven't really been on my radar. I don't really consider myself to be competitive in nature and the thought of "performance painting" just seemed like more stress than fun. On the other hand, aside from the opportunities they offer, there is a lot to be said for immersing yourself in a community that is welcoming to artists, where the focus is just painting, painting, painting.

There is certain energy you get from working with other artists in a group setting that encourages and inspires, and makes you want to do more and do better. That is the experience I have had with workshops, whether I've been leading them or taking them. And while accolades and prizes are nice, I suspect this is the real appeal to the paint outs and competitions for many plein air painters too.

This is what I had in mind when I registered for the paint out. Since up to now I've been a pretty inactive member of the MAPAPA, I figured this would give me a chance to do something with the group, as well as to see what the Paint Annapolis event is like from the inside, without the added pressure of competing. I also love Annapolis and have always wanted to go and paint there. I am supposed to have free high speed Internet access at my hotel, so if all goes well, I will blog about my experience while I'm there.

The weather is looking promising, and I'm excited about the trip. Still, the event probably couldn't come at a worse time for me personally. Moving time is fast approaching, and next week we start breaking ground for the new studio! I told my husband that I couldn't believe I was going to Annapolis with all that we have going on. "I really think I am going insane," I said. He had one word in reply, "...Going?"

Chore avoidance via a Tuscany landscape painting

Back home this week to face the music (which in this case is my studio move.)  As I'm going through the painfully boring task of packing up my studio, I'm coming across a few unfinished paintings. I'm ususally pretty disciplined, but I think between the overseas travel in the spring, working endlessly on plans for a new studio, and doing as much plein air painting as I can this summer, I've gotten distracted enough to leave partially-finished works lying in my wake. Here's one of them, now complete, of a sweet little vista of sunflowers and the Italian countryside :

"Tuscan Fields*" Oil on Canvas, 11x14"

It was fun finishing up this little piece, and I'm not sure why I shelved it for so long, especially since it's relatively small. But if I had to guess, I'd say that I find starting paintings more fun than finishing them. That fact coupled with the general craziness of my schedule has meant that lately some paintings have fallen through the cracks.

Overall my track record has been pretty good though, and I do finish quite a few. But it's time to show some reslove and either finish up some of these "W.I.P.'s" or throw them out. Ah, who am I kidding? It's not as much "resolve" as it is chore avoidance. Whether it's starting or finishing, painting is still a whole a lot more fun than packing!

*p.s. When I went to title this piece my mind drew a complete blank. I'm sure there's a better title than "Tuscan Fields" but it was the best I could come up with. Any ideas? If so, feel free to leave them in the comment area!

Plein air painting in Hatteras -"Last Stroll, Twilight"

Well, we're packing up early in the wake of hurricane Hannah. There is no real danger expected here on Hatteras, but since we're losing a beach day and were scheduled to leave by 10 a.m. tomorrow any way, we figured we'd get ahead of whatever storm remains and avoid loading the car in the rain. Makes me all the happier that I stayed late on the beach last night to watch the beautiful show on display in the twilight sky:

Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x12" "Last Stroll, Twilight"

This late evening light is my absolute favorite time to be out painting en plein air. The challenge is that the light changes very quickly. So really, I just concerned myself with capturing the essence of the scene- the beautiful warmth of the sky and sand, the soft violet haze that ran along the distant horizon, and the silhouette of the line of beach houses beyond the dunes. What a nice way to end a beautiful week.

Summer Reading

My husband saw this little painting I did of our friends and said "Very Mary Cassat".  Sweet of him to say, and yes, I'd certainly aspire to paint like her! But I think the Cassat reference had more to do with my painting on the beach than anything else. I've often wanted to paint on the shore the way the Impressionists once did, but always felt somewhat restricted due to the total lack of shade and the sensitivity of my fair skin. This year, however, it has been possible because we've borrowed a large 12x12' canopy from our sister and brother-in-law. Otherwise I've had fried in my first 30 minutes on the beach!

