learning from the plein air line up

Here are all of the "Times of Day" paintings from my time in California, painting plein air at the beach. Now that I am back in the studio, I have pinned all of these paintings to a corkboard, where I can see them all together. The line up teaches me a lot. Actually, the line up just sits there and waits for me to figure out what there is for me to learn. 

In the first piece, "9:00," I was full of excitement about being out painting plein air. I was stimulated by everything: the sky with the dynamic clouds, the shape of Santa Cruz Island out in the water, the reflections in the water, and the varied colors and shapes in the sand. This piece has no focus because I had no focus when I was painting it. The painting is an accurate depiction of my enthusiastic visual jumping all over the scene.

The second piece, "11:00," shows a little more restraint. The sand is simplified and rests at the bottom of the picture plane as do the reflections on the water. Santa Cruz Island, slightly obscured by hazy fog, is less firmly stated. In this piece, the sky takes center stage, well-deserved for its variety and value range. I can see how I settled down for this painting and I painted what interested me most about this scene.

The third piece, "1:00," is nearly an abstraction. Fog completely hid the island and formed a pinkish gray band of separation between the mid-day sky and the reflective sea. I left off the sand because it seemed less important. The cirrus clouds break up the dark blue sky expanse and the small fog band and sea bands balance out this piece. 

I was excited by the abstraction of the third piece and pushed it harder in the fourth, "2:00." I deepened the intensity of the sky as it was the heat of the day and a flatter, grayer fog hid Santa Cruz Island. I had a difficult time capturing the shimmering violets on the water surface and felt frustrated by this piece. 

The final piece, "4:00," was a challenge as all pieces are when the sun is directly in your painting view. I looked at the sky and tried to memorize what I saw and then when I looked down into my pastel box, everything was dark and nearly monochrome. My eyes were dilated by the light and not quick to respond to looking down to a shadowed box. Because I could not see well, I painted this by feeling it. I reached into my pastel box, organized by value and hue, and pulled out sticks and used them because they were where I thought the right one should be. Back and forth, chasing the sinking sun. Looking at it now, I think it is my favorite of the group. It smells of salt spray and sounds like gulls and surf.

January 2014, California beach at Rincon parkway.

It's good to be home. I am reflecting on what I learned from the above series and thinking about how I might create some new plein air situations for myself for more learning opportunities. 

1:00 pm

20 x 16, pastel on BFK

Pleasure and wonder at what it means to stay in the same spot for many days, observing and painting the scene before me.

The fog enshrouds Santa Cruz Island and makes an exciting transition from sea to sky.

While at home, the temperatures are below 50 and the skies are gray and filled with rain, here in California it is mild and sunny. Every day starts with a walk on the beach ... barefooted. 

Life is good!

11:00 am

20 x 16. Pastel on Rives BFK.

9:00 am plein air at the edge of the ocean

My sketchbook is littered with drawings of this view of sand, sea, sky and the mysterious Santa Cruz Island. As the sun arcs across this scene, all of the elements shift importance.

I am in Southern California near Ventura, camped right on the beach. The surf marks a beat to my thoughts, actions, steps, and even my heart responds to the rhythm.

Finally, after hours of observation, I am ready to paint.

It's 9:00 am and this is how the pieces fit together.


20" x 16", pastel on Rives BFK.

Bill Evans, "California, Here I Come."

plein air in the Columbia River Gorge

Here's my pastel plein air set up at the Vista House in the beautiful Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area. 

Early in the day it was not too busy at this popular view point and overlook. To stand in the landscape, open to all it has to reveal, is a heady experience. More observation leads to more understanding and that leads to more personal response to the landscape.

To the East, Vista House View, 10 x 10, pastel on paper

As the morning heated up, more people came. In cars and on bikes. In motorhomes and in trucks. Many people took photographs of me painting. Many people wanted to talk to me. As you would suspect, it spoiled my concentration.

Distracted Abstraction, to the East, 8 x 8, pastel on paper

Instead of getting frustrated by that, I decided to just paint an abstraction of the place, plus my feelings about being so distracted by all of the people. 

Vista House, built 1918

If you are interested in seeing more of the Columbia River Gorge area, I recommend the book Wild Beauty: Photography of the Columbia River Gorge, 1867 - 1957.

More about the Vista House here.

The Weavers sing "Roll On Columbia."

workshop with Joseph Mann

I spent two weeks in an intensive workshop with Joseph Mann, Portland artist and popular teacher at Portland Community College. I never go into a workshop expecting that I will paint a masterpiece, and I did not paint one this time, but I did paint differently and boldly and I learned many things that will work their way into my work in the days and years ahead.

The first week, we painted the figure in the interior. The space, a warehouse in Northwest Portland, was perfect! We all had enough room to spread out and the models had a protected space for their poses.

In the photo at the top of this post, you see how I am trying to fit the elements together like a puzzle where the figure is one piece among many. My head got the concept right away, my hands and eyes had trouble getting it on to the canvas. Line. Value. Color. Shape. Pattern. Shake well ...

Figure drawing is different from figure painting. We had a chance to do both. Since I have drawn figures longer than I have painted figures, I feel much more ease with drawing. The ease I feel translates to fluidity. With time, I hope to create that same energy in my paintings. Practice. Practice. Practice. I get it.

The second week of the workshop was all about painting the figure in the landscape. Take all of the distraction and overwhelming information of plein air painting and add figures into the mix. Easy to find chaos. In the painting above, I used a device from Japanese woodblock prints and put giant leaves in the foreground to give a sense of peering through the screen of foliage to the figures.

