Reclining nude II- WIP

I started this drawing on Friday in Robert Liberace's "Exploring the Figure" drawing class at the Art League School:

The upper portion is the least resolved so far, but the whole drawing is to be developed further by a kind of push/pull method of adding and subtracting layers of charcoal, followed by highlights in white conte chalk.

Rob started the class with a beautiful demonstration inspired by the techniques of a 19th century French academic artist named Pierre Paul Prud'hon. I had not heard much about this artist, but enjoyed seeing the exquisite reproductions that Rob shared by way of this book:

Rob made particular note of the way in which Prud'hon defined form, and his unique method of shading and highlighting. As this article by artist Rebecca Alzofon  explains very well, Prud'hon had a unique method of shading--in part by creating hatch lines that followed the direction of the form, then stumping and hatching again in a similar manner with highlighting chalks. So in our class, our challenge (should we choose to accept it) is to experiment with working in a similar manner from our model. From my understanding we will work on the same pose for another two or 3 sessions.

In Rob's demonstration he used a Canson gray tinted paper (at about a value #4) which worked well, as it created a light-mid value to contrast with highlighting with white Conte. I again found myself without the proper materials to perform the task. I must have gotten an incomplete or outdated supplies list or something, but all I had was an off-white Rives BFK paper, with which I just made-do by shading with vine charcoal to give me somewhat of a "tone".  I'm not sure at this point how far I can continue developing the current drawing or if it will produce the desired effect. At some point I may just start again with the proper paper, but I'd like to at least take this a little further to see what more I can do.

It has occurred to me that this method of very refined drawing is somewhat more polished than what I'm normally drawn to. Even in the Prud'hon reproductions in the book, I found myself lingering in the passages  of his drawings that were less "finished" and showed more gesture, more of the decision making process, and more of the hand of the artist.

In my own drawing, I notice myself secretly wanting to stop before I lose too much of the gesture. This is probably because in my landscape painting I've set a goal for myself to find ways of stating things more simply...to say "more with less", so to speak and to do it a bit more loosely. At the same time, the whole reason I signed up for this class is to experiment and maybe even learn something new in the process! You can't do that if you are too beholden to your own agenda.

I've been reading a great little book right now by George Leonard called Mastery: The Keys to Success and Long-Term Fulfillment. Leonard is an aikido master so a lot of his analogies in the book are drawn from the martial arts and Zen philosophy. According to the author, one of the keys of mastery is entitled "Surrender":

"The courage of a master is measured by his or her willingness to surrender. This means surrendering to your teacher and to the demands of your discipline. It also means surrendering your own hard-won proficiency from time to time in order to reach a higher or different level of proficiency."

Hmmm. I suspect it probably also means surrendering your own agenda from time to time as well.

Reclining nude sketch

Last night I joined a local figure drawing group. This group met for two hours-- slightly shorter than the usual 2 1/2 to 3 hour sessions I've been to before. The time flew, but I was still there long enough to be reminded again of how out of practice I am! This was my best attempt --a 25 minute pose (one of the longest of the evening).

I really liked the model...she was very dramatic, which made drawing her lots of fun. She was also quite the trooper, lying on what looked to be a very uncomfortable low bench, with her head supported by a wedge-pillow thingy. I felt happy that I at least started to get some of the weight of her pose. But not much else in the way of detail. I think I'll be sticking to charcoal on newsprint paper until I can get myself to a point of more speed and accuracy, which is only going to come with practice and understanding.

 To that end, I'm studying proportion and human anatomy as best I can on my own for now, through books. I picked up a book by Andrew Loomis at the library called "Figure Drawing for All It's Worth". The book was originally published in 1943, and is one of a series of books by the author on similar topics. Loomis was a well known illustrator back in the day and is still referenced by a lot of figurative artists today as a good source for basic and accessible information on human proportion and figure drawing in general. Sadly, his books are now out of print, but you can still find some of them online (another resource is here  ) and possibly at your local library.

Loomis makes some interesting opening comments in the book about "Beginner's Work". There are several telltale signs he lists, but I took note of this one, as I definitely see this occurring in my own figure drawing:

"An overabundance of small fuzzy line:  Do not "pet" in your line, draw it clearly with a long sweep. Do not shade with a multitude of little "pecky" strokes. "

Ya. So in addition to all of the other stuff on anatomy and proportion, one of the things I want to work on is quality of the contour and line. I think the sketchiness comes in part from a lack of confidence/familiarity with the subject. It's much easier to make sketchy marks as you try to find the right placement and proportion. It's something else altogether to put meaningful, lyrical marks in just the right place!

A beautiful day!

I don't much write about "politics" on this blog (if that's even what you'd call it?) but I couldn't let this momentous day pass without noting my own sense of joy and national pride as we prepare to inaugurate Barack Obama  to the presidency. A big part of me wishes that I could have been there in person on this historic day, in spite of the mobs of people, and in spite of the fact that I will likely see more of the actual inauguration on TV than I would do on the ground. As it is, I'll be celebrating by drawing (as one of my nephews would say) "nekked people" ;-) . I'm attempting to make good on one of my artistic goals this year by working more from life and tackling the challenge of the human form. To get started, I've enrolled in weekly class up in Alexandria, VA studying under the very fine classical figurative painter/portraitist Robert Liberace. Liberace is making a name for himself and he's  been featured a few times in American Artist magazine and other publications.

This class is a big one. Not surprisingly he's a popular teacher and in prior years students were lined up outside the Art League School for a chance to enroll in his drawing and painting classes. In light of that the school has expanded his class size to accomodate two classrooms full of students. So at this point I'm not too sure how much face time I'll really get with the instructor. Outside of the first demonstration, I didn't see him much in our room on the first day of class. But I'm hoping this will change as we all settle in to a routine, so that I'll at least be able get more of his input if even indirectly, by watching him interacting with other students my classroom.

