Plein Air Crush

This week I am coming down off of an exciting weekend in Floyd County, Virginia, where I participated in the inaugural plein air event called Plein Air Crush. In total there were about 19 artists participating over the course of the weekend, with judging and awards taking place on Sunday. This year the event centered around Chateau Morrisette Winery, which has some interesting architectural features, lovely gardens and vineyards, not to mention a fine restaurant and some pretty tasty wine. It sounds luxurious doesn't it? But keep in mind I was not doing much sipping. Instead I was schlepping; schlepping a bunch of art gear and standing for hours, out in the elements. It was hard on the body but rewarding for the spirit, and I had a good time painting the new-to-me scenery and meeting other artists.

We converged on Friday evening for a little meet and greet, but the painting portion of the event kicked off on Saturday, where we faced the threat of rain and some pretty dark skies. Painting in these conditions is really challenging because the value range is very limited and the light fairly flat. So I decided to set up in the vineyard where I found opportunities for some strong linear elements and soft edges that provided interesting compositional options:

  "Vineyard in Gray Light", oil on panel, 9x12"

In the afternoon I decided to venture a little further afield to paint a view of Buffalo Mountain: "Buffalo Mountain View", oil on linen, 8x8"

Sunday was the quick draw. It was incredibly windy. Worse than clouds and rain, wind conditions are a nearly impossible situation for the plein air painter because of the danger of having your entire setup topple and/or take flight.  The wind at the winery required that most painters seek a shelterd place unless they had a good way of weighting their setup (which I didn't).

Down at the vineyard though it was much warmer and virtually windless. I hadn't really planned on doing another vineyard piece but I figured it was my best option for success when we had a time limit.

"Sunlit Vines", oil on linen, 9x12"

We had three hours for the quick draw (which is actually pretty generous). At the alotted time we had to deliver our quick draw painting and the other works we had completed during the event and set up for judging. Steve Doherty, artist and editor of Plein Air Magazine was the judge. I didn't win any awards but it was cool to meet him and I learned a lot about my painting, and even a bit about myself as well.

Setting up for the judgement back up at the winery

Here I am happy and tired. The wind blew up a bunch of dirt on my paintings. I have managed to get most of it off of the two vineyard pieces, but the Buffalo Mountain one was painted really thickly and I don't think that stuff is going to budge. Oh well...that's plein air for you! It was good winery soil at least.

I came home to a messy house and a bunch of dirty laundry, but it was a fair trade for having had time off from mommy duties to do my thing for a whole weekend. (Thanks honey!) :-)

Commissions, part III; wrapping it up!

In my last two posts, I took you through the proposal process of one of my recent commissions. If you wish to read this series from the beginning, start with Part I, followed by Part II. Today I'd like to share with you how the commissioned paintings turned out. I also have a few thoughts on commissions in general; both what to expect if you are a collector, and how to consider going about them, if you are an artist.

After having submitted my proposals for both of the paintings, I have now received the go-ahead to proceed. Here are the two completed paintings:

"The Potted Garden II", Oil on linen, 16x12"

"The Corner Shop, Roussillon", Oil on Linen, 16x12"

I'm very glad to say that the client expressed great satisfaction with the two paintings and they are now framed and in their new home.

Commissions are great experiences for artists because they push us to think about our art from a new perspective. Yes, as artists we all want our work to stand on its own. At the same time, nothing exists in a vacuum, and I am ok (and in fact, really flattered) with the knowledge that my paintings will coexist with other art in a collection, as well as other family heirlooms that will be important and valued by a family, possibly for generations.  So it's a great honor to even be asked about commission work and I am always happy to discuss that possibility and to converse in-depth about not only the art but the environment where the art is intended to be placed. With this in mind, here are a few things to note that make commissioned work a special animal, worthy (apparently) of three blog posts!

1) The Conversation

The conversation ( usually more than one) is probably the single most important element of any commission. This is the artist's opportunity to gather all of the relevant information about size, environment, and (very important) color preferences. Color, in fact, is the one topic that comes up rather emphatically in nearly every conversation I have with prospective commission clients. It's understandable, as color elicits so many varying emotions.

Ideally these conversations would be done face-to-face, but that is usually either not possible or practical. Most of my commissions have actually been negotiated, in fact, via email and phone. In these cases, Photoshop is definitely my friend!

2) The Proposal:

This is where I do my best to incorporate the ideas and desires of the client into a work of art. Sometimes, as in the examples I've provided in these last couple of posts, I have studies or compositions already worked out. In these cases, I just use my old buddy Photoshop.  More often, though, I am creating something from scratch. In these cases I will submit a  sketch with color notes, as well as a few of my photo references that I will use to incorporate some elements into the composition. The more visual examples given at this stage, the better.