Under the shade of leafy trees at Laurelhurst Park in Portland, we were cool in the nearly 90 degree weather. Line. Value. Color. Shape. Pattern. Bugs. Passersby. Lawnmowers. Shake well ...


Speaking of "shake", here's KC and the Sunshine Band singing "Shake, Shake, Shake."

 

painting in the sunshine

Although at 58 degrees it wasn't especially warm, it was still delightful to get out in the sunshine and paint en plein air. In just about another week, these trees will be covered in light pink blossoms.

The Beatles "Good Day Sunshine."

Hay finish

Bales 1, 9 x 14, mixed media and pastel on paper

They rest patiently in the evening sun. Content to sit. Content to wait. 

Content to lose their heavy green wetness.

I have much to learn from the hay.

Clouds

I recall laying on the grass with friends and looking at the clouds in the summer sky. As 7 year olds, we saw dragons and puppies, faces and cars, and giants with big open mouths that could eat you in one bite and not even notice it. On such summer days the sky was filled with clouds and possibilities.

These days, I search the clouds for clues about the upcoming weather. From which direction will the wind come? Lightning or no? Should we race for the shelter of a breakwater or are we safe at anchor?

And, while all of these grown up concerns march through my mind and force organization to my observations, a little girl's daydreams on summer days skips through and around, too.

Dawn

Only 5:20 am when I peered out and saw the calm water of Liberty Bay. I pulled on a robe and climbed out onto the sun deck and painted the dawn. Coffee came later, around 7, when I was finished. Cold, but happy. Happy to be painting. Happy it's not raining. Happy to catch the dawn.

My set up: board with paper, foil dust tray, small Heilman box, table, paper towel. Still water. Quiet start of the day. A bald eagle flew right over the boat. I heard the wind in his feathers.

Grand Canyon plein air

South rim view of Grand Canyon, near Kolb Studio

The wind started to pick up and was cold!
Enough is not too bad.

I stood off the cleared path, on a bit of snow and still
had at least 50 people walk behind me to look.
Attractive nuisance. Sheesh.

For the last three years, since I've been painting en plein air, I have dreamed of painting at the rim of the Grand Canyon. Today, my dream came true!

Well, sort of. I pictured it a little warmer. And with fewer people milling around, climbing onto the snow behind me to get a look at the painting and then commenting (or not ... I'm not sure which is more distracting!).

Minor details. I get a thrill when I see the signs that I am nearing the National Park. The names conjure the beauty and mystery and danger of the place: Yavasupai observation station, Kaibab National Forest, Havasupai trail, Bright Angel Lodge, Hopi House, and the El Tovar Hotel. As I was unpacking my gear, the train from Williams, Arizona blew its whistle to signal "All aboard!"

And now, I have joined ranks with other artists who have sat at the same rim, and looked down in wonder at the splendor of the Grand Canyon and the Colorado River. And tried to capture its beauty in even a small way.

Life is good!

Today sun. Tomorrow, a chance of snow. I still hope to paint!

Bainbridge Island plein air

Port Madison plein air
9 x 12

4 value Notan plan

my palette

set up on the bow

Morning quiet, except for the loon who insistently called for his mate.

Mirror-like water and bright light warming every surface, including me! I can see that I deviated from my original notan sketch (a simplified value sketch). I attempted to pay close attention to the mid tones and use temperature to create interest.

Reid Harbor

Reid Harbor, Stuart Island

Still trying to make friends with my new pastels.

Saddlebag Island Plein Air

Saddlebag Island final

morning set up on the bow

afternoon set up in the stern cockpit

It was good to set up my easel today and paint! Our boat is hanging on the anchor near Saddlebag Island State Park on a beautiful day! This morning I set up on the bow and in the afternoon in the stern cockpit (a little more crowded back there).

My new pastels are great but they are unfamiliar. It will take some time before I feel comfortable with this new collection of colors. Today I felt like I was wearing someone else's clothes. I'm not sure they fit yet.

Any day spent painting is a good day.

I spoke too soon -- plein air in Gig Harbor!

Gig Harbor Sunset
18 x 24, pastel

Just as I pushed the "post" button earlier, the sun broke through the clouds and I raced to set up on the bow of the boat. I don't think I've ever painted so quickly. Thirty minutes from sunbreak to sprinkling rain.

Any day painting is a good day, indeed.

July 4 Plein Air at Budd Inlet

Dock ramp is steep when the tide is out!

My set up near the Olympia Area Rowing building

Tide is Out at Budd Inlet
plein air
18x24, pastel

Watercolor sketching

Plein Air at Cresap Bay

Cresap Bay
18 x 24, pastel

Whitaker Ponds plein air

The morning clouds started clearing right away when Celeste Bergin and I hiked around Whitaker Ponds to find our painting spot. Any day spent with Celeste is a good day, but even better when we can both paint!

I'm not sure why, but the drainage pipe interested me and the way the light reflected in the nearby water. I learned something, which is always true about plein air painting, and had fun. The algae and flotsam in the water did not make for the most beautiful landscape, but it was a good experience.

Especially when the mama duck swam through the pipe into my view. She was not alone, though. Five ducklings trailed her.

A good day.

552 Westmoreland Park

Westmoreland Park plein air

18 x 24, pastel

I was determined to keep my painting grayed down today. I quickly realized how many pure pastels I have and how few grayed ones. That made my self-imposed task more difficult.

I always say that I learn a lot from every plein air painting. With this painting I learned that just because I am enamored of a certain portion of the painting, I should not ignore the problems with value. The lower left portion of the painting turned out so beautiful with the under painting, it looked just like water. However, it was too light to make sense in the painting. Next time ...

Overall, I had a great experience in a park with plentiful subject matter, good people, and I came home with a pretty good painting.