Having said that, it was inspiring to watch our instructor's elegant handling of his drawing. I wish I had thought to get a picture of his demo with my camera phone, but I'll try for it next time. Meanwhile, here's one of my first efforts in life drawing in a verrrry long while. Boy did I feel rusty! I'm posting this drawing not because I think it's great, (actually, it looks pretty tentative, like a cave-man drawing compared to the masterful sketch of my teacher!) But I wanted to mark a starting point to track my progress (hopefully) as I go along.

  

How not to succeed at your goals while really trying ;-)

Happy New Year everyone! This past week, I've taken some time to reflect on the common practice of new year goal-setting, and I've enjoyed browsing around the blogosphere to see what others (and particularly other artists) are writing about the subject. Actually artist Katherine Tyrrell has made this task easy for me with the  great series of year end roundup posts she's provided on her blog Making a Mark--  the topics of which extend far beyond goal-setting (though there is a good deal of that too, including Katherine's own set of goals for the new year.) *Note of thanks to Katherine for foot-noting my blog posts on studio lighting in her "art studios in 2009" subsection of "Who's Made a Mark This Week". For myself, unlike previous years I am taking my time and being a bit more reflective about goal setting. Obviously there is value to goal-setting --otherwise there wouldn't be so many people finding satisfaction in doing it. But why is it that so often goal- setting fails to achieve the desired results? I think that in the past I've sometimes been guilty of goal-setting just for the sake of getting things accomplished, without really examining whether the goals are really worthy ones. Taking this approach  leaves me feeling either unfulfilled even if things get "done" or disappointed  because I didn't accomplish more. It also keeps me so in the mode of wanting to "get there already" that I don't enjoy the process nearly as well. 

So in thinking about how to set more meaningful goals for myself, I've also been thinking about why goal-setting so often doesn't satisfy. There are any number of reasons, of course, but here's a shortlist that I've come up against.

How not to succeed at your goals while really trying:

• Don't ask "WHY?" Why do I want (or think I want) to do, be, have, or achieve this?  What do I hope to gain? How will this improve my life, my work, or the lives of others? These seem like  obvious questions, but without asking these essential questions first, it's easy to find yourself pursuing goals that aren't meaningful, and sometimes aren't even yours! (see bullet #2) In a nutshell, asking the essential "Why?" helps to get to the heart of what is driving you. 
•  Set goals that deep down you don't really care about just because you think you should or because others think you should. For an artist, these might include things like setting a goal to get work into a gallery or earn a certain dollar amount from your art, for fear that failing to do so will mean you will be perceived as "unsuccessful". Or setting a goal to paint in a certain manner  or by a certain method because you feel others think it is a more legitimate form or method than some other one. Mind you, none of these are wrong choices as long as they support what you want deep down. But here's a tip; if there are a lot of "shoulds" in your goals, that's worth examining before you commit to them, to see if they really serve you. Otherwise, setting these kinds of goals can often set you up for feelings of "failure". If your heart isn't really in it all the way, you're likely to go for it halfway or not at all. 
•  Be unrealistic- It's been my personal experience that my trouble has not been the size of the goal, but the timeline I set to achieve it. Setting far greater goals than you can possibly achieve in a given timeline creates more stress than inspiration.
• Set goals that aren't challenging enough- Being realistic about time and/or resources doesn't mean  you should feel bored. If your goal leaves you feeling flat-lined, are you really going to be inspired to devote the time needed to go for it? In order to motivate myself, my goal has to be beyond my comfort zone. I want any goal I set this year to make my heart go pitter-patter. It should inspire, excite, ignite and sometimes maybe even feel a little scary.
• Be over-expansive. It has taken me a number of years to get this, (41 to be exact) but I think (I hope) I am finally learning that setting too many goals in a given time-period is not only hard to manage in terms of time, but it also splits my focus too much. I'm finding it's better for me to limit myself to fewer more meaningful goals in order to really give them the proper attention required.   This doesn't mean that I won't break the big stuff down into smaller milestones, but the milestones and activities should support one of my main goals, not set me off in 100 different directions.
• Set goals without making a plan to go about it.  It does me no good whatsoever to set even meaningful goals without breaking them down into plans of action. In order to track progress, a high level goal could then be broken down into:
  • milestones along the way (these should be measurable)
  • activities needed to reach those milestones
  • a schedule  to carry out those activities (monthly and weekly schedules are good, but for me it has to be daily).
• Lack balance- This is a very personal matter. Some people do just fine with letting other matters drop for a while in order to hyper-focus on achieving one goal. Not so with me. I'm already an "uber-focuser" and unless I intentionally set goals that address all important aspects of my life, I miss out on fun stuff (like, oh,  sleep, proper diet and exercise, fulfilling relationships,  and time for fun, for instance!) And without those things in balance, soon there is no joy even in the things I dearly want to achieve artistically.

It's easy to jump into a litany of to-do's, but it may take a little longer to step back first and examine the big picture to see if your goals really speak to the greater vision you have for yourself. As I go through my own process I am finding I do have an overarching theme that I want to focus on this year in relationship to my art.

Back to school

Ideally this would include "real-time" instruction and mentoring, and I am hopeful I will be able to find the time and resources to pursue that. But after all, I have a ton of art books to keep me busy and they will help me to commit myself to a regular staple of study through experimentation, self-guided lessons, etc. *Note: For a fascinating and inspiring look at one artist's documented learning processes, check out Paul Foxton's wonderful info-packed site Learning to See.

Also, I love landscape painting and I will continue with this tract, but I'm feeling a great desire to become reacquainted with and develop a greater understanding of the human form. Along those lines, I will make a greater commitment to paint much more often from life--if not daily, nearly so.  Whether this means painting en plein air or still life or portraiture, (or even if it is a 5 minute sketch waiting for my haircut) I continue to see so much benefit to this practice and its time to commit to working from life as a regular discipline.