3) The Approval:

The next step is to await the feedback of the client, or, if things go really smoothly, await the client's approval to proceed.

3) The Deposit:

This topic is often one that people don't like to talk about, but it's an essential part of many artists' working methods, so I am going to throw this horse right on out there on the middle of the dining room table. As artists, we need to decide for ourselves our best practices so that we feel good about the work we are doing.

Earlier in my career, I did not ask for a deposit for most of my commissions. As long as I felt like I was able to sell the work in a gallery if needed and that it didn't stray too far from the rest of my body of work,  I felt okay about working on speculation. Times change though and though the vast majority of my experiences were excellent, an odd one or two "hiccups", as well as certain life experiences (like having a child)  helped to shape my perspective on the boundaries I should set for myself and my work.

Nowadays, with few exceptions I require a deposit to proceed. This would occur once my proposal has been approved by the client.  The amount is either 1/2 down, or, if it is a very large and involved commission, 1/3 down, 1/3 at approval half-way, and 1/3 prior to delivery. Most collectors are okay with this arrangement and understand the whole working -for-compensation thing. I also think they appreciate that that it is to everyone's advantage that there is a commitment made to secure the agreement.

A deposit doesn't just cover an artist's materials, by the way. It also covers her time. Keep in mind that a proposal already commands a good deal of time and effort to prepare. Time is the most precious commodity I have. It is up to each individual to determine how they wish to work and what they want to spend their time working on.

4) Art Direction

Some artists are more ok with art direction than others. Having had a taste of the heavy-handed variety, I can most definitely state that I am not in favor. ;-) This is not to say that I am adverse to hearing client's preferences and feedback!  This is the whole point of "The Conversation", and I do welcome it if a minor adjustment is desired. However, I can't start over with a new concept, (which would mean a new painting) make profuse alterations, or do anything that I feel would greatly compromise the integrity of the painting.

Most clients understand, and I do my best to clarify in advance,  that any painting I make is going to be unique,  not  a copy--either of my own work or anyone else's . Beyond preference in color and subject, a collector commissions an artist because the artist has his or her own voice, and it's up to the artist, ultimately, to determine the best expression of their idea. In other words....Nobody puts Baby in a corner!

All joking aside, most people are really very happy to let the artist do her thing.  In fact, "that thing she does" is the whole reason the client was attracted to her work to begin with. Nevertheless, it's good policy, and indeed it's the artist's responsibility to clarify all of that with the client so that expectations are managed. Of course, every commission is unique and there are definitely nuances that  can vary my approach to a certain degree. The key is to keep communication lines open and to be open to honest feedback.

This just about wraps up my commission process, or at least the highlights. If there is anything I have missed, or if you have any questions, please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. If you are an artist, feel free to share how you handle your own commissions. I would most especially  welcome the thoughts of collectors (or potential collectors) also. Have you ever commissioned an artist? What was your experience? Let me hear from you!

The making of a commission

It's hard to believe summer is almost over. The move of my home and business, along with family matters, tended to completely monopolize my spring and summer, and yet there is still so much to do.   While we are slowly settling into the house, it will be some time before I have a studio. So I have "made do" with either painting outside in the blazing summer heat, or setting up a temporary studio with drop cloths in my poorly lit living room. For those reasons, my painting production has been down and it's been driving me a little crazy. Nevertheless, opportunity waits for no one, and commissions are a special kind of opportunity. Time to pull out the drop cloths and shop lights again! :-)  I have been painting for 20 years, and in that time, I've had a variety of commissions. Some are more "challenging", and some are pure delight. Of course, the latter are more pleasurable, but all commissions have been, to me, opportunities for growth as an artist.

My latest commission, in spite of my less than ideal work environment,  fell distinctly in the realm of the delightful. I met the client during a painting demonstration at the Little Gallery where my work was being featured in June. He happened to love one of my paintings in that show, called "The Potted Garden, Pienza":

The only issue was that the format (square) wasn't quite right. He was looking for a slightly larger, more vertical painting, and a companion piece of the same size to complement it in an adjacent spot.

I loved this little scene and I was happy to explore it again with a different format. So my first task was to convert my square composition to a vertical piece. Luckily, the architectural subject matter leant itself to the task naturally, and I was able to use Photoshop to render a "sketch" for a proposal in much faster time than I would have been able to do free-hand:

As you can see, I didn't labor over rendering the upper portion. The purpose was just to continue it upward to demonstrate how it would look. (Photoshop is a very expensive program, but nothing beats it for working out compositional options for paintings!)

