French pastoral complete, and another in progress

We've had a lot of rain here this fall, and when it's not been raining, I've been trying to manage the parade of contractors who are working on the new studio . Unfortunately this means I've mostly missed the chance to capture the gorgeous fall colors en plein air. Well, it's a worthwhile tradeoff, I think. Meanwhile, I have the consolation of finally having finished a painting:  

 

Pastoral, St. Germain de Bel Air Oil on Canvas, 20x24" Click here for more info.

I'm also just beginning to lay out a new composition, again of the beautiful part of Southwestern France I visited last spring. To you it may just look like a bunch of scribbles. But trust me, I'm sketching out a street view of Frayssinet, the village where I stayed. I'm attracted to the scene for the sheer beauty of the place, but also by the interesting cast shadow pattern of the afternoon light:

WIP- Frayssinet, 24x30"

What I have  done here is just a pretty transparent wash to figure out my composition and the rythm of the shadows. To do this I've used a mixture of Transparent Red Oxide and just a little Ultramarine Blue.  Transparent Red Oxide is the one earth color that has consistently made itself at home on my palette of late, and I'm finding it such a useful addition. For an underpainting it adds a warm glow, but unlike Cadmium Red light, it is beautifully transparent. It also lacks the high staining properties that Alizarin Crimson does so it is easier to make adjustments in the preliminary stages.

WIP- Pasture at dusk, southern France (continued)

The progression continues. Yesterday I developed the painting further, focusing on the foreground cows and building.

 

Why is it my four-legged friends always start out looking like pigs? Maybe I should attempt to paint pigs and see if they look like cows or dogs? Any way, I think I finally got the hang of it and produced some semblance of "cowness".

I'm facing a couple of challenges right now because I'm in between homes and my computer is in a different location from my easel, so timely blogging is a bit impossible. These photos were taken inside earlier in the evening so they are looking a little dark and grainy on my computer. I continued to work on the sky and surrounding trees, pulling it all together. Just a finishing touch or two at the studio today and I'm done, so if I can get a good shot of it outdoors, I should be able to post a final tonight or tomorrow a.m. when I'm back at home. 

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:

Today's Itinerary

1. Vote
2. Paint

Both welcome tasks, and a long time coming! I think all of the activity of moving and rebuilding my business has been the only thing that's saved me from being completely glued to the news, the blogs, and the polls these last few months. So this is a very welcome day. Finally, it's time to vote. Finally (providing I'm not in line for hours on end at the polls) I will also stand in front of the easel again for the first time in a while. Here's hoping and praying that both go smoothly!

Studio progress; moving right along!

We are aiming to largely be out of my current studio by the end of this weekend, so I'm afraid both the blog and the easel may be neglected for the next week or so. I do have a few pictures to post of the progress on my studio though. The builders had a bit of a rough start in the beginning slogging around in the mud due to the pretty heavy rain we had just prior to their arrival. But once the ground started to firm up, things moved much quicker.  Here's the way it came along over the weekend:

By Monday I was able to take a peek inside. Here is the framing for the high windows on the wall of my painting area:

One of the builders, Gene, after a hard day's work. Gene felt my picture needed a center of interest, so he kindly obliged:

This is the portico side as it looked this morning. This side faces the back porch. This area will be my future office area. There is some loft space for storage in the portico above the door.

When I looked outside this A.M. they had pulled out the siding, roofing, doors and windows. Not sure how far they'll get with all of that, but based on the progress so far, I imagine things will look very different by evening's end.

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.

Studio progress; concrete is poured!

We've actually begun the first stages of moving my studio. We spent the weekend moving  my office and carving out a temporary setup at home. Next weekend we'll move my painting stuff and set up the temporary studio at another location. So for a while, my office computer and my studio workspace are going to be separated, which means my blogging is going to be (even more) erratic over the next few weeks as we move and I get used to my new temporary setups. Not an ideal situation, but I rather expected this given the tight timeline we put ourselves on to get the new studio built.

Meanwhile, progress has been made on the studio building. Here are a couple of shots of the foundation:

Forms were set, in preparation for pouring the concrete:

After the concrete was poured they took the forms off:

This morning the concrete guys are finishing up their work, including backfilling and grading the ground, and then we'll be ready for the builder. We've gotten word from the builder that they can be ready to start this week, so long as my special order doors come in. Fingers crossed!

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.

Lean times ahead? Some food for thought (for artists.)

