In the Field

Ninety-six in the Shade

I remembered a painting by Alma-Tadema the other day, which title accords very well with what I've tried to do with this oil sketch from last weekend. The canvas, 16x20, was begun as a demonstration for the monthly Saturday Plein Air Class.

The temperature and the humidity were ferocious, and Alma-Tadema's title "94 degrees in the Shade" (Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge), exactly expressed the spirit of this spot, almost incandescent with the heat.

In the initial phase, done on site, I just tried to get some of the larger forms in place. I find that an hour of demonstration, and then a subsequent half-hour, don't get me quite as far as I'd like on a 16x20" canvas. The good part is that a painting of this size is much easier to see and to follow for a group of eight to ten students.

For a larger group, such as the Vermont Workshop in June, I demonstrated on a 20x25 canvas. Here's the lay-in, with some color, at the end of Saturday's class.

I hadn't quite figured out how large I wanted the tree to be. In fact it was quite massive. But I was most concerned with two aspects. First, I wanted the painting to be later in the afternoon, really glowing. Second, I promised the students I'd work on the tree's foliage. I'd said that I wanted to have some leaves almost entering the viewer's space, and separated from the dark underside of the leaves on the far side of the tree. I wanted to suggest a deep upward space between the two groups of leaves. And, in a moment of weakness, I promised to show the result.

Ninety-six in the Shade, 2012

Not entirely sure what I'll do next to this painting. There's a lot of refinement needed."theRevenant", a follower of the blog, will no doubt insist I finish this one, too. We'll see.

But it may be too hot to handle. It certainly makes me want some ice water.

Landscape 911

Black & White

I've worked on Tuesday's painting, both yesterday and today. Last night I was going to post yesterday's results, but I couldn't get the photos I'd taken to even approximate what had taken place.

Tonight, I've had no more luck with the photos from this afternoon. So I give it to you in its current state, but in black and white. Pretend it's one of those art books that you order online. When it arrives, you realize that it's mostly not in color. At least this one didn't cost you anything.

As for the color, I'll post one if I ever get a good photo. But who knows if I'll finish the painting?  

Tomorrow we are painting outside with the Friday Plein Air class. We'll be at Appleton Farms, in Ipswich, Massachusetts. Those not from here can see the locale, and read about it, here.

Landscape 911

Catching My Imagination

Unlike some folks, I often paint out of my head, deep in the comfort of my studio. Since I'll be teaching a class on Friday, en plein air, today I was able to hide out inside.

Thinking about what I'd paint, I looked through some starts, hoping to have one catch my imagination, just begging to be finished. I found a 24x30 that was a studio beginning, probably made last autumn. It was begun from my head, and after I'd established the sense of a place---water's edge, a group of plausible waterside buildings, something far out along the horizon, and a close up lane---I stopped. I don't now remember why I didn't carry on at the time, but something must have intervened. Here's the state I found it in today:

The canvas has a tint made from a very thin application of Blockx Capucine Yellow Light. Despite the name, it's a pinkish tint, which is strange since I'm sure it was named for the habits of Capuchin monks, which are certainly not yellow, more of a rusty brown. Go figure.

Anyway, I'd apparently done an under-drawing mostly in burnt umber, with a bit of ultramarine. I then seemed to have added some ultramarine in the water, still very thin, and a bit of Prussian green, again transparently, on the edge of the road and also near the buildings. To my way of thinking it was definitely now a place, but I didn't really have any idea what I wanted the painting to be about. My students hear me continually running on, always saying, "I see what it's a picture of, but what's it a picture about? How do you want me, the viewer, to engage with this place?" Now, of course, I was asking the question of myself. I needed to do something that would trigger my interest, something that would lead me to an idea that would catch my imagination. If I could do that, perhaps I might make a painting which would catch the imagination of others, too.

I knew that I couldn't manage this by simple, tentative, mark-making. Something bold needed to happen. It was time for a cheap brush and some Liquin, some ultramarine and some burnt umber.

I often find that a bit of wholesale brush-swinging can make me find a raison-d'etre where none seemed to be before. In this case, I dragged the dark color across the top of the picture, then brushed a lighter version of it across the lower portion of the sky. A darker value filled in the water and darkened the building and the near shore.

The result of all that value-changing was the left-over portion of the sky, in the middle, that became a definite bank of lighter clouds, tremulous against a somber sky. At this stage, I considered that I might make it stormy in the far distance, while having the road in sunshine (this is something I may still do---I'm keeping my options open!)

For now, though, I further darkened the road and its verges, added some more Prussian green to the roadside and to the land near the buildings. I darkened the buildings some, and wiped away a bit of the new sky, along the horizon, exposing a bit of the pink of the canvas. A dawn sky?

