Lennox Woods- Work in Progress

This is a painting I have had on the easel since early this year. It is the first of the larger works I am completing for my Lennox Woods solo show in 2014. At 48 x 64 it is the smallest of the six or seven large paintings I have planned to anchor the 50 piece exhibition. I completed the underpainting on this one early in the spring, but other things kept me from making any more progress on it until recently.

All of these images can be clicked for a larger view.

This is one of the value studies I did when working out the idea of the piece. This is graphite. At this point I am working out the design in the proportion I plan to use for the large canvas.

After deciding on a design, I did a monochromatic study in oil (again using the same proportion, 3:4)  Not a great image, a little glare. 18 x 24
Here is a grid on tracing paper. I laid the tracing paper over the oil study and drew a simple grid. This gave me some measuring points for placing the horizon and main forms on the larger canvas. I didn't draw a grid on the larger canvas because I really didn't need it but also because parts of my canvas will remain transparent in the final piece and I didn't want the grid to show. So, I just used the distances indicated by the grid (each 3" square would translate to a 8" square on the larger canvas) eyeballed it and measured using the proportions from the smaller study.

Here are the grid and the study on the easel next to the larger canvas.
Here is one days work on the larger canvas. 48 x 64. I lightly indicated where the horizon line was, the main tree shapes. Then I started using a wipe out method in the background using transparent paint (Vasari Shale) which was applied with a rag. The trunks will eventually be darker but at this stage I just wanted to get the placement organized. I started on the dry brush in the foreground before I stopped for the day. The toned triangular area in the foreground will eventually be covered with some opaque paint, then glazed (suggestions of leaf litter and forest floor clutter).
Unfortunately, I forgot to photograph the progress on the underpainting, but here it is completed. At this point I was beginning to change the direction of the light. Initially I had planned to have the light coming from the left and illuminating the main tree trunk. While I was working on the underpainting, I decided to change that plan and create a softer backlit scene. I also decided I wanted to open up the woods a bit more, creating more distance between the trees in the foreground and the trees in the distance. The underpainting is really the last opportunity to make those sorts of changes so I take my time and try to pay attention rather than just slavishly following my studies. 

Here is the piece after I have put a first layer of paint on the tree trunks in the foreground, a couple of layers of paint on the foreground, and also put in a first layer of paint in the sky and carved out some negative spaces in the distant trees

A detail of the near trees on the left side. These are American Hornbeams which abound in Lennox Woods. They have a distinctive fluted sort of trunk and are part of the understory trees throughout the Woods. This is just a first layer of paint. Many more to come.

Here is a detail of the sky and distant trees.

A detail of the main tree trunk, a white oak, in the foreground. Again, just the first layer of paint.

This is the foreground area depicting the forest duff- which is sometimes several feet deep in Lennox Woods!

I hope to have this piece finished by year end. Stay tuned!

Grudge Match

Summer Song

25 x 21

Some paintings just seem to fall off your brush effortlessly. From the first whisper of an idea to the last little tweak, they proceed as if the conclusion is forgone and inevitable, gracefully coming to fruition just as you imagined in your mind's eye. This was not one of those paintings.

This painting came kicking and screaming every step of the way. It started as the demo piece for my workshop in Taos. After bringing it back, I decided I didn't like the composition or the color harmony. I chopped it- from a 30 x 24 to its current size. Now, this is something I never do. But, it needed it, so I took a saw to it. I glazed it, reglazed, it got too dark, I scumbled it, and glazed it again.

More glazes, and then some glaze impasto. Too warm, I glazed it with a cool transparent blue on the left side. The top foliage wasn't right. I painted it out and scraped it back a half dozen times. Some velatura passages in the foliage. Glazes on top of that. I gave up on it. I came back to it. I hated it. Then I liked. Later the same day I hated it again.

Finally, there were little glimmers of hope. I kept at it, finally getting down to a few small adjustments. And then it was done, or I called it so. I've made my peace with it. But, I still hold a grudge.

All images can be clicked for a larger view.

Morning Light

Morning Light

24 x 30

As readers of this blog know, I am drawn to transitional times of day as the subject of my landscape paintings. For the most part, the evening hours have been my favorite subject. I love those brief moments when the day surrenders to the night. Although I walk at all times of the day, evening walks have always been my favorite. For the last four months though, I've been walking around dawn each day. I have to say, this time has inspired a new appreciation for the morning twilight hour.

