Painting is a response (so move the $%#! tree).

I was talking to a non-painter about painting recently and she said, "The kind of art I like is imaginative. I don't care much for a copy of a photograph or a copy of a scene even in life. It's far more interesting to me to see a painting that came from the artist's head." Well, I couldn't agree more. But I hate to break it to her; all art comes from the "artist's head." The artist is painting in response to something, whether it be a concept or idea, a story, or an observation. Even in landscape painting (or any kind of painting even remotely related to realism) I think that true artistry occurs when the artist is not copying, but painting her response to a subject, and is fully able to communicate that response in a way that is original and distills the subject to its essence.

The reasons behind my choice of subjects vary. Sometimes it is the sheer beauty of a place that triggers an emotional response. Sometimes the scene evokes a memory. Sometimes it is the light. Sometimes I respond to something as simple as lines and planes. But it is all about my response or my interpretation.

Copying a scene so that it looks like a photo, or even looks like the view in front of me in the open air, is not nearly as important to me as expressing my response to the subject. As I heard artist Kenn Backhaus say once, "I'm not interested in making historical paintings." Backhaus paints en plein air, but he also uses many different combinations of his own photos at times to inform his studio paintings. He uses these resources in order to express his unique vision, frequently with masterful results.

I work in a similar manner (but still working on the mastery part.) ;-) Sometimes one scene says it all. Other times I may combine several different elements from varying photos and studies to relay the idea or feeling about a place or experience. Even in realism, the subject matter is the jumping off point. It is subordinate to the idea --just one vehicle for the greater goal of artistic expression.

Painting on location is important for the simple reason that there is more to respond to in life than in a photo. But even painting en plein air, artists can fall into the trap of subordinating their art for the sake of historical accuracy. I was out painting with a fellow artist once and we set up in different locations to paint the same scene. I took a break from my work and inquired about my friend's progress. "It's going okay," he said. "But I wish that tree was in a different place." "Then for heaven's sake," I said. "You're an artist! Move the $%#!  tree."

Painting successfully from photos offers its own set of challenges, because you are responding to a frozen moment in time. That is not how the eyes see and not how we respond in life. In addition to painting en plein air, I do work from photos. But they are my own photos, usually taken from travels where I have made a point to also do some painting or sketching (accompanied usually by long spans of sitting and sighing and blissfully observing) on location. So even working from my photos, it is always about my experience, except that I am also having to rely more on memory than from life in the moment.

As an artist I've worked using many different approaches. Sometimes it all does come "from my head", and at other times I use nature as my inspiration. There are times when I am so seduced by a scene that I find it perfect, and I try to capture it just as I see it. But even then, I try to keep in mind my ultimate goal to make a strong painting that communicates my unique response. I may not always find success, but it's something to move towards. And if a tree gets in my way, I have no qualms about moving the $%#! tree.

Plein air painting; St. Michaels Boat House

I'm back in the studio now and assessing the work I did last week on location in Easton Maryland. In some cases I will clean up these pieces up or make some other adjustments, but first I will just prop them up in my studio and study them for a while. This is a little 8x10" study I did at the Maritime Museum in St. Michaels. This was done in the morning, on the same day as the afternoon painting of the "Delaware" tugboat I mentioned in an earlier post.

Coastal painting of boats Maryland Eastern Shore

Plein air painting; Top 10 things I love

Here is a follow up to my previous top 10 list about painting on location. You will notice that some of the things that I cited as pains in the tuccus are also some of the very things I love. And there is a lot more to love than what I've written below! 

  1. The challenge of racing against time to capture the ever changing light. 
  2. Appreciating the beauty of the natural world firsthand.
  3. Being outside to witness the special quality of light that comes early in the morning (before breakfast) and just before sunset (around dinner time).
  4. Getting lost in the experience (this happens for me in the studio, but not as intensely as it does when I'm painting on location. I lose all track of time and am able to be in hyper-focus.)
  5. Those ah-ha paintings-- When everything about the painting experience gels and you've said everything you wanted to say with an economy of brushstroke and a real understanding of the light (makes all those other half-finished plein air studies worthwhile!)
  6. Connecting with so many kind and interesting people from all over the world.
  7. Using all of your senses to create--seeing so much more color and information in nature than it is ever possible to see in photographs.
  8. The challenge of editing out some of that color and information to make a cohesive and well composed painting.
  9. Painting along with other artists and seeing how differently they interpret the same scene.
  10. Those moments of quiet solitude, but not really feeling "alone" because you are a part of it all!

Plein air painting; View Across the Harbor, Oxford, Maryland

I don't normally paint views of such great distance, but this was a lively little harbor scene and so representative of the little town of Oxford on Maryland's Eastern Shore; charming, quaint, small and picturesque. This was painted mid morning (started around 9:30) on location. I found one tree to shade me, while I used my umbrella to shade my painting and my palette. Of course I still managed to get sunburn!  This painting is 9x12" and is oil on canvas.

coastal landscape painting harbor view

Here I am using the same limited palette of 6 colors plus white that I have used all week, which is incidentally the same palette that the talented plein air painter and instructor Kenn Backhaus recommends. How he manages to get such seductive color with so few pigments still eludes me, but I am determined to figure it out!

Plein air painting; Top 10 things that are a pain in the tuccus

Since I've been doing quite a bit of painting on location this summer, I thought I'd share some of my thoughts about the experience of plein air painting. I'll deal with the less desirable aspects first, and then follow up with what I love: 

  1. Bugs of all kinds (ticks, mosquitoes, bees, etc.). I'm not the world's bravest outdoorsy type and I hate the creepy crawlies.
  2. Sunburn! There is no way to avoid the sun. Be prepared and deal with it.
  3. Being covered in goo (otherwise known as bug spray and sunscreen) due to list items 1 and 2.
  4. Finding a location with lots of lovely shady spots, but the amazing scene that you are passionately in love with is only visible when standing in the blazing sun.
  5. Forgetting to pack one essential thing (and I ALWAYS seem to forget to pack one essential thing!)
  6. Having to lug around a bunch of heavy art supplies and equipment (no matter how much I try to pare down, it is still too much stuff!)
  7. Getting out before breakfast time and staying out beyond dinner time because that's when the best light is. (Okay, my days revolve around my meals. Note; those are TWO meals I'm missing! )
  8. Getting in the groove while the light is excellent, only to encounter a passer-by who feels like a nice, long chat.
  9. Enduring the elements (sun, wind, rain, heat, cold, ever-changing light, etc.), all the while hoping to create something brilliant.
  10.  Spending 2 to 3 hours painting and ending up with something that's nowhere near "brilliant"!

Lest you are thinking, "Stop your complaining. If you don't like it, stay inside!", stay tuned for the top 10 things to love about plein air painting and see why I put up with it and am becoming more and more obsessed with it. You may be surprised to find some overlap ;-)