Wild Roses (France); and thoughts on painting loose

As mentioned in my previous post, here's a new painting about to come off the easel. Maybe a touch or two yet to go, but mostly it's done. Photographing this painting was a bit of a challenge today due to a lack of good light. It's a pretty decent shot, though I may try a reshoot once the sun comes out:

"Wild Roses" Oil on Linen, 20x16" ©Jennifer Young

This is another scene from one of those beautiful misty mornings in southern France that I've written of before.  Even though this was somewhat after the heavy fog had lifted, the moist air remained, and the diffused, cool light kept everything soft but saturated.

One thing I've been learning from my plein air paintings is that even the less successful pieces done on location have a certain freshness to them (if I don't allow myself to work them beyond the point that I should). There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that I am painting from life.

But I've also noticed that the brush size-to-canvas ratio is much larger due to the smaller plein air canvases. I don't use tiny brushes (unless I need to sign my name) so I'm really forced to simplify. And I must say, by the very nature of the way I have to approach the painting, I often end up saying more with less. 

I try to keep this in mind on  days when I'm working on larger paintings in the studio, and to make a more conscious effort to retain that same kind of freshness and looseness. It's a different matter than plein air painting, but it's been helpful for me to consciously reach for the largest possible brushes to do the task at hand, and to *try* to state things as economically as possible rather than overworking.

It's not an overstatement to say that sometimes my greatest motivations are my limitations. Andin the field, time is a built-in task-master due to the ever-changing light. But in my studio, unless my schedule is crammed full of other chores (as it is soon about to become!) there usually isn't that same kind of urgency. Without that, it can really be tempting to noodle around endlessly.

In my studio work, along with relying a lot more on memory, my challenge is to supply my own urgency, and to work more quickly and loosely. All this and still have command of the paint. There's the rub. After all, loose and quick is pretty pointless if the drawing or composition is weak or if the values aren't right.

It's a lot to consider if you think about it, but it is a fun challenge for me, and hopefully in time I can continue to work even more effectively in this manner on larger canvases still.

Wet panel carriers, plus more on pochade boxes

I have a new painting to share, but the rain we're getting is making it hard for me to get good light for a photo. Hopefully I'll get something to show a little later today. Meanwhile, those readers who are "gear-heads" like me might enjoy some light reading on plein air gear: Wet Panel Carriers:

Ever wonder how to carry those wet paintings around after a day of plein air painting? Never fear, that's why wet panel carriers were invented. :-)  There are a number of commercially available boxes designed with interior slots to hold a few wet panels at a time. Raymar is well knownamong plein air painters for their lightweight and moderately priced wet panel carrier made out of corrugated plastic.

But with very little time, ingenuity, and even less cash, it's easy to make your own, even if you aren't into gagetry or woodworking. The folks on the WetCanvas plein air forum have discussed this topic endlessly. Here are a few of the solutions I've bookmarked:

1. Marc Hanson's wet panel carrier, cheap and fast.
2. Cost Cutter Ideas from Larry Seiler and others- includes wet panel carriers and other home made solutions for some of your plein air painting gadgetry.
3. And lastly, here's Wayne Gaudon's solution, and the one I've tried myself (with a few modifications.) Easy!  It uses el-cheapo Walmart picture frames and a few very simple tools. I pretty much ditched the tools and came up with the lazy woman's version. As soon as I photograph it I'll write about my own experience with this version of the home made panel carrier.

Pochade boxes

Don't worry, you'll not get another thousand-word dissertation from me on plein air easels (but if you missed it the first time, you can read my thoughts here, here here and here).

This time, Charlie Parker has taken good care of this task on his most interesting art blog Lines and Colors. If you're in the market for a pochade box and feel overwhelmed by the choices, this post will go a long way towards helping you along in your decision. I was happy to see that he wrote abouta new pochade box I've been lusting after myself- made by Alla Prima Pochade.

I first saw one of these boxes (the Bitterroot Lite)  demo'ed in France by fellow artist-traveler Joyce Gabriel, and I was impressed with the many thoughtful and unique features, and how all of it folded up into one neat little package to fit inside her everyday backpack.