This painting is based on a field about a mile from our property. The foreground shadow is mysteriously transparent, something which doesn't really show very well in the photograph. I've included a couple of details. You can get a larger view by clicking on them.

I used many many glazes on the foreground, creating suggestions of form within the shadows by subtle shifts in value and temperature. The road was laid in with thin opaque paint and then glazed over with the foreground glazes to bring it together and keep the value relationships correct. The lightstruck areas were created with thicker, lighter opaque paint.




The trees were laid in with several layers of transparent paint, then form was created with passages of velaturas and glaze impasto passages. Dry paint was dragged over some areas, and in some places the underpainting was left undisturbed.



The sky was painted with several layers of opaque paint and scumbled heavily in some areas. Scumbles were pulled over the trees in the distance to create atmosphere and the illusion of distance.

My New Best Friends

Every once in awhile, it's good to ask yourself why you do what you do. Here is an example. The other day I started thinking about why I use brights. When I first started painting again about 20 (!) years ago I used filberts because the artist I was studying with did. Eventually I switched to brights- tried flats briefly but they were too floppy for me, and I liked the square touch I got with a bright. Of course, I was painting in a direct, alla prima way at that time.

Fast forward to five or six years ago when I began exploring indirect techniques. My brush obsessions became about finding out what worked best for glazing (sable watercolor wash brushes) and for the drybrush transparent underpaintings I do (beat up versions of the aforementioned brushes).

Bristle brushes, at least the brights I was using, did not work well for the translucent and opaque passages that I layered on top of glaze layers and the scumbles I used in my skies and for forms in the distance. So, I used the sables and more recently some mongoose brushes made by Rosemary. But still, they were brights.

One of the challenges of the technique I use is to "marry" the transparent passages with those other ones- translucent, opaque, scumbles, drybush, etc. A heavy handed application will look out of place- like it should be on someone else's painting. And, worst, of all, it will destroy the atmosphere and mystery I work so hard to achieve. So I tended to keep those passages thin, which also tended to level the paint quite a bit. I use Liquin as a medium and it is a wonder for glazing- increases transparency and flow and in doing so-levels the paint. Even used sparingly, it still tends to bulldoze a brushstroke.

So, for no particular reason except I have been rattling these issues around in my head now for years, the other day I pulled out a couple of well worn rounds which belong to my husband and a tube of Galkyd Gel which I experimented with in direct painting about 10 years ago. And this is what happened. (click for a closer look).



And this.



And this.




The Galkyd Gel tube says it increases transparency and creates impasto. I thought upon reading that- "yea, right". Well, it does! Somehow, it combines high viscosity (no flow) with transparency to create a glaze impasto! Which means those particles of opaque-ish paint are suspended in a glaze like stroke- so it looks like it belongs with the rest of my painting. And the rounds were stiff enough to create a brushstroke, but gave me a freer, less angular paint application that suits my work perfectly.

I tell my students that it is important to make time for R&D (research and development) to explore new ideas and techniques. I guess I need to take my own advice.

Finding A Balance

In the Pines
24 x 20
detail

I like to think that mystery plays a big part in my work- like a character in a novel. Not surprisingly, my painting process reflects this. The layers of glazes and scumbles obscure some the initial information in the underpainting and create areas of visual uncertainty. But I have also found that I crave some beauty in the surface itself- areas of deep dark mystery surrounded by suggestive passages of paint. Enough form to satisfy our lizard brain's powers of recognition but not enough to destroy the playground of imagination. It is a difficult balance, and I am always veering off one side of the road or the other.

I have had a wonderful response to the announcement of the Little Everglades Ranch Florida workshop next spring, with many taking advantage of the Early Bird Special for those who register this month! Also, just in time for summer, the online course The Painted Sky returns next month. Details here.

Telluride Plein Air Day 2

Aspen Trio
Triptych- each panel 8 x 6
Sold

OK, so first-I am sorry about the quality of images I'll be posting this week. Trying to do this on the go doesn't always yield great results. Here's my fist effort- a trio of aspen paintings at afternoon, evening and night.

