Pandemic "Paint Out"

Back during the darkest days of the covid pandemic, one of the art organizations offered members an opportunity to participate in a virtual "paint out." This was during the time when many were working from home, most large gatherings were cancelled, and everyone was masking and keeping their distance. Clearly, get-togethers like plein air events and conventions were not happening, people were isolated and fearful, and probably nobody much was making art. 

The virtual event required online registration, after which you received links to reference photos. The participants each chose a reference, painted a small landscape from it, and submitted, again online. 

"Inlet," oil on panel, 8x10

This small painting is a view of wetlands in the southwest United States. While it was fun to do and was a bit of salve for the wounds of the pandemic, a virtual paint out is no substitute for being out there.

Depth

One of the most enviable skills in landscape is showing depth. That is, when a painter finds a way to show the viewers a vast landscape, it's generally awe-inspiring.  As an example the great Russian, Isaac Levitan (1860-1900) was a master at capturing depth. In "Vladimirka Highway" he shows us a vista similar to those we commonly see out here in the midwest--rolling prairieland with a human figure dwarfed by the sky and the land.

Isaac Levitan, "Vladimirka Highway," oil, 1892

My newest studio landscape, "Savanna," was driven in part to attempt just such a distant vista. Here in Iowa we have many areas of flat countryside, much of it created by mile-high glaciers in the last ice ages. "Savanna" was inspired by those, in particular by oak savanna in the Whiterock Conservancy. Here the distant tall grasses and oaks help show depth.

"Savanna," oil on canvas, 24x30

Experimentation and Art

Seems to me that one of the great things about making paintings or drawings or whatever is the chance to try out new ideas, materials, thoughts, viewpoints and so on. Without a sense of experimentation one doubts that one two and three-point perspective drawing wouldn't have developed. Nor would realistic figure paintings, nor Impressionism, nor Cubism, nor any number of -isms we've seen in the last century or so. 

For me, experimentation can be a way to try new paint colors, or new supports (canvas, etc), a new way of working or a way to break out of a rut. Only a few days ago I posted a painting of Donner Lake but although I mentioned it was done on a kind of paper I didn't say that it was actually an experiment with that kind of material (Strathmore Heavyweight Mixed Media paper). Most oil paintings are done on wood or fabric and few have been on paper, so I was interested in using it. Turns out this material is so absorbent that the oil from the paint sinks right in, which means more layers. Not long before I posted about the Donner Lake painting I posted about imagination and art. Making an imaginary landscape was an experiment then, too. 

"Jug," casein, 8x6 on panel, private collection

"Jug," a very small still life study from a few years ago is a good example of experimentation in my art practice. Casein is a very old painting medium that uses milk solids and is rarely employed these days. I did this as an experiment with a new kind of paint, but with no other motive. The bottle is about half full of blonde shellac and is sitting on my round glass palette as light spills in from the window. The work turned out well enough to be offered at the Salmagundi Club's Thumbbox Show that year, where it was sold. Although I don't do a lot of work using casein, it was a useful exercise.

Experimenting is the life blood of progress, seems to me.

 

Longing for Green

Every day something new promises that spring is on the way. Just today I saw that daffodils have pushed an inch or two of their green spears above the otherwise barren soil. 

As has happened more than once, I discovered this watercolor in an old collection of files. It's fun to see works you've lost track of or forgotten. This is a panorama of a farm in southwestern Virginia, from a few years ago.

Here Comes the Sun

Every year, as March brings new warmth and sunshine, the old song from the 60's runs through my mind. The thing is, winters here are cold and dark but that's no problem, really. We're used to the conditions of the nether season. The problem is how long it lasts. Friends in other parts of the country are already seeing daffodils but here the ground is frozen and the sky is grey. Nevertheless, the inevitable turn of the seasons is in progress. 

Here's a tiny watercolor from five years back, celebrating the springtime. 

"Spring, the Bridge," wc and ink

Donner Lake

The high Sierra Nevada in California and western Nevada have been in the news these past few days. This year, for example, more than 52 feet of snow has been reported at the University of California, Berkeley lab at the top of Donner Pass. The reported totals are now said to be more then 250% of yearly average snow accumulations, and more snow is coming. 

Not quite a month ago, we transited Donner Pass and passed through Truckee, a few miles east of Donner Lake. As it happens one of my many snapshots caught the mountains and Donner Lake, but clearly with much less snow than has fallen in the past ten or twelve days. Here's an 11x14 oil on media board, "Above Donner Lake," showing the area before the big blizzard.

Imagination and Creation

There is a point for many artists when the hours and days they've spent studying repay the effort. By studying I mean the kind of visual engagement a painter or sculptor makes with the physical world. Artists build a visual library of everything from angular geologic forms in landscape to nuances of human bodies through considered seeing--in enough detail to allow them to invent believable shapes of people, buildings, streets, and so on without references. That is, many artists can invent a figure or a room or a landscape, even if only for a study drawing. Some still use models, once they've established a useful composition A century ago, during the golden years of illustration, someone like Albert Dorne could and did produce beautifully rendered illustrations for countless magazines and ads, many without use of models or photos.

For me, it's an interesting practice to attempt a painting from my imagination. Last week, having finished a large landscape and casting about for something new to paint, I picked up an old 11x14 panel with a failed portrait painted on it and without much thought began a landscape based on my memory of the painting just completed. That is, a memory copy of my most recent work. 

"Stormy Savanna," oil on panel, 11x14

The resultant work is necessarily considerably simplified in comparison to it's much larger predecessor. And because the failed portrait was in darker values (it never progressed to higher ones) the entire overpainted landscape is necessarily darker. The stormy dark blue sky was the remedy for the warm darks of the portrait, and the darkest greens likewise. The work proceeded in layers, each taking a couple of hours on several successive days. The trick was to imply a brighter light source slanting into the scene from the top left, yet keep the grasses and trees in mid- to darker values. 

Making images from memory is a worthwhile way to flex my visual muscles, seems to me.

Saturday Sketches

As the weather warms and the light shifts it has been possible to head outdoors with the Saturday group several times since the beginning of the year. Last Saturday we met as usual and went to Waterworks Park. I spent a bit more than an hour sketching from the open door of my car. The sun was warm but the breeze was sharp and uncomfortable. Happily, the sun emerged and lighted the scene. 

"The Bank of the Raccoon," wc and ink on paper

The first sketch I did was of the northern bank of the Raccoon River where it bends and almost touches the road. This time of year what color there is hasn't much punch. Instead the landscape is nuances of greys and ochres. This particular painting is about 8x10 but because the colors are muted and very close in values it took less time than usual. I pulled out a small pocket sketchbook and did a second much smaller study of a dead white tree a bit farther downstream. The bark had fallen away and the white of the heartwood stood out starkly against the darks of the woods.

"Dead Tree Study," wc and ink on paper

 

New Blue

Until a couple of years ago, a relatively new pigment known as YInMn blue, that was discovered only in 2009 or so, was an expensive curiosity. It was discovered as a byproduct of research into compounds for application in electronics. Comprising yttrium, indium and manganese, the resulting material is an intense and color-fast blue, very nearly like cobalt blue. Because of expense in production only a limited supply of the pigment is available although it has been mulled in oil and acrylic vehicles. Some companies have produced limited editions but many of those are currently out of stock.

Because of an interest in pigments I purchased a small tube of acrylic YInMn blue a year or two ago. As expected, it resembles cobalt blue both in mass color and when mixed. The difference between the two is quite small and suggests to me that this newer blue will always remain a curiosity.