Obviously all of this will need to be worked out in greater detail into more specific goals and a measurable plan, but this is where I'm heading as for the year ahead. I guess if I had to boil everything down to one word I'd say that what it is I'm after is to achieve a greater level of mastery with my work.

Mastery

Now that's a big, expansive scary word if I ever saw one! And  while it's really too broad to write down as a year long goal,  it can be a guidepost by which my artistic goals can be set. It is said that it takes 10,000 hours to achieve mastery at something. Whether or not this is exact, what it tells me is that it's not something that's likely to be attained in a year!  It's not as if I'm starting from zero, but even so, in truth it may not even be attained in a lifetime, for that matter, even with a disciplined plan.

I do wonder though, as an artist, how do you really know you've arrived? Do you suddenly wake up one day and say, "I'm a master!" It seems a bit of a moving target. Each new level of understanding inevitably leads to new questions, new challenges, and raising the bar ever higher. To quote Gertrude Stein, "There is no there there."

To my mind, arriving really isn't the point. The way I see it, mastery has more to do with a state of being than a state of arriving. It's more about process than it is about product. It's a state of flow. Certainly there is tangible accomplishment produced as well, and I guess the accomplishment part is what we tend to focus on when we think of someone mastering something. But I really see those kinds of results as more of a by-product of something much greater. And yet, it is the by-products that are the most measurable so that's the starting point I'll use to make my plan.  Better get to it. 10000 hours is a long way off.

A painting between contractors- St. Cirq La Popie, France

Well, I've stopped fooling myself that I'm going to get away any time soon to work on larger oil paintings. Setting these kinds of impossible goals when we've scheduled back to back contractors for the new studio (painters, hvac, electrician/lighting) just sets me up for frustration. So the last time I stopped by my temporary painting space, I grabbed my watercolors and a few drawing supplies for a little painting at the "kitchen table studio". It's been some time since I've done any watercolor work, so it took me a while to get a feel for it.  But it sure is nice to focus on something other than lighting fixtures, and the great thing about these kinds of pieces is that I can always later develop these compositions into larger oil paintings down the road:

"Private Garden, St. Cirq Lapopie" 9x12", Watercolor and Conte Crayon

I had the thrill of driving to the beautiful village of St. Cirq Lapopie (St. Cirq is pronounced something like "San Seer") at the tail end of my trip earlier this year to the Lot and Dordogne in southwestern France. It was a thrill because it was a breathtakingly beautiful location; but as well because my rental car felt not that much bigger (or safer) than a tin can, and  the winding road that leads to the village hugs the cliffside that drops a few hundred feet to the Lot River below. This is a view of the village from the overlook near the parking lot:

 

Even though the hike down the near-shoulderless road was also treacherous, I'd have to say it was all well worth the risk. It's a touristed village,  but with good reason. Wonderfully preserved 13th to 16th century Quercy buildings with pitched rooves line narrow streets overflowing with flowers.  Perched high above the ambling Lot river, its "picture-book prettiness" has earned it the well deserved designation of one of France's most beautiful villages. To be sure, I'll be posting more paintings of this village (watercolors and eventually oils) in the days ahead.

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.

Another plein air visit to Ginter Botanical Gardens

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

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

A few announcements

Being heavily immersed in summer activities I'm afraid I've kind of fallen off the blog wagon lately. But things have been happening behind the scenes, and I'd thought I'd share a few interesting tidbits of what's coming down the pike.

• France in 2009! I've just gotten the word that my dates for a 10 day plein air painting workshop at Le Vieux Couvent have been confirmed! If you've been reading my blog, you've already heard my raves about this beautiful, enchanting part of Southern France.

I'm excited to have the opportunity to take a group there myself, for 10 days of painting, touring, eating, and just soaking in the atmosphere. Dates are June 3-13, 2009. This year during that time period I had word from the workshop host that the poppies were in full bloom and the roses were going crazy in the garden. I'm preparing my brochure now and should have it up on my website by next week. If you have an interest in joining me for this wonderful creative adventure, please check back, or just contact me and I'll send you a brochure with all the details as soon it's done

•  Moving ahead. Well it just seemed like yesterday that I moved into my beautiful gallery space, but the time has come for me to make another move. I don't have a lot of details to share yet, but come fall I will be letting go of the downtown gallery location. I'm sure I'll be writing on that in the weeks ahead but a lot of details need to be ironed out before I really have anything solid to share.
•  Warm up to Plein Air! Since the time of my last workshop this past spring, I've received a number of inquiries asking when I'd be having another class. Due to the aforementioned upcoming move, I had to wait a bit to schedule anything solid. But here's what I'd like to do: In September I'd like to offer some one-day plein air modules in the Richmond area that I'm calling "Warm up to Plein Air."  If you are a painter who has always wanted to try plein air painting, this will be a fun opportunity to give it a shot. Experienced plein air painters can benefit as well, as this day-long module will include a demo and time for painting. We'll talk about the tools of the trade that I've found useful, plus tips to make the most of your time outdoors. I'm limiting these modules to a very small size so we can make the most of our time together. Dates and details will be posted on my website, hopefully also by next week. Meantime, feel free to contact me if you're interested.

Plein air in a French country garden

Now that we're really getting into the summer weather here, I'm starting to see my gardens taking shape. For the beds alongside my house, I'm slowly building an herb and butterfly garden. Budget restraints required that I experiment with starting from seed for a few things, but mostly I just started from very tiny plants and mixed in a few summer bulbs. Gardening is a pretty new pastime for me, so  believe me, every new growth or flower is a triumph.