The canopy allowed me to set up my easel and caputre this little vignette of our friends Esther and Carrie, engrossed in their summer reading:

"Summer Reading" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x6" (NFS)

This painting was done on Multimedia Artboard. I painted straight on an unprimed surface, and I must say I prefer this surface primed with a layer of gesso for oils. While I was able to build the surface texture up after a bit, I found the board too absorbant without any gesso. Any way, after a bit, it was fun. I felt particularly good about the piece since Esther (the one with the dark hair) got up in the middle of the painting to go surfing.  She was a good sport, but still her vacation wouldn't suffer for my art.

Hatteras Pier

It's been absolutely beautiful here in Hatteras. I've done more relaxing and eating than anything. But after watching a most gorgeous sunrise with my husband, I finally decided to get the paints out yesterday and do a little something down by the Hatteras Pier:

"Hatteras Pier, Morning" Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard 6x12"

This pier looks like it needs some serious repair, but the rickety state of it made for fun painting. Now back to doing nothing! :-)

Vacation time and odds and ends

We're heading to the beach for a week for a little much needed R&R. I'll be bringing my paints and my laptop with me, but I have no idea if I'll have good internet access there for blogging. In any event, this will be a "painting and blogging optional" trip so it may be kind of quiet here on the blog for a few days.  Once we return I'll start the serious packing for the studio move. And not long after, we can hopefully get started on building me a place to eventually move to!  I've been pretty quiet about the potential project of building a home studio lately, because writing about waiting for this or that contractor to call us back with a quote doesn't really make for very interesting writing! But finally, we've gotten some quotes and the survey has been completed. So since we have enough info to feel secure that we can actually build on the proposed site we've just submitted an application for a building permit.

It's been a lot of "hurry up and wait." If we get our permit without  a hitch, I'll share more about the actual plans and process. All I can say right now is that everything I've heard about these things taking a lot longer than expected has definitely been true in my case--especially since we haven't even begun to level the ground.  

Ah well, at least we have had some progress. As for the Outer Banks, the weather looks a little "iffy" right now, but they're calling for sunshine by Monday (I hope!) In any event, while I know I'll be fine no matter what, the best part of this vacation will be taking some time off from worrying about this stuff.

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.

"Rooted"- Plein air on the James River

A few days ago I picked up a copy of a map of the James River by Richmond Times Dispatch artist Tom Roberts . The map focuses on highlights of the river around central Richmond, with information on plants and wildlife, as well as info on trails, parking, and scenic views. The cool thing about it is that it's printed on Tyvek, so it's waterproof! It's not, however, paint-proof, though it cleans off fairly easily ;-) I'm so glad to have a map like this made available, and I'm using it as a guide for a James River series of plein air paintings, as I find the opportunity. I painted this piece on location at a point along the river near a site called "The Wetlands":

"Rooted" Oil on Linen, 9x12"

I'd visited the Pony Pasture location that's nearby before, but not this particular point, and thought it seemed interesting on the map. Unfortunately The Wetlands weren't wet at all as I'd imagined them to be. I'm not sure what they're normally like, but we do really need some rain and there wasn't even a puddle in sight in this drought.

Undeterred, I continued down to the riverbank. The river was also very low (and as a result, mildly, er, "aromatic" depending on the wind shift.) But I became interested in the light and the diagonals of the trees and the rocks, as well as the twisted tree roots clinging to the river's edge; so I decided to give it a whirl.

I really enjoyed painting down by the James. There were herons, canadian geese, and lots of butterflies to keep me company. There was also the occaisional dog chasing flying sticks and a crew or two of kayakers paddling by. According to a "tidbit" on my map, the James represents the only white water that cuts through an urban area. We really are lucky to have it, and I hope we will continue to preserve and maintain it so that  "regular folks" like me can have access to it and enjoy its natural beauty.

p.s: Local artists might be interested to know something I've heard from park manager Ralph White. There is a new guide to the James for painters and photographers that is scheduled to come out some time this fall.

Crop happens

....Or at least sometimes it should. I went down by the river at Great Shiplock Park this morning to paint this little view looking out towards Rocketts Landing:

I had a frustrating morning.  

I didn't finish because I began to have problems with the composition. The canvas panel is a 9x12", and while there are things I like about it, I'm not too excited about the near equal width of the sky and water framing the skyline, where the real interest is. 