In all honesty, because the location of the focal point was in the right position for both the original 12x12"  and the commissioned 16x12" format,  I didn't have to do much to the composition of the original painting beyond extending it. That's not always the case, believe me, but this time things worked out really well. But because I was losing a window on the upper left, I did suggest that I replace the two flower pots under the window for a larger, single hanging basket, as this would give this area more unity.

Once I received the client's approval for my proposal of the first painting, I set to work finding a second composition that I would create as a companion piece. I'll cover that in the next installment. Stay tuned!

"Winter Sunset" recognized in FAV15 at FASO!

I'm taking a break from packing to post a quick update. I am very excited to learn that my painting "Winter Sunset, North Run Creek", was selected as part of the FAV15% (jury's favorite 15% of the entries) in the March 2015 BoldBrush Painting competition! This is only the 2nd time I have entered one of these online contests, so I feel pretty happy to have been recognized.

Thank you FASO and Fine Art Views!!! http://faso.com/boldbrush/fav15/160

A spring commission

With the spring shows hung and the winter commission complete, I was thinking I would be able to turn next to some plein air painting, or perhaps to develop a couple of my James River plein air paintings into larger studio works. But that will have to wait, as I have gotten another commission! :-) But first, a couple of shots of the garden, which, when last photographed was in a state of sad dishevelment! The gardens around the studio really come into greater color in the summer. But with the rubbish cleared and weeds pulled, things are coming alive in the side garden with Creeping Jenny on the path, flanked by Mountian Bluets (Bachelor's Buttons) and creeping phlox. A flowering Dogwood makes a nice canopy, and the lilac in the fore is just starting to put off its heady scent.

Here's another shot below of the garden opposite the studio. In summer there are lilies, cone flowers, tall phlox and a butterfly bush. But my big thing lately is succulents. I love that they are water-wise and so marvelously sculptural. In the center is a succulent topiary I made last year. I will need to replenish a few of the tender plants that didn't survive our winter, but it hasn't been quite warm enough here to see much variety in the garden centers yet.

Now that my daughter is a toddler, I can usually patch together enough time to noodle in the garden while she plays nearby. Working in the studio is a different story. At just 2 1/2 years old, her attention span is still pretty limited. So while she loves being in the studio, (and I love having her there,) I do have to shoo her out when it comes time to work, amidst howls of protest (and a certain amount of Mommy guilt as well).

...Which leads me to the commission! If you have been a reader for some time, this image might be familiar to you. In fact, I have painted variations of this scene a few times, beginning with the small painting done en plein air in the Blue Ridge mountains, and following with two larger 30x40 versions.

The commission came about as the result of my April show currently taking place at Design Domaine Gallery in Bernardsville, New Jersey. The client loved the painting "Morning Meadow" (click here to read my blog about this painting in the making) but it was much too large for her space. So my task is to recreate this scene in a 16x20 format.

Since a 30x40" painting doesn't exactly scale down to 16x20", we thought it best to start with a sketch of the new painting so that the client could have a visual idea of how it would look compositionally.

While on the one hand, it may seem easier to recreate something I have basically already done a number of times, it can sometimes be a challenge to meet client expectations. Sometimes, though not always, a client may, for instance, expect the new painting to be exactly like the first, only smaller. So an effort always has to be made to explain in advance that as an original work of art, a painting can't be recreated stroke-for-stroke like the last.

The client does understand this, though she would like the color of the new piece to be as close as possible to the last. It was, after all, the combination of colors in Morning Meadow that she fell in love with.

Luckily, my prior blog post listed the exact color palette I used to create the larger piece! :) (I can't tell you how often I have referenced my own blog to get this kind of historical information.) So while I won't be able to remember exactly the combinations of color mixtures, I will be able to take some of the guesswork out of the process and use the same palette for this piece.

Above is the sketch, reinterpreted onto canvas. At this point in sketch stage, I want to make sure I get an accurate placement for the various elements in the composition, so I've marked off in pencil the horizontal and vertical mid-points in the pencil sketch as well as on the painting to guide me. More to come in an upcoming post, where I will get into some color!

Artist talk and reception this Tuesday

Just a quick post to announce an artist talk I will be giving this Tuesday, April 23rd, at 10 a.m., at Westminster Canterbury's Sarah Belle November Theatre in Richmond, VA. This will be an interview styled talk illustrated with a slide show, with questions opening up to the audience afterwards. The talk is in conjunction with the exhibition of my work hanging in the neighboring galleries. Reception immediately follows in the exhibit space located in the H. Scott November Gallery. Please call the cultural art center at 264-6268 for more information. Both the talk and the reception are open to the public, so if you are in Richmond, I hope you will consider coming out!