In Virginia, if you dig deep enough, you will soon hit clay, which makes building any kind of new bed a bit of a chore, as you really have to work in a lot of good loose topsoil, soil conditioner, and fertilizer to make the plants take to it kindly. It kind of makes me shake my head a little when I visit places like the south of France. Roses practically grow out of the cracks of the sidewalks there! Okay, the gardeners there do have do deal with the rocks (and a lot of them) so I guess we all have our gardening challenges.

The old French country convent where I stayed had a labyrinth of beautiful gardens. I believe the current owners have had the place for a little over 10 years, and while they started with a property that had "good bones", all of the gardens were as a result of their own sweat and muscle. The gardens were set out like little outdoor sanctuaries, and there was something to discover in every nook and cranny of the property.

To the painter's eye, there were a thousand possibilities just within the confines of Le Vieux Couvent itself. But I was drawn particularly to the little goldfish pond out back.So apparently was one of the resident cats, "Portia". With so much touring, I didn't really have much time to paint on the grounds of the property, but I did do this little watercolor sketch of Portia by the pond one morning before we set off on another excursion:

My layout was such that I couldn't quite get in the pond itself. But I came back one morning after the group from the "artist retreat" left,  and painted  a more close-up view again in oils:

"Bassin à Poisson Rouge" (The Goldfish Pond) Oil on Linen, 11x14" Click here for more info.

La France Profonde- countryside painting (wip)

Time was of the essence during this painting holiday. While not overrun with museums, there are so many living, breathing, and lovely places to experience in this area. What I mean by that is that this region is considered by many to be "La France Profonde". What I mean by THAT is that the Lot and the Dordogne embody so many of the characteristics of what one would think of as truly and profoundly French. The production of their food and wine, farming, and, well, their manner of living, is still very much practiced in traditional ways. Yes, there is a lot to see, (chateaux, winding and ambling river valleys, lovely medieval villages, and of course French markets and shops). But this is a place to be experienced.

There were a thousand potential paintings right around the old convent where we stayed. So to make the most of our time, we decided  to paint the sunrise. We got up extra early and headed out to paint a lovely sheep pasture that had been spotted by a the "early morning walkers" in our group. Only, there was no sun to be seen. Instead, (and even better) there was the most beautiful soft fog lifting off of the grass:

Work in Progress (as yet untitled) Oil on Linen, 11x14"

When we set up to paint, we had a couple of dilemmas. The sheep were in the neighboring pasture. But who could resist painting this little chateau? No problem. We'll just paint the chateau and move to the next pasture to add the sheep. (Hey, that's the beauty of being an artist, right?) 

The other challenge was the that we knew this etherial effect of fog would soon burn off, so we had to work quickly to capture what we saw as best we could, alla prima. Actually, the opposite happened. Instead of lifting off, the fog actually settled in thicker, nearly obscuring the upper part of the hillside trees.

This was as far as I got. It's almost there but I feel there are some areas that need to be resolved, like the foreground and the area just above the chateau. I'd also like to develop a bit more surface texture. The trick will be not to lose the freshness that is so characteristic of plein air painting. We'll see.

In any event, one bonus for us is that the sheep actually (eventually) decided to head over to the pasture with the chateau. Those critters can move, so you never know which way they're going to head. But we got lucky. Merci les moutons!

Sketches from France- plus a brag

Just before I left for France my dear friends Jack and Mikki sent me some wonderful books on travel sketching. My favorite from the group is Artist En Routeby Betty Lynch. (A quick look at the price that this book is now going for makes me glad that I got this as a gift!) Betty is a very talented watercolorist, but I am partial to her simple pen and ink sketches, and they inspired me to keep my own little art journal for my trip.

I brought a 5x8" moleskine journal with me, which fit nicely into my carryall bag. Never one to be without as many options as possible, I chose the notebook that would accept watercolors (though most of my sketches were pen and ink.) Here's one with my notes of the Abbey I blogged about yesterday:

Most of these were just quick little jots, but the journal really helped me to lock in the memories in place, and keep track of the places we visited in sequential order. So many times on action packed trips like these, all of the memories start to blend together after a while, so I really recommend this combination of traveling, sketching and journaling. 

On the same day that we visited Abbaye Nouvelle, we also visited the village of Beynac (in the Dordogne), with its fascinating 12th century chateau perched atop dramatic limestone cliffs. Only time for a quick sketch for this part of the itinerary, which I did after our picnic lunch by the river bank. We are steeped deep into Medieval history here; this castle is where Richard the Lionheart met his death!

***And now, we interrupt this art travel log for a quick brag ;-). There is a fine new oil painter in the Young family, and she's got a blog! Check out my very talented niece, Molly Young and her Daily Painting blog.

Molly came all the way up from Texas to take my April workshop this past spring, and I got the chance to see her talent in person. I wish I could say I had something to do with it, but she's been cutting her own path for a while now and I look forward to seeing where she takes it. Her blog is brand new, but she's been painting for a couple of years, and she's a quick study to boot.

The fruit trees of early spring were all abloom while Molly was here visiting, and we took advantage of it by heading up to Monticello for a quick visit.  Here's a shot of the two of us at Monticello:

 

Molly's got some wonderful new paintings from that visit on her blog. Here's one of my faves.

Flying with artist oil paints, plus tips for plein air

As I set out to answer a few questions about traveling with paint from fellow painter Marilyn King, I realized the length of my response was worthy of its own blog post! So Marilyn, thanks for the assignment! :-)  There are a million different approaches, a million different solutions; but here are some ideas: Oil paints; Lighten the load!