You'd have to live under a rock not to know that economic anxiety is rampant these days. And it looks like what's going down on Wall Street won't leave too many sectors of the economny untouched, including (especially?) those in the arts community. In fact, when the economy and the housing market suffers, the retail outlets and galleries usually follow, and many artists feel the crunch. In my own career I've noticed a slow down for some time. Thankfully my art business hasn't come to a screeching halt, but times are different now than they used to be. And while I realize that there are ebbs and flows in any business, it's easy to look at the news and wonder just how long this current "ebb" will last.  As artists, there is a lot we can do other than wring our hands in worry. On the practical side, we can start by taking a good look at our expenditures, and by streamlining and simplifying, and taking new approaches to creative marketing. It's a positive approach, but it's harder for some people than for others. I, for one, am downsizing by moving my studio. And while this move is also a positive one, it took me a while to feel like it wasn't one of defeat or loss.

Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful and excited about my upcoming new home studio. But for  a while during the lead-up to this decision, I had a lot of angst that in doing so, I was somehow retreating. In essence there was a big part of me that felt like I failed. It felt like I was a failure at my business, but the psychological trickle- down effect was that I had also somehow failed as an artist too. 

After all, it was a mere two years ago that I had my shiny new gallery grand opening, and here I am packing it up again. Perhaps I didn't do enough advertising? Perhaps it wasn't the right location? Or perhaps I just didn't allow myself enough time to get established at the location I was in? On the business side there were many "perhapses".   But on the artistic side I also found myself questioning something much more personal. Perhaps the real reason was that I just wasn't a very good artist. Who am I to think I can make a career out of my art? Who do I think I am? I am the worst artist on the planet.

And so, in spite of all the good that I know is inherent in this move, it hasn't been without a good deal of internal struggle. Logically I know that there are many reasons for the change I'm making, and that the move is more aligned with who I am and who I want to become. Logically I know also that while financially I was not becoming the next Warren Buffett, I was able to pay my bills from my art business, and could foresee no immediate reason why I couldn't continue to do so. And logically I also know that while I can always, always improve my skills, I am probably not the "worst artist on the planet" either. But perhaps the best bit of logic was something my friend Robin said to me over lunch when I was in the throes of my angst-filled decision making process: 

 "Don't be a prisoner of your pride. Sometimes what appears to be backward  movement is actually the way forward. Do what's right for you."

Of course, I believe she was right. And as I observe all of this financial uncertainty on the world stage, I do think that this move will help me to better weather the storm.  

But in addition to physically streamlining my work environment, I've also come to another realization. Works of quality withstand even the harshest times. Artist Robert Genn has made this very point in his most recent post on his inspirational site for artists, The Painter's Keys:

 "Recessions are blessings. Historically, recessions and depressions have been times when "important" work gets made. Realistically, our financial outlay for equipment and art materials (unless your medium is gold) is relatively minor. In hard times artists need to get themselves as debt free as possible and invest in the joy of their vision."

Haven't you noticed that even in the toughest of times there are still those who thrive? And its the artists who have made the wise investments in their craft, their vision, and their voice who set themselves apart in the good times and especially in the bad. So while there's nothing I can do about what's unfolding on Wall Street, I can take advantage of the relative quiet in the art market by focusing even harder on my own craft and vision. Now is the time to experiment and to learn anew, and maybe even come out of all of this as a better artist than I would have been otherwise.

Studio building updates; plus a sale

Well, it looks like the moving schedule madness is now taking hold, so I make no promises of posting many new paintings over the next several days. I have a lot of work ahead of me and a lot of decisions to make as I move out of my current studio space. The new studio will be less than half the size of my current one. This isn't a complaint, mind you (after all the space will be my very own.) But I will have to make the most of the space I have. So in between the packing, I'm prepping for a Studio Moving Sale this coming Friday and Saturday at the gallery.  I'm being pretty ruthless about what I'm allowing myself to hold onto (believe me, no easy task but it must be done.) As a result I'll be offering some great sale prices on selected works from my inventory (mostly older landscapes and plein air studies); plus sale prices on prints,  some picture frames (new, used, and 'scratch and dent') and a few art supplies. If you're in the vicinity come on by and check out the sale. You can read more about it here.

As for our garage/studio building project, rainy weather has slowed our progress a little, but progress is still being made. As I write this, the plumber is making a racket outside the door, trying to get things lined up for the first of several plumbing inspections. I don't have a lot of new "progress" shots to show, but the foundation guys have built the forms (currently protected from the rain by a big tarp.) So once the plumbing passes inspection #1, they can set about pouring the concrete.  