Two feature shows opening this month

Happy April everyone! Even though its still pretty chilly around here in Richmond, the birds are back and early spring blooms are everywhere. My garden, however, is still pretty much a mess. Old growth covers new, and even though it's driving me crazy to have it look like that, I haven't had time to deal with it.

That's my cat Olive in the background, looking at me with mild disdain.

My studio is looking like it is following suit as well.

This is my framing table. I'm too embarrassed to show you what the rest of the studio looks like right now!

Not exactly "Martha Stewart Living".   But I have an excuse.  I have been busy framing and shipping paintings for two feature shows in April. First, in Bernardsville, New Jersey, I am April's featured artist at Design Domaine Gallery. On view are a collection of my paintings from Europe and the American South. If you are up that way, stop in tonight, April 5th, for a wine and cheese reception from 6 to 9 PM., and say hi to owners Larry and Marilyn Rosenthal. Thanks Larry and Marilyn for featuring my paintings!

Another sizable exhibit of my work has just been installed at the H. Scott November Gallery at Westminster Canterbury here good ole RVA. This beatuiful exhibition space features rotating quarterly shows of artists from throughout Virginia. On view from now until June are my paintings of the French and Italian countryside. There will be a reception and artist Q&A later in the month on April 23rd. I am so happy and honored to have the opportunity to exhibit at these wonderful venues.

Winter Solstice reception Friday at Glave Kocen Gallery

This is a cross-posting with my newsletter so I hope that the readers of both will forgive the repetition. If you are in the Richmond area, I will be participating in a group invitational this Friday night at Glave Kocen Gallery. I will be one of ten artists featured for this one night event exhibiting winter themed art. But this is not just an art show. It's also a fundraiser for a great cause. Spearheaded by The 1000 Strong Project, proceeds from the sale of the show will benefit Comfort Zone Camp (CZC). CZC offers free camps for kids nationwide who have experienced the death of a parent, sibling or primary caregiver. The 1000 Strong Project has also produced some great art calendars (in which my art will also be featured) that will be sold at the reception to benefit the charity. So if you are in Richmond, come out for some fun, see some great winter-themed art, pick up some calendars for holiday gifts, and support a great cause. Here are the details:

What: "Winter Solstice" Art Reception for The 1000 Strong Project and Comfort Zone Camp Where: Glave Kocen Gallery, 1620 W. Main Street, Richmond, VA 23220 When: Friday, November 12, 2010, 6-9 PM Hope to see you there!

Summer's End

The Paint Annapolis plein air exhibition ended on Sunday, so on Monday I drove up to Annapolis to pick up unsold work from the competition. It would have been nice to do some more painting up there while I was at it, but I had to get back home so it was rather a whirlwind trip. I rather like this little skipjack, patiently waiting for some action as it sits in a drive just behind a veggie garden. It's probably my favorite piece from the event.

"Summer's End" Oil on board, 9x12"

Small works invitational

There's been a lot happening around here so unfortunately the blog neglect has continued! I do hope to ramp up to more regular posting (and painting!) by early next week. Meanwhile, here are two new little Key West pieces I've done for a small works holiday invitational that opens at the Miller Gallery on November 20th in Cincinnati.

"The Shady Side" Oil on Canvas, 6x8"

"Towering Bougainvilla" Oil on Canvas, 6x8"

I am so honored to show my work in such a lovely looking gallery alongside artists of such fine caliber. Check them out!

Post- Paint Annapolis

Sorry to say, my blog has suffered a bit from benign neglect since I left for my travels a few weeks ago. Rain and 30 mile/hr wind consumed most of our beach vacation, so while it was still beautiful, there was no chance of painting boats or coastal motifs before the Paint Annapolis competition that followed just a week later. Paint Annapolis itself was fun and enlightening, but since I am still dealing with shoulder tendinitis and pain, it was physically stressful and pretty exhausting. For the first two days, it seemed that I had brought the crappy weather I'd had at the beach right along with me up to the Annapolis event. The weather did turn beautiful during the last portion, but I think I kind of "blew myself out" trying to get something interesting down early on while the weather was gray and the light exceedingly flat.