Last night's artist orientation was thankfully a bit shorter than previous years. It was great to see everyone returning and also to meet the new artists who are here for the first time. For a list of the participating artists and more info about the event click here.

Although everyone has told us about how much rain and cool weather Telluride has had this summer, today was sunny and warm. I've got the aspen triptych finished and most everything else in various stages- from underpaintings to first glazes. I'm using a bit more opaque paint than I usually do just so I can get the work done in time. This year we have one less day to paint (only three full days plus two partial days) so there is more pressure than ever.

Time to head out for evening light......

Old School-New School

December Dusk
8 x8
Available at Deborah Paris Fine Art

As regular readers know, about 18 months ago, I began to explore new techniques in search of a way to better describe not only the atmospheric effects in the landscape that interested me, but also to create a certain mood and look to my work. That quest lead me to a study of glazing, scumbling and the use of transparent paint in general. Glazing is most definitely Old School- a technique which goes back to the Renaissance and which was almost completely lost over the last couple of centuries as more direct painting methods were deemed to be more desirable. Many still feel that way, but this centuries old technique is making a comeback in some circles. Modern, man made pigments have added a whole range of highly pigmented, rich colors to the transparent colors now available to the 21st century artist (very New School) .

My aim was and is to combine this very Old School technique with a modern (New School) landscape sensibility. Over the last few years, I experimented with a more stylized and even abstracted form of landscape painting to accomplish these goals. Although I am very drawn to a decorative approach (I mean that in a good way), in the end, I knew I wanted my landscapes to be places my viewers felt they could actually walk into. I wanted to make the viewer look, and having looked, desire to linger. For me, that meant that a more representational (for lack of a better word) mode combined with a modern, spare sense of design and use of limited but rich color was needed.

As I've written before, I describe this as "just enough, but not too much". I often miss that mark, usually erring on the side of "too much" but occasionally "not enough". I think it is a pursuit that will engage me for the rest of my life, and as I come to trust myself more- I hope I can get closer to what I want to accomplish.

Evening Pond

Work in Progress
Evening Pond
36 x 30

As I've written many times before, there is something very compelling about autumn to me. Visually, its a time that the landscape begins to strip itself bare, to uncover and expose the structure of things. The rhythm of life seems to slow, even to ebb. The sun which used to set directly behind my house, offering extravagant sunsets in summer, has migrated to the south and slips below the horizon, sending weak rays of light across the field behind my studio.

A Studio Visit

Work in Progress (sorry about the glare)
Sunset Stream 30 x 30

Still working on this piece. Monday I had two studio visitors, so everything came to a halt for a massive clean up of the studio and house. I had this piece on the easel -always makes me nervous for a collector to see work in progress but it gave me a good opportunity to talk with my guests about glazing and how it works. The fact that its a centuries old technique still used by artists today seemed to be genuinely interesting to them (although I can go on about this stuff until people's eyes glaze over ...). Anyway, it reminded me about the great article on the Gamblin web site which explains the science behind the stunning visual effects created by glazing. I think I may have linked to this before, but if you haven't read it and are interested in glazing, here it is.

And now for a commercial break.... some of you know that my husband and I own a small company (very small- just the two of us) called Mountains Edge Frames. Its how we pay the bills (or not) in addition to painting sales. I try not to muck up this blog with that, but like everybody else in the world, we are having a holiday sale, so click on over if you are interested. Also, we have added a new product to our line- birch painting panels- both uncradled and cradled, finished with gesso or not. Earlier this year, I blogged about the Magic Panel, and that quest turned into a new product for us. They are fantastic if I do say so myself. Now, back to regular programming.......

Giving Thanks

Work in Progress

Sunset Stream 30 x30

Here is one of the pieces I am working on now. The under painting was posted here. Now, the sky has been laid in and an initial color glazed over the foreground. Still many painting sessions to go on this one.

Yesterday I spent a good portion of the day writing and sending my holiday studio newsletter. After it went out I received a number of emails and a few phone calls from other artists and collectors. One conversation in particular reminded me of the power of art to connect perfect strangers and made me grateful for my role in that process. I had never spoken with this person-let's call him Bill- before, but he is a regular reader of my blog. He told me a bit about himself and his passion for collecting art. His tastes and his collection cover a wide range - he clearly just loves art.