While it is more economical to use larger 150 ml tubes, I generally save them for use in the studio. (In fact, for my white and some other colors, I buy in even larger quantities --either in cans or in caulking guns.)  But if you're using a double primary palette en plein air, lugging big tubes of each color can get a little weighty! For this reason, I keep a set of smaller tubes for plein air painting. I generally carry one large 150 ml white out on the field and smaller tubes of the other colors. A couple of other options:

• Yes, you guessed it--limit your palette. This gets easier to do the more you try it. There are many plein air painters who limit to 3 primaries plus white to get all of their colors. This is Kevin Macpherson's suggestion in his first book on plein air painting, and even in the second one  (though he does get a little more expansive in the latter). A limited palette  does simplify things for plein air.
  • Cadmium yellow light, Alizarin Crimson, and Ultramarine Blue plus white would be one example of a single primary palette. In this case you might even bring larger tubes since you'll have fewer of them. I've often used this palette as stated or supplemented only slightly with one additional color (e.g. a small amt. of phtalo green.)
  • While it can seem pretty limiting at first, a limited palette will create more overall unity in your painting,  it is a very good practice for anyone who is interested in learning about mixing color. 
•  Squeeze out your colors on your palette before going out to paint. Obviously this won't work if you're flying on a plane! The down side is that most beginning plein air painters don't squeeze out enough paint on their palette to begin with! And even if you're used to painting outside it can still be a challenge to judge how much you'll need.
• Transfer your colors into smaller containers (again, won't work with flying!)
  • Jerry's Artarama (and probably other art supply stores) even sell empty paint tubes for this purpose.
  • Paint film canisters or other readily available plastic containers could also be useful, though be aware of the depth as it may be a challenge to dig the paint out after a while.  Another option is to find the larger sized pill box containers. You know, the kind that have slots for each day of the week? I did this for a while, but since this is a temporary solution, I eventually got lazy and just bought smaller tubes for plein air.
  • Note: Many plastics may eventually degrade--particularly the lids that are often made of the softer plastic needed for flexibility. I like to leave a plein air "emergency kit" in my car and I have had containers made of softer plastic degrade, warp, ooze and pucker over time. Yuck.

Yes, but what about flying with oils?

For flying, here are some solutions I've gleaned from others and from trial and error:

• First, I wrap my paint tubes in foam sheeting or bubble wrap to reduce the chance of puncture, and then pack all of my paints in ziplock bags in my checked bag. (You can't bring paints or mediums in your carry on.) 
• I also enclose MSDS sheets in the bags with my paints, as provided by the manufacturers. These sheets list the flash points for the paints. According to the Gamblin website, artist oil paints contain vegetable oil and no solvent, and you're good to go if your paints have a flashpoint of 140 degrees F (or above). *If bringing a painting medium, check to make sure that it does not have a higher flashpoint before packing it!
• If questioned by airline security, explain that these are artist's oil colors and have no solvents, and provide the documentation that says the same. It seems the word "paint" can possibly set off undue alarm.
• Buy turpentine in the destination country (en Francais- "La terebentine"; in Italiano- "La trementina"!)
• If possible, just bring your tools and supports, and consider buying paints in your destination country. This is actually a lot of fun! If you haven't been in an art supply store in Paris, you owe it to yourself to go any way. I always feel like a kid in a candy shop when I do.
• If you'll be in a more "out of the way" or unfamiliar location, you might research art supply stores in the area where you'll be going. Did you know that the regional visitor centers are extremely helpful? In the past I've just sent them an email and gotten back a list of stores in the vicinity prior to my departure.
• Lastly, you just might check into water soluble oil colors. I need to experiment more with these some day. It's hard to beat the tried and true, but WS oil do eliminate a few challenges for the portable studio, and many artists report being pleased with their results.

 Medium or no medium?

 Often times I don't even use a medium for plein air painting because it seems like even with just a little bit of breeze, any kind of alkyd medium gets a "skin" before I can even use it. However, there are times when it is handy; especially if I want to try and hasten the drying time of my paintings.

• An alkyd based medium (Liquin, etc.) is useful for this, and fairly portable if you can buy it in a small bottle.
• Another option is Wingel (by W&N) or Lukas Painting Butter, both of which come in tubes. But being more "solid," the tube mediums seem to dry up even faster than the liquids, so the key is to use it sparingly if you're going to use it (a good practice any way).
• If hastening the drying time is what you're after, you might just look into getting an alkyd-based white for plein air. I have found that when I use Gamblin's "Quick-Dry White" it helps speed up the drying time of my entire painting while still keeping the painting open for a good while.
• If you are reliant on a medium to increase viscosity (flow), be aware that turps and paint thinner are *not* mediums and should not be used  to thin paint beyond perhaps the very beginning "sketching" stages of your painting. They will weaken the paint film.
• Again, if you're going to be flying, check the flashpoint before packing the medium! If it's too high, leave it at home and consider doing without or buying it at your destination.

Small WIP & value sketches amid the rubble

A series of wet gray days have kept me from painting outside, so I've spent some time putting my studio  (and myself!) back together in the aftermath of the workshop. For me, "spring cleaning" always seems to make things look worse before they get better.

I have little piles around me...piles of books, of paperwork, and also a small pile of unfinished paintings. Among the latter is this demo painting that I started in the workshop, which I may noodle around with and bring to a more finished state. It's small, just 12x9", so we're talking maybe just orzo or macaroni-sized noodling.

I started this workshop demo talking about composition and values and how they related to each other. Since we were working with the limitations of photographs, I wanted to try to get folks to think about the possibility of composition beyond just what they saw in front of them in the picture. When I'm painting en plein air, I will often do a series of small value sketches before I jump right into painting. I will use this same approach too in the studio, to develop my design.

Along with a contour sketch, it is extremely helpful to do this in a very abbreviated quick grayscale, so that I can get a general idea of my value relationships and the overall design that is created not only by the placement of line but also by the pattern of dark and light:

 

This is not a new concept, of course. Artists have forever been studying and writing about the arrangement of values (lights and darks) to compose a strong design. The artsy fartsy term for this is "Notan". Okay, it's actually Japanese. Notan sketches can be fleshed out in recongnizable contours (like mine above) or they can be very quick and gestural thumbnail abstractions created for the purpose of identifying the underlying design.