P.S. If you have extra reading time, check out the rest of Charlie's site for lots of great art coverage, including his latest post on a painter I've long admired, Richard Schmid.  This is a timely post for me personally, as this summer I've been re-reading Schmid's wonderful book, "Alla Prima" (also available in a more  affordable paperback) and doing the color charts he recommends (incredibly enlightening!)  You also might enjoy Joyce's posts and pics on her trip to France . I met Joyce at Le Vieux Couvent where I'll be teaching my own workshop next spring.

Market Day in the Lot Valley

Since I'll soon be leaving my nice big studio space, I'm trying to fit in more time to enjoy it while I can. So yesterday I stayed out of the heat and finished up the French landscape painting I'd been working on of the Lot Valley:

"Market Day in the Lot Valley" Oil on linen, 24x36" ©Jennifer Young

I found the light in this region was incredibly beautiful but very changeable as well. Large cloud formations could cover the sky and cast huge shadows one minute, only to break up and allow a flood of warm sunlight. It could be raining as you drove through the valley and then be blazing sunshine just over the hill. In this scene I tried to capture that transition.

Since this is a larger painting, some of the details have gotten a little lost in the photo of the whole piece. So I took a closeup to show the people walking to market, not only in the foreground, but also those crossing the distant bridges as well:

Lot Valley, France painting (WIP)

Lest you think all I'm doing is sitting around daydreaming about a new art studio, I thought I'd share a snapshot of a painting I'm working on from my last trip to the French countryside:

After working so often on small pieces lately, it feels good to be getting into something larger. This one's24x36".

Goodbye downtown Richmond- a gallery closing and other distractions

An artist's blog is a lot more challenging without being able to upload images, but I'll give it my best shot until my studio computer gets de-virused (fingers crossed). As it is, I haven't been painting much this past week as I've been all consumed with house guests, plus other changes and distractions (the good, the bad and the ugly).

The Good

Since I've become (mostly) an optimist in my old age, I'll start with the good stuff. I've written before about plans to return to southern France to teach a workshop next year. The details are getting solidified now and I've put the info up on my website to get this ball rolling. This is very exciting for me as it is such a magical place and I can't wait to share this experience with fellow artist-travelers. I've also got some other local workshops firmed up on my site too. 

The Bad

Well, aside from the computer virus, there really isn't any "bad" stuff;  but who looks forward to packing and moving?  Yes, the otherbig news is that as of October 31st I will be closing the downtown gallery space andmoving to a private/by appointment studio (still in Richmond).  And while at first glance it seems like a "bad" thing, it will actually be a very good thing for me personally (once the dust settles.)

Some would say that two years is not nearly long enough to judge a gallery's (or any new business') success or failure. I'd heartily agree. But it IS long enough for me to know if it's supporting what's most important to me. My passions in the art arena continue to be painting (in the studio and more and more en plen air),  as well as traveling,  and writing, teaching and learning, learning, learning. None of which really require a retail shop, and some of which actually conflict with having one. 

Really, this gallery venture has served me well, as it has helped me to realize that what I wanted is pretty much what I'd already had all along (Doh! ) It's also enabled me to get out there and meet with some great people and new collectors, but hopefully this will continue even without my own gallery.

The Ugly

So nothing ugly's gone down..... yet. But I am trying to prepare myself just a teensy bit for that possibility until the dust settles. What we're wanting/hoping for is to build a home studio on our property. For all intents and purposes (and for resale purposes) this will be a garage, but I hope to fix it up to create a little cottage garden studio. Any way, this is my hope, and I will share my experiences here once we get futher along. (Boy, that last paragraph sure is full of hope!)

The wild card is that there is no telling how long this will take. We've gone through many floor plans and design plans already and we're close, but we're not there yet. If we have serious delays or if it doesn't fly for whatever reason, then we'll have to move on to plans B & C, which I won't entertain here on the blog at this point. Let's just say there are boxes involved. Lots and lots of boxes.