Its easy in an economy such as this one to let the question "will this sell?", or worse, "what can I paint that will sell?", creep into the studio. Talking with Bill yesterday, I was reminded of this quote from The Writing Life by Annie Dillard:

...the more literary the book-the more purely verbal, crafted sentence by sentence, the more imaginative, reasoned,and deep-the more likely people are to read it. The people who read are the people who like literature, after all...I cannot imagine a sorrier pursuit than struggling for years to write a book that attempts to appeal to people who do not read in the first place.

And so it is with painting. The more passion for your craft and your subject you put into your work, the more likely it is that people like Bill- people who love art- will find your work. Nothing you do can make someone who does not care about art -or about your kind of art, care about your work. But the people who do, are the ones with whom you have a bond, a shared passion and to whom you owe thanks and the responsibility to make the best work you are capable of. So, thank you Bill.

The Season Turns

Right before sunset yesterday a front came through. I woke during the night to the sound of rain. This morning it was a bit cooler, but still mild. But, I could feel that the season of bright autumn days was giving way to something else. Bare trees now mix in with the rusts and ochres and trees in the distance look more violet. The grass has stopped growing and everything looks more spare, stripped down. Out on the road, windswept with leaves, it felt a bit desolate, like every living thing was turning inward, preparing for the rigors of winter.

I stayed in the studio most of the day and worked on several larger pieces. This is the latest on the 48 x 60. I've worked on the trees a bit more, repainted the sky and glazed over the edges of the trees again. I've had to wait several days between each session, not only to let the glazes dry, but also to "oil out" in between. Oiling out is an old term, used in the 19th century, to describe the process for bringing the colors and values back to their original state. When oil paint dries , the darks will dry a bit lighter and the lights a bit darker. So before you start again, its necessary to use a bit of medium over the surface to regain the saturation, color and value. There are still several more painting sessions to be done to complete this.


I've also been working on two other under paintings. I finished this 30 x 30 yesterday and a 36 x 30 today. It was a good day in the studio.

Imagination & Execution

This past week I reread the book Art & Fear. I was first introduced to this wise little tome over ten years ago. Its one of those books that you can reread again and again, finding new and deeper insights each time. This time was no exception. The passages that seemed particularly apt had to do with what the authors call the "correspondence between imagination and execution"- that is, the place where your work actually gets made. The idea is that at the beginning the work can be whatever you can imagine but as it progresses- as you actually begin to make it- the possibilities narrow with each successive brushstroke, until at the end only a very narrow range of choices remain to complete the work. It is then its own thing, separate and apart from the world and what inspired it. In other words, as Annie Dillard (paraphrasing Paul Klee) wrote:

The painter...does not fit the paints to the world. He most certainly does not fit the world to himself. He fits himself to the paint. The self is the servant who bears the paintbox and its inherited contents.
I have read those words a dozen times over many years and have only just begun to understand what they mean. I had this ridiculous notion that I was in control!

This past week I've been working on the large painting-the underpainting is posted here. This first image is one glaze over the foreground and trees and the sky laid in with opaque paint.

Once the sky was laid in, I began to adjust the values and color temperature. It gets tricky here because you have to remember that each successive glaze will darken that portion of the panting. In this next image, I've put several more glaze layers on the foreground and the distant trees, repainted a portion of the sky, and adjusted the distant tree shapes and color harmony throughout.


So far, I've done very little to the large trees in the foreground and nothing to the small piece of water in the very front. And the sky will need repainting again. There are zillions of little adjustments to edges and shapes and color needed everywhere now-each needing to be fitted to what came before-to the paint.

Finishing the Start

Evening 48 x 60-under painting

Its amazing the amount of things you can get done while you are trying to avoid tackling a big canvas-things like laundry, cleaning up the garage and even your taxes (yes, we procrastinate around here). But eventually you have to face the music, or in this case- the linen. The one thing I have learned is that no matter what I intend the work to be, no matter how many studies I do, the canvas will, at some point very early on, become its own very different thing. When I painted in a more direct manner I would sometimes try to force it back into its cage, so to speak. But now, I cannot so easily cover my tracks. The under painting tells all and whatever happens by the time I have finished the start will be part of the finished work.