Your guess is definitely as good as mine about where this painting is headed, but I can begin to feel some poetry, some mystery----a hint that will encourage me to continue, with the hope of ultimately engaging you, too. 

If you want, I'll keep you posted on where this painting goes. Just let me know in the comments.

Cheers,

Donald

Landscape 911

Last Meeting of the DPS...

The Dead Paintings Society is going on vacation until the autumn. We had our seventh, and final meeting of the spring/summer this past Friday, 29 June 2012.


The painting that was submitted for triage was 20x24. It suffered from a bit of a split personality. The sky seemed a bit sleety, yet it was clearly summer. The light on the trees suggested the sun lighting the picture from the right side. The far distantce, however, was yellow along the horizon. Go figure.

Both the darks and the lights suffered from a certain chalkiness. In the case of the darks, some opaque color has found its way into the mixtures, robbing them of their transparency and luminosity. In the the light areas, such as the meadow, there was a lack of vitality and richness.

Mostly I wanted to add some oomph to the colors, and to find away to invite the viewer into the painting. I didn't have quite enough time to do all I might have wanted. As it was, the class ran rather past its normal time. Today I changed it a bit. It's far from finished, but I think I've spent all the time I can on it. The photo doesn't show that there's a sliver of beach that arcs out into the water.

Below are two pairs of paintings from the 22 June 2012 DPS meeting, ones I failed to get posted at the time.

In this painting, I mostly wanted to get the water, and the peninsula, to lie down flat. I also wanted to increase the color range a bit. Not being happy with the house, nor with the chairs, they somehow disappeared.

Here's one where the artist wanted to stress the purple haze on a silvery day. But then she decided that a blue sky might be better. In fact, the blue sky robs the purple of most of its power. I decided to go with a high horizon, and to put the purple or a slope, running down to a pond.

Keep at it, and resuscitate some of your dead paintings. Be bold when you do it. There's nothing to lose, and a great deal to possibly gain.

Workshops, Classes, Museums, Critiques

Upcoming Workshops and Classes
2012-2013

Ilya Repin, At The Academy Dacha, 1898

When I first began, there were few opportunities to study landscape painting. As a consequence, I feel strongly about sharing what I've learned so far. 

On the workshop blog, www.donaldjurneyworkshop.blogspot.com, there are some class possibilities that may work out for you. 

If you have yet another suggestion, perhaps a three-day fresco painting workshop on the moon(?), send it along. You never know. 

Paint well!

Donald

Plein Air in the Studio

The First-ever Sighting of Johanssen!

What to my wondering eyes should appear---this morning---but Johanssen himself, together with his wee Scottie (who is presumably named Jock).

In all the years that I've had sightings of Johanssen's buildings, and faithfully recorded them in my paintings, I'd never actually seen him before.

But, despite this morning's sighting, I still can't say I've met him. Before I was able to walk around the pond to get to where I'd seen him standing, Jock gave a bark and they were off! 

Consequently, I haven't been able to ask him what those things in the center of the canvas are. Or were, more appropriately, as this morning there was only one left. It certainly seemed it could be a small, stone, watering trough for cattle. Not much mystery there. A number of people wrote to me about their guesses. Among them were several hay wagons, a jack-knifed semi, and the Y from the HOLLYWOOD sign in Los Angeles.


Today was about strengthening the values, introducing some color, and about endeavoring to effectively conjure a definite place. Johanssen himself needs real work...he was present for such a short time that it was difficult to capture him. He certainly appears to be younger than I would have thought.


Here are the three stages so far:

If he shows up again, tomorrow, I've got a lot of questions for him.

Plein Air in the Studio

Nous cherchons toujours Johanssen

Yesterday saw the initial lay-in, below, of this 24x30" canvas. When I stopped, I was hoping for a sighting of Mr. Johanssen, who might explain the unexplained objects in the landscape.

Thus far, no one's seen him.

Today, even without the input from Monsieur J, I've gone ahead and begun to strengthen the drawing my adding transparent color. At this stage, I only want transparency, and so I only use color that is either transparent or which acts transparently in thin applications.

In this particular case, the colors employed were Rembrandt Brownish-Madder, Winsor & Newton Prussian Green, Rembrandt Burnt Umber, Old Holland Ultramarine Blue, and Rembrandt Sap Green.

By using many transparent veils, I can begin to build up masses that are made of many nuanced passages. I find this to be a way of both drawing, and massing, simultaneously. Although the color choices which I make have some relationship to the ultimate color of the various areas, I'm really more interested, at this stage, in refining the values that determine the composition.

At the moment it seems like a very moist, early morning in summer. Tomorrow some real color will come and, one hopes, Johanssen will come, too-----to explain what those shapes in the center of the painting are. They're certainly too big to be hay bales. 

Can't wait to find out.