Meanwhile here are some pictures of the plans that have been drawn up by the builder:

Side elevation:

 

I actually think of this as the front, but the builder calls it the side elevation. It's the long part of the building, facing out to our side street. The left end has a little portico/porch that faces the back of the house. At some point I'd like to have a little courtyard patio join the two structures of the house and studio. This side faces roughly east, so I only have windows on the left part. The painting area will be on the right, and I'll probably put some kind of trellis or other tall feature on the exterior to balance the windows at the other end.

Left end elevation:

This is the end with the portico that faces the house. Probably this will be the main door I use to come in and out, though the French doors shown above will be good for loading/unloading from the nearby alley. The portico allows for a loft area on the inside above my office for storage, so that upper window over the porch is just for looks and light.

Floorplan:

This image is a bit hard to read, but here I've overlaid my proposed "room" plan (the furniture/interior wall) on top of the builder's drawing so that I could see how much of my crap I could cram in there ;-)  . Since I seem to have a 2-D brain, it's really hard for me to imagine the actual space until I'm in there. So aside from the painting area (and utility sink) being on the right side and my office being to the left, the particulars of the furniture arrangements may change. Therefore, we've opted not to have the builder install the interior wall. If I find I can fit a wall  or room divider (and right now I think I'd really like to have more wall space) we would have to come up with an after-the-fact solution, space and budget allowing. Not shown (but planned) are ceiling fans--one on each end of the building. We're addressing the other considerations (hvac, insulation, drywall, lighting, picture rails, flooring, etc.) in due time, though right now we're just focusing on getting the structure up and the roof on.

Right end elevation (interior view):

This shows the interior wall on the right end of the building. This is my studio side and the wall faces roughly north. But there is an another building just across an alley on this side, so I have high windows here. They will let in some light, though unfortunately the neighboring building will block it somewhat. I wanted fancy shaped arched or triangular architectural windows here....until I saw the price. So we quickly opted for more standard windows. They all open, and the two smaller windows are awning windows.

The builder we've been working is a company called Bradley Buildings out of the Atlanta area. They've been great to work with so far, and very patient-- especially since this is the one zillionth version of these drawings they've come up with. We started out with something very different, but changes were made based on our lot restrictions. I also made a decision even after that point to further reduce the overall size so that the structure would be more in proportion to our house and lot.

Well, enough of this building stuff. Guess I'm pretty excited about all of this, but it may be a little too much information for a painting blog. It's time to get back to packing any way.

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.

There's a hole in my life

Or rather, there's one heck of a hole in our yard. I've come back home from my painting trip to find that they've started digging for the new studio! Let the games begin :-)

The red dots in the photo below roughly indicate the footprint of the studio, which will be a 16x28' structure. You might be able to make out another small light colored dot just beyond the lower right red dot. This is a stake for a 4' deep portico that will run the depth of the building and come off of one end to face the house and future patio.

There is an alley that sits just beyond our fence. This end of the hole is where my painting area will be. The trench in the foreground is for the plumbing, and (I believe), the electric too. Inspections have to take place at each stage along the way during this process.

The back half of our fence had to come down to let that big digger in. This is the fence that's still standing. Below the fence are all the flower pots I moved that were sitting around our back porch. Dave said he  didn't think we'd have to move them, but I did it "just in case". Good thing! Good too, that I hadn't yet done any landscaping in our back yard!

Will post again soon with a drawing of mine that shows what I've come up with for the layout.

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?"

Art Studio update, and which wall color?

Well, we came back from our beach vacation this past weekend to find out that our building permit application for the garage/studio was approved. We were pleasantly surprised, especially considering it only took a week, and we had been warned that this process could take much longer. I'll not gloat too soon though. We have a long process and many permit applications yet ahead; but at least we can get this ball rolling. I've got to get some painting and packing done today, but soon I will share my little floorplan I've worked out for my workspace. Meanwhile, here's a related question I've just received from a fellow artist, followed by my response:

Q: Just moved into my new home. I have a north facing  wall with lots of windows and storage space, now I need a wall paint  color... any suggestions???

-J.A.

Dear J.A.-

I am just getting started building a studio, so this is a topic I need to investigate myself. My main thought is to do something neutral. White can tend to make the light bounce around a lot, especially if you have lots of windows. You might check out artist Casey Child's blog post about the paint color he picked. A lot of portrait painters are into this neutral gray-green. I have no problem with the hue but I'm a little afraid the value shown at the above link would be too dark for me. But it could just be my monitor or his photos --or it could be that the walls don't need to be as light as I think they should be (Any thoughts, anyone?) In any event, whatever color I am considering, I'll try out in swatches in my own space first. Paint colors can look very different from one location to the next.

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.