The previous paragraph makes it sound like I didn't enjoy myself at all, but that was not the case! In fact, while I didn't come home with any prizes, I still received a lot of reward. My early struggles notwithstanding, the city of Annapolis is charming. I had a lovely host for the event, and everyone I encountered in the event organization, and even in the town at large, was warm and friendly. AND I'm delighted to say that I sold a study right from the easel!  :-)  I also found myself among some incredibly talented painters and it was truly inspiring to see so much fine work being produced by my contemporaries. Almost all of the artists were friendly, uplifting, and inclusive, making the atmosphere feel more like a (highly motivated) community than a competition.  So much so, in fact, that by the time it was all over with, in spite of my exhaustion, I was actually sad to see it end.

"A Banner Day", Oil on linen, 12x12"

As a painter, I also I learned a lot. I learned that if it isn't happening, don't force it. I learned that if the light is truly uninteresting, you're better off sleeping in a day or two and staying up at night to paint nocturnes!  I learned that in the overwhelm of an unfamiliar environment, I'd be much better off painting simple studies successfully than failing at capturing a very complicated scene. I learned that even in the anxiety of knowing you only have 3 days to paint,  you really do have to pace yourself, take care of yourself, be kind to yourself, and give your mind and body enough time to rest and relax. And I learned that all of the things I thought I knew can so easily fall by the wayside in this thing called "competition".

As is usually the case with me, I learned much of this more through error than through trial. In a way, the lessons I learned at the competition are only larger-than-life versions of the lessons I learn all the time through the act of plein air painting. These paintings can be like mini thrills-of-victory or agonies-of-defeat, though often they fall somewhere in between. Much is made of the victories (and with good reason) but for the painter who is fortunate enough to recognize it, they all hold value. The value lies in what you take away from it.

p.s. The painting posted was painted during the sunny portion of the event. It's from the quick draw called "Dueling Brushes". Please contact me for purchase inquiries. I posted about this event also last year and you can read my account here.

"All Things French" opens tonight

Off to Greenville for the show opening. Y'all come! For those who can't make it, here's a slideshow recap of work I've delivered for the show:

Where: City Art Gallery, 511 Red Banks Rd., Greenville, NC 27858 When: Opening August 6, 6-8 PM. Show continues throught the month of August. What: All Things French! Paintings from France travels by Jennifer Young and Hilarie Lambert

Ahh, oops, ah-ha, and ouch!

I have one more work to share today from the group I'll be taking to North Carolina for the "All Things French" show next week. This was done alla prima. More fun with light and shadow, and lots of paint! Ah, it's been such fun revisiting these lovely places through the act of painting them.

"Coleurs dus Sud" Oil on linen, 20x24"

For this painting and the last one I posted, I experimented with an interesting double primary palette- Titanium white, Cad Yellow Pale, Golden Ochre (Rembrandt) , Organic Vermillion (Daniel Smith), Quinacridone Rose, Ultramarine Blue, and Manganese Blue (Old Holland).  I must say it was a lot of fun playing with these different colors. The gold ochre is dangerously lovely, and the organic vermillion was nice change up from cad. red light. In fact, it's similar, but the tinting strength isn't quite as strong so in some ways it was easier to use.

I went with this palette for a couple of reasons, but the key word is "economy". First it's an economy of time. The increasing pain in my arms was making it difficult to spend an inordinate amount of time mixing certain colors, even though I've learned enough about color mixing to know how to acheive most of what I need. I almost never use any color directly from the tube any way, but it helped to have a premixed earth, for the buildings for instance, and when such warmth in the scene predominates.

Second, it's an economy of money. I mentioned before that I have a lot of art supplies that kind of fell by the wayside once I discovered some preferred methods and materials, but now I'm starting to revisit those supplies to try and economize where I can. All of the paints and substrates are archival, quality materials, but I do have some far-out tubes of colors--some dating back to before I started painting landscapes!

The paint department at the Lowe's hardware store near our house has something they call the "oops bin". These are mixed paints of specialty colors that presumably didn't come out as expected. I guess you could say that I have my own "oops bins".  After limiting myself to nothing much larger than a double primary palette for years (without much variation), I think it's time to mine some of these strange old friends. Maybe the "oops" will even lead to some ah-ha's along the way!

p.s. I think I'm narrowing down what the problem in my arms might be. Unfortunately it's not limited to just my arms and hands, but radiates from my neck and shoulders all the way down both sides. It's taken a couple of days to write this post, so suffice it to say that my blogging will slow down a bit for a while. (I know I said that before but I really mean it this time!)  Sadly, I will probably have to take a brief rest from painting too. And gardening. I'm typically not too good at "resting" so let's hope I don't go nuts in the interim!