Cool Water

Cool Water
oil on birch panel, 8x6

When I was a little girl I was, like many little girls, horse crazy. I started riding when I was about six and within a year had convinced my parents I had to have my own horse. During the school year, I rode in the afternoon and on weekends and in the summer I spent a good deal of my time on horseback exploring the fields, pastures and woods in north Florida where I grew up. There was a large pond (or at least it seemed large to me) on the edge of a pasture at the barn where I boarded my horse. After a ride on hot summer afternoons, I would strip off my horse's tack (and my own shoes and socks) and ride bareback with just a halter and rope into the pond. As we moved out to the center of the pond where the water was deepest, I would float like a leaf off my horse's back, holding on to his mane and the halter rope. His legs would begin to churn beneath me and the cool water from the bottom of the pond would rise up and envelop me. It was the most perfect sense of freedom I have ever known.

Sunset Reflection

Sunset Reflection - 30 x 40 oil
Available at Hildt Galleries, Chicago
Sold

I've had the opportunity to work on some larger paintings these last few weeks. Its been a treat. Unfortunately, this image doesn't do the painting justice- the subtlety of the glazes in the foreground and changes in color temperature just don't register. Anyway, working large has been a goal of mine for several years but this is the first real opportunity I have had to paint this large in quite a while. It presents a whole new set of challenges , but I'm hooked! Now I'm dreaming of 48 x 60 or 60 x 90!

Evening Sky

Evening Sky
10 x 10 Oil on panel
Please contact me if interested in this piece

The last few weeks I have been hit or miss, mostly miss, in my posting schedule. There are lots of good reasons- trying to get a group of larger pieces completed for my Chicago gallery and some personal stuff- but do feel guilty when I let it slide.

I've been having a problem lately with varnish. It seems like every time I varnish a painting I end up with lots of little bumps and debris on the surface that I didn't see before I varnished. I haven't changed varnish- I use Gamvar made by Gamblin- but I have changed my painting methods quite a bit and I've started using gessoed panels in addition to canvas. So I figured there was some technical voodoo at work. I went to the Studio Notes on the Gamblin web site for help. This is a great resource for painters- lots of technical information. I read their article on varnishing and then sent an email off with questions. Within 24 hours, as promised, I received a helpful email from Scott, who helped me pinpoint the problem (dust!) and gave some suggestions as to how to prevent or fix the problem. So today my husband constructed a little canopy under which my paintings reside while the glaze or varnish layers are drying- it was either that or build a new studio which is not in the same building as his shop. The canopy seemed like an easier solution. In addition to strictly technical advice, Studio Notes also has an interesting article comparing direct and indirect painting methods and the art historical context for those methods.

Panels & Palettes

The Pool at Dusk
Oil 20 x 30


After my last post (thanking everyone who responded), I got several emails this past week from people wanting to know what I had discovered on my quest to reproduce the Magic Panel. I got a huge amount of information and some differences of opinion, all of which I appreciate immensely. Right now I am doing my own little R&D project by testing out three different gessos (Artisan, Utrecht, and Art Boards) and Gamblin Ground on hardboard, gatorboard and birch. The plan is to make a bunch of different panels with different grounds and supports, paint on them, then report back.

I've also had several emails over the last few months asking about my palette. I talked a little about that and my technique for doing under paintings followed by layers of transparent color here. When I started to paint again about 18 years ago (yikes!), I started with a limited palette because that's what my teacher and mentor, Ned Jacob, used. I stuck with it for a long time and I'm glad I did. Limited palettes are great for teaching you how to mix color and making you focus on the components of color (value, temperature and chroma). As time went by, I modified the limited palette to suit my needs, but pretty much stayed with primaries, ivory black and white. Last year, when I started working in a more indirect manner, using glazes and scumbling, I knew that I needed to address opacity vs transparency, something I'd not ever really thought much about.

I started out by working with the transparent colors that are well known and obvious- ivory black, burnt sienna, sap green, ultramarine blue. I also already had a color called Shale by Vasari on my palette which is a rich warm transparent dark with a violet undertone. An artist friend suggested I try Indian Yellow - and that was all it took- I was hooked. Wow! what a color! Where had it been all my life!! What other colors had I been ignoring?!?