The values are generally limited to four or less.  I used 2 markers; black and light gray, deriving my middle gray from a blending of the two, and letting the white of the paper stand as my lightest value. 

Of course, in life we see a much wider range of values, but in designing and executing a painting, I'm learning that simpler is often better.  If you look at many of Monet's paintings, you might notice that many of them have a very small range of values indeed, and he used color temperature and very soft edges to add a wonderful sense of atmospheric depth to his work.

A quick Google search for "Notan" yielded some good results for further exploration:

• A good series of Notan lessons from Virtual Art Academy
• Artist Robert Genn discusses Notan in his inspirational newsletter "The Painter's Keys"
• Painter Ed Terpening does it!
• Katherine Tyrrell does too.

How about you?

Plein Air Easels- A pochade box for travel

This is my 4th in a series of posts about artist's easels. You can see the other installments here:Part I: On the quest for the perfect easel Part II: Guerilla Painters' Pochade Box Part III: My Soltek Easel

After having already written extensively about my Soltek love, it may seem curious that I'd have yet another pochade- style easel to write about. But what I've found (and I'm sure other plein air painters can empathize) is that the quest for the most versatile and easy to use plein air easel must be tempered with the quest for the lightest possible plein air setup. This is especially important if you're an artist who likes to travel.

With the airline regulations being what they are, it has become more and more of a challenge trying to figure out what items to check (if any) and what items to carry on in the ever-diminishing size of the acceptable carry on bag. While I may not be able to bring all of my art supplies with me on the plane, I prefer to have my easel in my carry-on. When traveling overseas, this sometimes means carrying my bag while running to make a flight connection, so a lightweight and compact bag becomes all the more important.

While the Soltek is lighter than many other setups, I still found myself wondering, "Can I go lighter?"  The answer is, of course, yes. Surely there are many options for going lighter, but the one I chose was the "Prochade Kit" by EasyL,  referenced in a book I blogged about a while back by Kevin Macpherson;  Landscape Painting Inside & Out.

I had seen other EasyL paint boxes and I was impressed by the setup. In fact, if I hadn't already gotten a Soltek I might have seriously considered the EasyL Versa, which offers a good deal of versatility while still being lightweight, and at a much more wallet-friendly price. But having already made my "primary" plein air easel selection, I honed in on the Prochade Kit for travel.

At first, I thought I'd only get the little box. After all, I already had a tripod and a couple of bags. But after really examining the Kit, which included a lighter-weight tripod, a GREAT bag, and a number of other nifty add-ons and doo-dads, I justified that it was a decent buy, considering. I really feel like a lot of thought went into the design of the kit, and with everything weighing in at around 10 lbs, I couldn't imagine as detailed a  setup that is much lighter.

When I first got this little box, I was a bit wary. Compared to the other models I'd experienced, the box seemed a little TOO light, and I was concerned about its fragility. The adaptive panel holder appears to raise and lower by the means of some kind of internal spring. I wasn't used to this kind of mechanism and wondered if it would hold up, but after several months of use it has so far worked fine. It does come with a warning, however, not to extend this mechanism beyond the 10" high limit. It holds panel heights from 6 to 10 inches, and any reasonable width. Since I usually paint on the small side out of doors, and particularly when I'm traveling, this was actually fine for me. And while I feel the external latches that close the box are on the flimsy side, the knob and sliding hinge are of a quality that is actually quite good.

But probably what I like most about this kit is the bag. It has a perfect number of slots, pockets, and compartments, making packing and organizing supplies a breeze. While this bag isn't suitable for larger easels or thicker pochade boxes, it is perfect for a true cigar-style pochade box, whether purchased from EasyL or home-made. It is  the right size for the airline carry-on regulations; and while it is lightweight, it is extremely durable and has enough padding to make it comfortable to carry.

Overall I have been quite happy with the kit, for the main reason that it met my specific needs of a travel box that is lightweight, but complete enough so that I can do more than just light sketching. But I don't know that I'd recommend this kit as a primary setup for the every day plein air. Even weighted down,  it does not hold up in the wind--and I've found myself holding on to it for dear life during some unexpected wind gusts.

I'll close this little book on plein air easels with some final thoughts.

• Do plenty of research before you buy your plein air easel, but beyond that, give some thought to the way you typically paint. If you don't paint large, you probably don't need an easel that accomodates a 30" high canvas. Perhaps even consider writing down the key features that are important to you in a plein air easel before shopping.

• You don't have to spend a lot of money to paint en plein air. There are a number of options that are quite inexpensive that you can start with before taking the leap of buying a fancier model:

  • One of the most inexpensive commercially available models I've found is the Studio RTA simple tripod steel easel. Nothing fancy, but quite sturdy and lightweight (though because of this it will probably not stay put in strong wind.) With this model, you'll have to hold your palette and find somewhere to put your supplies, but at $40 it's a decent deal. I have a couple of these easels at my studio for workshops and they work quite well.

  • Another option is just to consider making your own plein air setup if you are particularly handy. I've promised my husband that this is going to be my next pochade box . Cost? Under $15! (hand slapping squarely on forehead.) Thank you to Ellie Clemons for the wonderfully detailed instructions, and to artist John Haynes' thoughtful blog  that I just discovered for pointing me to Ellie's page. Also check out artist David Cornelius' hand made work-in-progress "easel pal" for some additional ideas.

• If your art travels involve flying, be sure to check out the many (and seemingly ever-changing) guidelines and regulations before deciding what to bring and what to leave at home. The Gamblin website has some useful tips about traveling with your paints. Artist Robert Genn had a good discussion going not too long ago on this subject also, on "The Painter's Keys" --a website that offers artists tips on matters both practical and inspirational.

• Have fun and happy painting!