Dusk Approaches

If you're tired of French paintings, don't read this post! I've been on a roll. Here's another one of the Dordogne, with my favorite light and a play of long shadows:

"Dusk Approaches" Oil on Linen, 20x24"

The paint is thick and it's still a bit soft, but if it sets up enough to receive a retouch varnish, I may include it my show of French works that opens next week. This new piece was done on a rather rougher weave linen than I'm accustomed to using, but since I'm trying to economize, I'm working my way through the art supplies I have on hand (rather than just ordering more of my 'preferred' materials.)

The linen is a quality product, just not as fine a weave as I normally like; so up to now these canvases have been collecting dust. It came stretched and pre-primed, but I did add a couple of extra coats of gesso beforehand (with sanding in between) which helped to smooth the surface a little. But still its grip on the paint was significant, so some use of the palette knife came in mighty handy.

One of these days I will do a serious update to my website and post my new paintings there as well. But in the meantime, please contact me for purchasing info.

Le Bateau Rouge

Well the week has flown by and I'm still working away constantly getting ready for the show at City Art Gallery (final touches, varnishing, framing, etc.) Meanwhile I have developed some kind of tendonitis in BOTH of my arms, starting from my shoulders and running all the way down to my wrists and hands. This has been coming on for a while but now it's raging. Fabulous. It also hurts to do any kind of computer work, so since I haven't trained any other appendages to hold a paintbrush, right now if I have to limit one activity it's going to be the computer. Needless to say, blogging may be spotty at best over the next week or two, but I will try to keep posting here and there if I can. Today's painting is again of a scene in the Dordogne. I worked from sketches and a photo. The tree in my photo was very much like a reverse version (in type and lighting) to the plein air painting I did not too long ago of the backlit willow, so I for that part of the painting, I found my plein air work to be a better reference. A little bit of Virginia in France? Hey, if it makes a better painting, I'm all for it.

"Le Bateau Rouge" Oil on Linen, 24x30"

French market painting #2

Here is something of a companion piece to the other Cahors market painting I posted a couple of days ago:

"Legumes du Jour" Oil on Linen, 20x16"

For both this painting and the previous market painting I have again experimented with a single primary palette of just 3 colors (red, yellow, and blue) plus white. I don't normally use a huge palette any way, but sometimes I feel I can become over-reliant on certain colors. Using a very limited palette helps me to feel as if I am taking back in control of my color mixing and really forces me to think more about color relationships. It also pretty much ensures more unified color. My three primaries for these two paintings were cadmium yellow pale, cadmium red medium, and ultramarine blue, and the white was titanium.

Upcoming Events

Just a quick note to share a couple of upcoming art events. First, I am very excited to learn that I was one of 24 artists selected to participate in the The Paint Annapolis 2009 juried competition in September. Longtime blog readers may recall that I went up and participated in just the quick draw portion last year. But this year will be my first time as a juried participant in a week-long event of this size. The entry juror was the very talented painter Scott Burdick, whose work, his portraits particular, I've long admired. Second, I've been invited to be a featured artist with painter Hilarie Lambert in an upcoming show at City Art Gallery in Greenville, NC. The show will feature works from our European travels, and opens on August 6th. Here is one of my new paintings I've done for the show:

 

"Market Price" Oil on linen, 16x20"

One of my favorite parts of my trip last year (okay, I have a LOT of favorite parts!) was visiting the incredible market in Cahors. It was a true French market with all the goods--meat, veggies, cheeses, flowers, oils, soaps, and linens--and none of the tourist tchotchkes that you can see in some of the European markets of the well-traveled cities.

I painted a flower stand in this market en plein air, but this is an alternate view from the same day. The flower stand is in the distance, beyond what you see in the foreground- a stand of sausages (saucissons- pronounced somewhat like SO-SEE-SAW). I'm not a meat-eater now, but once upon a time I tasted some country French sausages like these. They were very rich, but pretty darn tasty at the time. I've lost my taste for it now, but it's still fun to say "saucissons"!

Important/ Not Urgent (a long post on the long view)

"Tuscan Patchwork", Oil, 6x8"

Not much painting this week. After briefly traveling to Texas for a long weekend celebrating my mom's birthday (happy 80th Mom!) I returned to spend the week FINALLY tackling the mountain of paperwork I've had on my "to-do" list for some time.

I used to think I was pretty organized in my art business, but lately I feel like I am forever playing "catch up". There was a time during my studio move when I was literally operating out of boxes. But I'm all set up now and I really can't blame my floundering on the move any more. The only explanation I really have to offer is that during my little break from the routine I'd set up for myself, I developed the bad habit of....well....not having a routine!

"White Road in Val d'Orcia", Oil, 6x8"

I recall a conversation I had some time ago with a gallery owner. I was admiring the work of a fellow artist in the gallery and commenting on how much this artist's work had grown and matured. The gallery owner agreed. They were good paintings, and popular with collectors too. If only they could get the artist to give them more work!