A little research quickly led me to Gamblin. I was already using some of their products (Gamsol, primarily) so I checked out their line of transparent colors. Now many are in my paint box- transparent orange (every bit as wonderful as it sounds), transparent earth yellow, transparent earth red, ultramarine violet, brown pink (delicious!), hansa yellow light, terre verte, olive green and indanthrone blue. I've also added naples yellow, which is opaque, but mixes beautifully with many of these transparent colors.

So that is how I went from three colors to a "joy ride in a paint box"( as Churchill once famously said) .

A Spring Evening

A Spring Evening oil on board 10 x 10
Available at Hildt Galleries, Chicago

In this piece I'm jumping the gun a bit, meteorologically speaking. Most of the trees around here are still bare but there are a few tantalizing glimpses of spring- flowering trees, daffodils and iris and longer, warmer days. And besides, a girl can dream, can't she?

The big news, at least for me, with this piece is that I painted it on gessoed plywood board instead of canvas. I have pretty much always painted on canvas. When I first began to explore painting in a more indirect way- under painting, glazes, etc- I read a lot about how glazes work better on a smooth surface. I resisted that for a couple of reasons-the main one being that I didn't think I could use the dry brush technique I like to use in my under paintings as effectively without some drag from my painting surface. Another being fear. So when I found this silky smooth board in my studio the other day, I'm not sure why I decided to try it. But boy, am I glad I did! I loved painting on this surface and while it certainly made the paint behave a bit differently, I really loved the way it took glazes. The paint just seemed to float on top of the surface making this lovely atmospheric envelope. Now the problem is I have no idea where this board came from! I'm pretty sure it was handmade, not commercially prepared. So, Steve (my husband) and I have been experimenting this week with gessoed masonite. I found some good information on line about preparing these boards, but I still have lots of questions - like how many coats of gesso, do you need to sand in between or just at the end, whether or not you need to seal them in some way so they are not too absorbent and what to do about larger pieces. So if any of you out there have answers to these questions, I'd love to hear from you!

Starts and Finishes

Over the last couple of months I have gotten several emails asking questions about various aspects of my painting process. Since I don't have a small painting to post today, I thought it might be a good time to write about that... if anyone happens to be interested. First, I should say that my painting process has changed pretty radically over the last year, so what I say here isn't something I've been doing a long while or am even sure is the way I should be doing it. Previously and for many years , I worked in a fairly direct way- not exactly alla prima (except outdoors) but definitely direct. Now, I am painting in a more indirect method which involves using layers of paint - and more passages of transparent paint. So here is a typical lay in using a color made by Vasari called Shale. It is the workhorse dark on my palette- I like it because its transparent and has a warm violet undertone. I used to thin my paint with OMS for this stage, but now I often use an almost dry brush technique to put this first layer down because it will show through in portions of the finished painting. This is also why I like a linen with a little bit of texture so that I can also use that texture to describe elements of the landscape, like here, where the texture of the canvas and the drybrush help describe the field. I also use a rag to wipe out lights and a palette knife to scrape out finer lights.

Here is the next stage of the painting where more transparent layers have been added to the trees and also the field. When you are planning to use layers of glazes you have to be very careful not to get things too dark too quickly. Unlike a more direct method - where you can always adjust the value of a shape with another coat of opaque paint- if you want to keep that area transparent, you have to get it exactly right from the start (which is always a good idea anyway!). In addition, because successive glazes will darken the glazed area, you have to start a bit lighter than you plan to end up. I will also use a scumble occasionally( a thinned translucent layer of paint, usually containing white or some other light opaque mixture) to lighten an area, or to soften edges and create atmosphere. I use Liquin as a medium. I also use it between layers to "oil out" the painting- that is to bring the colors and values back to their original state so another layer can be accurately judged against what has already been laid down. Here, the opaque portions of the painting, the water and sky, haven't been laid in yet but the light value of the canvas "stands in" for that value. Using transparent paint in the darks and opaque paint in the lights is pretty standard procedure, but I like to mix it up sometimes, using mostly transparent paint for the entire piece like here or transparent paint in some of the lights, like here.

Here is the finished painting. The sky and water have been added with opaque paint (Naples yellow and Gamblin Brown Pink + a touch of white) and then glazed over with several transparent layers. More layers have been added to the trees and ground plane, creating what I hope is a rich color harmony. This painting is available at Ernest Fuller Fine Art in Denver, Colorado.