Art for Food Auction- "Golden Days" Tuscany painting

Today I have a new offering up for auction to benefit the Central Virginia Foodbank. This is another watercolor/pen and ink painting of the golden sunflowers of Tuscany:

"Golden Days" Watercolor/Pen & Ink on Arches Paper 7x10" (Image size 5x7") This painting has sold, but you can see the current auction by clicking here.

A two-fer; Lake Como Paintings

My schedule has been NUTS lately so unfortunately my blog has suffered a bit of benign neglect. Still alive and kicking and painting, however. Here's something I thought I'd try to see if I might be able to save a little money on paint. A lot of times when I paint I can mix too much color, (which I still think is far better than mixing too little). These mixtures can be reused of course, especially if the subsequent painting needs similar hues. But I'm not always good about consciously planning my subjects like that. So here's a conscious effort to get two paintings going at the same time with color mixtures that relate to each other:

 The key will be not to just lazily use what's already mixed if it doesn't really suit what I'm painting. In hindsight it might have been better to start one large painting and one small painting instead of two rather ambitiously sized pieces, (they are both 30x40".) But I guess I was feeling cocky when I started these! 

While I did the transparent color block-ins  one after the other, what is happening  as I proceed is that I am still focusing on one individually, with an occasional switch-off when I need a change.  I don't really know if I'm conserving much paint, but it does keep things interesting. ;-) In case you can't tell what these are, the subject matter for both pieces is Lake Como, Italy. The painting on the left will be a more fleshed out version of the little watercolor painting I did for my last charity auction.

Speaking of which, a new Art for Food Auction will be posted by tomorrow morning!

Soltek- the ultimate plein air easel?

This is part 3 in a series of posts I'm writing about my quests for easels, plein air or otherwise. You can read the saga from the beginning  or jump to another section here:Part I: On the quest for the perfect easel Part II: Guerilla Painters' Pochade Box Part IV: A pochade box for travel

Easel #3: The Soltek. All hail and bow down to the mother of all plein air easels! Okay, my Soltek has had its problems, but I still love this easel. The Soltek is a portable easel that seems to be in a class by itself. The easel is both "space age" in technical design, and extremely flexible in its configuration:

The telescoping legs fold into themselves the same way they do in a camera tripod. But unlike the pochade box/tripod combo, the Soltek is all self contained, making setup lightning fast. The legs and the overall design  also make this easel extremely  resistant in the wind, which is probably one of the most difficult weather conditions of all  for the plein air painter.

Other features  I really love  about the Soltek:

• The two wings fold out on either side of the palette to allow for additional space to set brushes, paint thinner, etc. This is an especially important feature (as artists always "need" more space) and one that isn't usually acheived on the other paint boxes I've seen without purchasing separate attachments and adding more weight to the setup.
• The design of the upper and lower canvas holders cover the canvas edges only minimally and flip out indidually so that you can easily cover the edges of your painting without interrupting flow.
• Versatility--it can be configured in many different ways, at many different angles. The  easel will support a canvas up to 30" high-- a real plus for those who like to paint large outdoors. With this versatility, it can also function as a smaler studio easel or even a table easel if you want.
• Weight--even though you have a lot more work space, the whole configuration is sleek and weighs just  9 lbs.

Like the French easel models and the bulkier pochade boxes, this easel has space underneath the plastic palette to store brushes and paint tubes, etc (but not the standard brush cleaner containers). It has a carrying strap attached to the easel, but I still find it necessary to have a  backpack or bag  for additional supplies and for hiking or carrying longer distances.

While this model is thinner and sleeker than  the pochade box I blogged about earlier, it is about as long and nearly as wide as a full French easel (though not nearly as deep), and I have found it difficult to locate a good backpack that will accomodate this easel while still meeting the new airline carry-on restrictions. Soltek does sell its own backpack just for this easel. It works, and you can carry it on the plane, though it could stand to be a bit better designed, with additional padding for hiking, and some better thought-out storage compartments.

But  for all of Soltek's largely  wonderful features, I would never recommend that a beginning plein air painter invest in such a product, for the simple reason that it is far too expensive for a casual user. Even for the die-hard, I am hesitant to recommend it without reservation. Not only is it expensive, it's also like a high-tech  car with a lot of fancy  gizmos. It takes  greater care to maintain, and by methods that  can sometimes be  more costly and inconvenient than going to the hardware store for a wingnut.

It is advised that you keep the easel clean and free of paint, particularly in the areas of the  joints and legs. For someone who gets paint in her hair every time she paints on location, this is a real challenge. And while the telescoping legs are wonderful, they also seem to  give people the most problems. Mine tended to either slip (and not remain extended) or stick (unable to easily close) after only about a year or so of moderate use. The Soltek support people suggested that this sometimes occurs when painters take the easel out onto the beach, where grains of sand get up into the legs. Only I had never taken mine to the beach or anywhere near sand.

The other issue I had was that  the plastic hinges that allow the winged flaps to fold outward and remain open  broke on me, also  after only about a year or so. Soltek support says they now have better hinges and they did offer a couple of options. 1.) They could send me replacement hinges or 2.) I could pay $50 plus shipping to get a Soltek "tuneup" which would address both issues I was having.

Yes, you guessed it.  I forked over the $50. Due to my already considerable investment, I justified the expense since I had at least a couple of rather critical things in need of repair. It was back within a couple of weeks, and has since been working fine. But for the price of this easel (which costs as much or more than  some larger studio easels), I still feel these issues are not what I would have expected after 1-2 years of moderate use.

In any event, I still love it, and when working properly, it  is by far the easiest in terms of setup and versatility of all the portable easels I've experienced. I will continue to use it as long as I can reasonably maintain it. So why would I ever need another plein air easel? Well, besides the need for a backup in case of another Soltek break down, I probably don't. But that didn't stop me from one more purchase. (Remember, this was before I admitted I had a problem.) I'll cover that in the next installment.