As it turned out, the artist had just recently changed from being a part-time painter with a day job to being an artist full-time. Only, this person was anything but, watching movies, surfing the net--doing most anything rather than painting. According to the gallery owner, ironically, once given the luxury of unlimited time, the artist's productivity plummeted. I could understand this.

So many artists I know can so easily get into the habit of working toward deadlines. But when no deadline looms, (no shows, openings, classes or other projects on the horizon) their commitment (and often their work) can languish. I'm sure all working artists with kids and/or day-jobs everywhere are playing the world's tiniest violin in sympathy! But there is something to be said for having externally imposed time limits.

Of course there are many possible reasons why artists don't create (such as emotional constraints brought on by fear, insecurity, depression, etc.) But when I had a day job, I was forced to carve out a finite amount of time in which to do my creative work, and looking back I am amazed at how productive I was. I remember being up until 2 a.m. painting, even after a full day of work at the bank, going to the gym, showering, and scraping together some dinner (I also remember being single then, and younger too!) Of course, I lamented not having more time to paint, but at the same time, my time limitations lit a fire under me to make the most of each window of opportunity.

But once I started working full time at my painting, I, too, languished for a time due to complete lack of structure and many, many distractions around the home studio. Being the ADD sort that has many other interests doesn't help!  What did finally help me was that I began to structure my business in such a way that it set exteral limitations and schedule requirements. But I may have overdone it a bit. I traveled a lot, I maintained a rigorous work schedule to supply work to the 8 galleries I was working with at the time. And when that wasn't enough busy-ness for me, I taught classes, maintained my website and blog, and eventually opened a studio-gallery with montly shows.

But here's the thing. Even though for a while, the money was good and the trips were fun, ultimately this "system" didn't work for me either. Everything was urgent and important, and constantly being in emergency mode was like going from zero to 100 with no brake in between. And you know what can happen when you speed along at 100 miles/hour? Crash. (Of course you can also crash going 20 miles/hour, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much.)

A part of me began to realize what I was doing, so I began eliminating again. Fewer galleries, fewer trips, and eventually letting go of the downtown space and again setting up a home studio. But what I hadn't realized (or had forgotten) was that eliminating  much of the externally imposed deadlines and obligations without creating an internal structure to replace it would leave me feeling more lost and disorganized than "free."

Many of you readers out there are probably familiar with Stephen Covey's book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. It's become a real classic in the business/success genre, and I'd heard his audio version many years ago but had rather forgotten about it until recently. My favorite part of the book is "Habit 3: Putting First Things First," which includes his famous "Time Management Matrix":

	Urgent	Not Urgent
Important	Quadrant I (crises, deadlines)	Quadrant II (planning, relationships, R&R)
Not Important	Quadrant III(interruptions, some calls, etc.)	Quadrant IV(trivia, busy work, time wasters)

According to Covey, Quadrant II is the place where "successful people" spend the bulk of their time. This Quadrant is filled with proactive things like planning and prevention, as well as growth activities like relationships and recreation (and many creative pursuits!) Instead, Quadrant I tends to be where most people spend their time (crises, deadlines, etc. --AKA emergency mode.) I don't think I'd be too far afield if I said that there are many artists who hang out in this quadrant. I've seen it in myself, and I have known many artists, both professionals and beginners who do not even work at all unless they have an external deadline to work toward (art exhibit, workshop, etc.)

Having externally motivated goals isn't always a bad thing. But, at least for me, it's dangerous if it becomes too much of a habit. In fact, some of us can get so addicted to emergencies (ahem!) that we tend to put off Quadrant II activities until they become Quadrant I activities. And then we get so freaked out and exhausted that we escape to Quadrant IV!

If you're still with me, I'll tell you what all of this Quadrant stuff has to do with art (or at least my art.) Pretty much every goal I have as an artist and as an individual has associated tasks that can ideally be categorized as a Quadrant II activities-- from health goals like proper diet, exercise and adequate sleep, to artistic goals like x number of plein air paintings/ week, and things like experimenting with different mediums, subject matter, or techniques. And if the tasks are managed properly from the get-go, they need never become "urgent" Quadrant I's.