I think this was an editing problem. I liked too many things about the scene and I was trying to fit them all in. I liked the hazy sky. I liked the purplish skyline. And I liked the reflections in the water too. I guess it just goes to show how very important it is to put a good deal of thought into the orchestration of a piece before rushing in.

Well, we learn from our mistakes, right? So with a little trickery in Photoshop, I am able to see what a better compositional choice may have looked like:

 

Well, I can't exactly glue a new top to this panel. But look what happens when I cut this down to approximately 6x12":

 

Better? My kingdom for a table saw.

Plein air painting tip- protecting your hands.

I'm heading out this morning to do a little plein air painting, so for now I'll post a plein air painting tip. This was a question posed to me by a fellow artist from Texas. My answer follows: Hi Jennifer,

 Came upon your site from a demo you have at EmptyEasel.com.  I have a dumb question but  couldn't find  an answer on your site. You use a blue glove while  painting in some of  the photos. Could you give me the brand name and  do you use them in plein  air? Seems like the ones I am getting do not  last through a painting  session. -G.K. in Texas

Answer: Hi G.K. -

Your question isn't dumb at all. I still have a box of 200 white latex gloves collecting dust because they broke down so easily with oil paints and solvents. What I'm using now are called nitrile gloves.  They're thin and disposable, but hold up well to solvents.  I find if I'm not too messy I can reuse them for another session.

I get the blue ones you've seen in some of my photos at Lowe's or Home Depot in the painting section. I know for sure that Lowe's has them. You might try them out by getting a small pack locally, and then if you like them, you could probably find a better price online, especially if you buy larger quantities. (I also found a great deal on them at Costco, and they were gray, not blue. At Costco they're called "Nitrile Examination Gloves". I don't have large hands, but to be safe, I bought the medium size and I'm glad I did. They fit perfectly--not too tight, not too loose).

As for plein air painting, I use the gloves when I think to pack them! Sometimes though they can be a little much when it's 85-90+ degrees outside. In that case I just can't bear them, as they do make your hands "sweat" in the heat. But wear them if you can stand it. It's really not a good idea to expose your skin to daily paint and solvents.

Here's another idea I learned from fellow plein air painter Mary Pettis, who in turn learned it from painter Jim Wilcox. Dentist's bibs! If you can find them, that is. They have the paper towel properties on one side, and a plastic lining on the other side, so the solvents don't get through to your hands. I have yet to check out our local medical supply place, but intend to do so soon so I can give it a try. Apparently works great, and no sweaty hands en plein air!

Another plein air visit to Ginter Botanical Gardens

We are having such unbelieveably beautiful weather here in Richmond that you'd think it was September instead of mid-August. So yesterday I took a short break from  studio planning to do a little painting. Only really had time for a very quick little 8x10" study, --and an unfinished one at that. But at least I got "out there" for a bit and took a break from all of this building/moving stuff:

Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens has a wonderful feature called the children's garden. Lots of fun activities for the little tykes, and beautiful summer color for the rest of us. The sunflowers are fading but they were still holding on along this garden path. A few more touches are needed to resolve this piece, and I may yet add a figure or two to the path. So I guess this is yet another "work in progress". One day soon I may surprise everyone and finish something ;-)

Summer Garden painting, Bellevue style

This scene is one I've been "stalking" for a few days in the Bellevue neighborhood where I live. I've written before about  my North Richmond 'hood, and how many avid gardners live around here. On another one of our evening walks, we passed this adorable yard with a sunny garden of sunflowers and zinnias, and I knew I wanted to come back by and paint it. I especially liked this scene when the sunflowers were set against the neighboring house, at around 9 - 10 a.m., when the bungalow was mostly in shadow:

"Summer Garden" (painted en plein air) Oil on Board, 8x10"

Your moment of Zen....

Painted yesterday on location at Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens:

"Zen Garden" Oil on Canvas, 12x9" Click here for more info.

I love visiting the botanical gardens so much that I have again bought a membership this year. Can't beat the fact that it's located so close to my neighborhood too. My only complaint is that I wish they opened up at 8 a.m. instead of 9.  Don't they know I have work to do?  ;-)