Plein air easels- the pochade box

*Note: This is the second in a series of posts I am writing about artist's easels. To read the other installments, click on the following links:Part I: On the quest for the perfect easelPart III: My Soltek Easel Part IV: A pochade box for travel

Picking up on my previous post about artist easels, today I'll discuss plein air easel #2; my first pochade box. The word "pochade" comes from the French word "pocher" meaning "to sketch".  Popularized in the 19th century by landscape painters such as the Impressionists, a pochade box was a small wooden sketch box (sometimes called a "thumb box")  with a hinged lid that could be held in the hand, to easily take into the field for small sketches and painting studies (pochades.) Today, what we call a pochade box comes in many different sizes beyond the tiny hand-held variety.

After I developed my "wingnut aversion" the pochade box idea really appealed to me, as the modern boxes are made to attach to a camera tripod, which has telescoping legs. The box I chose was the Guerilla Painter's Pochade Box (9x12")

 

As you can see here, this particular pochade box has a hinged lid that holds  9x12" panels, and can readily take any panel that is 12" wide. The wood palette slides out to reveal little compartments to hold supplies. Like other pocade boxes, this one has a tripod mount to take any standard camera tripod. The tripod shown above is the Guerilla Painter's brand, but I chose a Bogen Manfrotto Jr. tripod, which I purchased for a steal on eBay. Bogen is a good brand and the "junior" Manfrotto model is sturdy while still being reasonably lightweight.

The Guerilla Painter's box is a fine pochade box that will likely last many years. It is a strudy piece of gear and will withstand frequent use. You could klunk the thing on the ground and not make a dent.  The box is well constructed, and performs as described by the manufacturer.  In many ways, you could do far worse than this box for the quality, and while the price has gone up since I made my purchase, the basic setup seems  comparable to other painting boxes on the market.

This box is certainly more compact and practical than the stodgy El Greco, and also a bit lower in weight. But once you consider the weight of the required tripod, the weight of the basic box is about the same weight as the traditional French half  box easel. However, this changes if you want more versatility. For example, at the time of my purchase, it was necessary to buy various inserts and attachments to best allow for the use of smaller 8x10" and 6x8" canvases, though the company later developed a slip in easel that allowed for a bit more versatility.

Not only are addtional accessories another thing to keep up with, but they added more overall weight to the painting setup (though my wallet soon began to feel lighter). In addition, while I find it far less awkward than the full French easel, the deep boxy shape made it a bit bulky and cumbersome for travel. The manufacturer,  Judson's Art Outfitters does sell compatible backpacks, however, along with many other nifty plein air accessories suitable for any plein air painter, whether using the Guerilla Painter's pochade box or some other brand. 

This is a picture of my own Guerilla Painter's Pochade box with the Bogen Manfrotto Jr. tripod. You might be able to make out the insert I'm using to accomodate my 8x10" painting. I use a bungee chord to hold my paper towels and a plastic bag for trash. Beneath the tripod there are two bags. One is a bag that actually goes to a folding portable chair that has a a shoulder strap. I confiscated it to carry my tripod. The box did not fit in any of the backpacks I owned, so I used the large canvas LLBean tote  shown in the background  to carry my pochade box and other supplies.

The  bulk of this box is largely due to the enclosed compartment designed to hold paint tubes and other supplies, which for some could actually be a useful component.  But the storage compartments are an insufficient size to hold long-handled paint brushes without first sawing off a part of the handle. And the little square compartment that logically looks as if it wil be perfect to hold your paint thinner is too shallow for the standard brush washers, so you will either need to pack your brush washer separately, buy one from Judson Art Outfitter's, or find a small jar suitable to fit in the compartment once the lid is closed. (Not a big deal, but still worth noting if you've already invested in a brush washer.) And while it's moderately convenient to have paint tubes right under my palette, the way these compartments were configured seemed to add more bulk than convenience.

So while there is certainly nothing wrong with this box, I found  that along with the bulk, it was a slight annoyance that the accessories necessary to make this box its most versatile added weight and needed to be purchased separately.  I am now thinking of selling my Guerilla Painters Pochade box or just  keeping  it as a backup (Update: It's off the market. I ended up gifting this to my talented niece Molly) in case something happens to.... Plein Air Easel #3. In many ways, #3 is a slice of plein air heaven. But this heaven comes with a couple of caveats, and a pretty hefty price. More on that in the next installment.

*Note: This is the second in a series of posts I am writing about artist's easels. To continue reading the other installments, click on the following links:

Part I: On the quest for the perfect easel Part III: My Soltek Easel Part IV: A pochade box for travel

Just posted- original Tuscany painting auction-$24.99!

I hope you fared better on your Valentines day than we did- we're dealing with that awful flu that's been making the rounds here in Richmond. But I've momentarily arisen from the dead to post a new "Art For Food" auction. How's that for dedication? 95% of the proceeds will be donated to the Central Virginia Foodbank. The title of this painting means "The Heart of Tuscany", and to me, the Val d'Orcia in Southern Tuscany was just that. I loved the way the Cypress trees punctuated the winding country roads:

"Il Cuore della Toscana" Watercolor/Pen & Ink on heavy deckled edge paper 8x11" (image size 6x8")

This auction has ended, but you can see the latest Art For Food Auctions here!

New painting of Provence lavender for auction, just $25

Announcing a new "Art for Food" charity auction for the Central Virginia Foodbank (CVFB). I admit it isn't easy to put some of these works up for auction, but it's a good cause, so what the hay. I love this little Provence lavender painting and I hope you will too... and I can always use this work as a study to make a larger piece in oil. Opening bids are just $24.99 and 95% of the proceeds will be donated to the CVFB:

"Summer Garden" (Provence, France) Watercolor/pen & ink on Arches heavy watercolor paper, 8x10" Auction starts at 12:30 EST on 2/07/08

This auction has ended, but you can bid on the latest auction here!