Quadrant I stuff happens. Sometimes even in spite of their best efforts, people lose their jobs, get sick, or just plain forget to deal with things. But while not every emergency is predictable or preventable, I am fortunate to be able to say that, at least at this time, many of them are.  I can prevent stress by getting adequate sleep and exercise. I can prevent freaking out before a show or a workshop by planning and/or preparing for it with a calm and steady production flow in advance. I can position myself for success and future opportunities, even if right now business has slowed. For me, the most obvious path to keeping myself focused on important things before they become urgent, is to create a daily schedule that whittles away Quadrant I and includes as many Quadrant II actvities as possible. I've mentioned this before, but here's the key; you gotta stick to it! In short, it's called discipline. And the last time I checked, discipline requires commitment, not just saying "I'll try."

Ultimately the whole art/artist thing wreaks to high heaven of Quadrant II. I'd venture to say that even for those of us who depend on their art sales as their sole source of income, the vast majority of artists are doing their work first and foremost out of love for it. After all, if it were just about the cash, there are many more efficient ways of making more money in less time.

Will we die without being able to create our art? Will others die without being able to experience it? Well, in reality art doesn't have that kind of urgency. But if life is to be truly enjoyed, we have to move beyond merely surviving to thriving, which for me includes being uplifted, challenged, or inspired. That's the benefit of art, and in that way, it is so very important.

p.s. By the way...I did manage to eek out a couple of small Tuscany studies, playing with the idea of pattern. You can now see purchasing details for these and the other two small paintings mentioned in my previous post by clicking here.

Too cold for plein air...? So I'll write about it instead!

Note: This post picks up on a conversation that started in the comments section of my post from a couple of days ago about painting outside in "the elements"....or not. My first plein air painting experience was a disaster. In fact, I don't think I was really won over with the whole idea of painting on location until about the 5th time out. It took many more outings than that, however, before I created anything I considered to be remotely approaching a "success".

There were definitely days when I found myself wondering why I bothered with it at all. Even now that I really love plein air painting, I still find I don't do it as often as I would like. It is certainly a lot easier to paint in a nice cozy studio at any time of day or night without having to haul a bunch of gear around. It's a hassle. You have to deal with bugs, sunburn, wind, rain, or the freezing cold. In some cases you also have to deal with constant interruptions from passers-by (from dogs to people to timed sprinklers coming on unexpectedly to boats parking right in front of your view!)

But even with all of that, there is something exhilarating about it. It can often be the best sweaty, bug-bitten, exhausting, driven, compelling, and highly focused couple of hours I've ever spent. And even in the "wipers" or those that end up in the "circular file" there was often enough of an element-- maybe just a square inch or two-- that hinted at some special understanding and called me forward. In short, there was something this experience was teaching me that I wasn't getting by working in the studio alone.

In order to really enjoy my plein air painting experiences I think I first had to finally let go of the need for a particular outcome. Of course ultimately I want to become a better painter! But just as I'm trying to do now with my life-drawing, I gained the greatest benefit from this practice when I finally started viewing it in terms of what I could learn rather than what I could produce. The shift in perspective helped, because what I found from nearly the beginning was that whatever the immediate outcome, these experiences helped to inform and improve my knowledge and understanding overall, including the work I did in the studio.

Since my work is based on the natural world, there is no better reference than nature herself; and one of the main benefits of plein air painting for me is that I am painting from life.  Plein air painting isn't the only way to achieve that of course. I can also set up a still life  or do some figure drawing and painting (which is one reason why I've gotten back into life drawing myself this winter when I can't seem to get myself outside in the cold for more than 5 minutes!)

But the difference with plein air is that not only are you dealing with painting your response to a "live" subject, you are also having to concern yourself with the changing light and many other things that move and change and can't be controlled the way you can do in the studio environment. It's limiting, but not in a bad way. It pushes you to think about simplifying and making the bold statement without having to articulate every little detail, and doing so with a great deal of accuracy at the same time.

That is not to say that by their nature all plein air paintings are "better" than studio paintings. I'm sure anyone who has spent time looking at landscape paintings has probably seen a good deal of strong AND weak paintings produced by both methods. Ultimately, a painting has to stand on its own.

Both methods have their advantages and their limitations, which is why I like to "mix it up". In some respects the two practices could be compared to short-pose gesture drawing vs. longer, more studied sittings done in life drawing. In either case, I'm sharpening my skills of sight and understanding, but using different muscle groups, so to speak. Hopefully with regular practice the dexterity and skill will grow. That's not all there is to art. To be sure, it's not art without individual creativity and expression. But skill and dexterity in the execution sure make it a lot easier for me to better articulate my creative vision.

p.s. I've just gotten word that I've been chosen to participate in the "Painting North Carolina!" plein air invitational sponsored by the Germanton Gallery. The event runs from March 29 through April 2nd, with a reception on April 3rd. Looks like I may have to get outside soon, cold weather or not, to get some practice in before the event!

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.