Week-long study with Kevin Macpherson

Last week I did something I haven't done in a very long time...devote myself to the art mistress from morning to night for an entire week. And it was a week studying with the talented Kevin Macpherson at that! As you may have read from my previous blog posts,  I am a big fan of his paintings and his books. He is truly one of the best teachers I have encountered so far. Not only is he a highly skilled painter, but he has a way of honing in on and distilling essential information that actually penetrates my rock-hard noggin.

The workshop took place in a beautiful new space called Chesapeake Fine Art Studio, run by artist Hai-Ou Hou in Stevensville, MD (great location- about 20 mins. away from Annapolis). If you are an artist on the east coast,  it would behoove you to check out her site. Hai-Ou is quite the painter herself, and also appears to be drawing some of the best and brightest painter/instructors in the plein air and traditional/representational painting movements.

I really wish I had time to delve into all I learned during my workshop experience, but life is slamming me pretty hard right now. This week marked a return to the "real world" (insert the sound of  needle scraping across a record here) with kitchen renovation, school activities, and doctor's appointments commanding most of my time and energy.

But my biggest take aways from Kevin's instruction had to do with value and composition. He spoke a lot about light and shadow, and how one can create much stronger paintings by clearly indicating which elements belong in the light family and which belong in the shadow family. (This sounds simple in theory but it isn't always so easy in practice.) He stressed seeing and painting "shapes, not things", with the idea that if we are too wrapped up in painting a "thing" we lose the ability to really see it accurately and how it relates to the rest of the painting as a whole. We spent a good deal of time really learning how to see the true value of things (er, shapes, that is!) He stressed using a color isolator in the field to identify true value and color, determining and laying down your darkest note of color first, followed by the rest of the shadow family, and finally the values in the light family, keying everything up from that very darkest note, so that you really can get a handle on color and value relationships.

In essence, how dark you key your darks will determine how light you key your lights. I use the analogy of playing "Chopsticks" on the piano. You can play low on the scale or high on the scale, but the arrangement of notes and their relationship to each other are the same no matter how high or low you move along the keyboard.

His demos didn't disappoint. In addition to demos in the field, mid-week during his opening he did a remarkable demonstration in the studio (from a photo) on a canvas sized at about 20x24" . During that opening he also presented an inspiring and highly entertaining lecture. This lecture, I understand, was very similar to the one he presented at the Plein Air Convention. Not being able to travel as much as I used to, I really appreciated having the opportunity to see this presentation, in a much more intimate setting.

Though we were meant to work largely out of doors, we had our share of rain and wind. When the weather didn't cooperate, it gave us the opportunity to study (in the gorgeous and spacious studio) some of the more pertinent points Kevin was trying to drive home. We spent a good deal of time studying value relationships among the "light family and shadow family". On another occasion we delved into "The Golden Mean" or "Golden Section" (the informal subdivision of space) and he presented a fascinating slide lecture with many, many inspiring examples of  how it has been used by painters throughout history.

Here are a couple of my plein air paintings done during the workshop that actually reached a level of finish:

At the week's end, I left feeling completely exhausted and totally exhilarated at the same time. I didn't leave with many "finished" pieces, but that wasn't my goal at all any how. What I did leave with was a wealth of knowledge and insight, as well as a good deal of creative spark. Whether that spark ignites a fire, is now totally up to me.

Important/ Not Urgent (a long post on the long view)

"Tuscan Patchwork", Oil, 6x8"

Not much painting this week. After briefly traveling to Texas for a long weekend celebrating my mom's birthday (happy 80th Mom!) I returned to spend the week FINALLY tackling the mountain of paperwork I've had on my "to-do" list for some time.

I used to think I was pretty organized in my art business, but lately I feel like I am forever playing "catch up". There was a time during my studio move when I was literally operating out of boxes. But I'm all set up now and I really can't blame my floundering on the move any more. The only explanation I really have to offer is that during my little break from the routine I'd set up for myself, I developed the bad habit of....well....not having a routine!

"White Road in Val d'Orcia", Oil, 6x8"

I recall a conversation I had some time ago with a gallery owner. I was admiring the work of a fellow artist in the gallery and commenting on how much this artist's work had grown and matured. The gallery owner agreed. They were good paintings, and popular with collectors too. If only they could get the artist to give them more work!

As it turned out, the artist had just recently changed from being a part-time painter with a day job to being an artist full-time. Only, this person was anything but, watching movies, surfing the net--doing most anything rather than painting. According to the gallery owner, ironically, once given the luxury of unlimited time, the artist's productivity plummeted. I could understand this.

So many artists I know can so easily get into the habit of working toward deadlines. But when no deadline looms, (no shows, openings, classes or other projects on the horizon) their commitment (and often their work) can languish. I'm sure all working artists with kids and/or day-jobs everywhere are playing the world's tiniest violin in sympathy! But there is something to be said for having externally imposed time limits.

Of course there are many possible reasons why artists don't create (such as emotional constraints brought on by fear, insecurity, depression, etc.) But when I had a day job, I was forced to carve out a finite amount of time in which to do my creative work, and looking back I am amazed at how productive I was. I remember being up until 2 a.m. painting, even after a full day of work at the bank, going to the gym, showering, and scraping together some dinner (I also remember being single then, and younger too!) Of course, I lamented not having more time to paint, but at the same time, my time limitations lit a fire under me to make the most of each window of opportunity.

But once I started working full time at my painting, I, too, languished for a time due to complete lack of structure and many, many distractions around the home studio. Being the ADD sort that has many other interests doesn't help!  What did finally help me was that I began to structure my business in such a way that it set exteral limitations and schedule requirements. But I may have overdone it a bit. I traveled a lot, I maintained a rigorous work schedule to supply work to the 8 galleries I was working with at the time. And when that wasn't enough busy-ness for me, I taught classes, maintained my website and blog, and eventually opened a studio-gallery with montly shows.

But here's the thing. Even though for a while, the money was good and the trips were fun, ultimately this "system" didn't work for me either. Everything was urgent and important, and constantly being in emergency mode was like going from zero to 100 with no brake in between. And you know what can happen when you speed along at 100 miles/hour? Crash. (Of course you can also crash going 20 miles/hour, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much.)

A part of me began to realize what I was doing, so I began eliminating again. Fewer galleries, fewer trips, and eventually letting go of the downtown space and again setting up a home studio. But what I hadn't realized (or had forgotten) was that eliminating  much of the externally imposed deadlines and obligations without creating an internal structure to replace it would leave me feeling more lost and disorganized than "free."

Many of you readers out there are probably familiar with Stephen Covey's book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. It's become a real classic in the business/success genre, and I'd heard his audio version many years ago but had rather forgotten about it until recently. My favorite part of the book is "Habit 3: Putting First Things First," which includes his famous "Time Management Matrix":

	Urgent	Not Urgent
Important	Quadrant I (crises, deadlines)	Quadrant II (planning, relationships, R&R)
Not Important	Quadrant III(interruptions, some calls, etc.)	Quadrant IV(trivia, busy work, time wasters)

According to Covey, Quadrant II is the place where "successful people" spend the bulk of their time. This Quadrant is filled with proactive things like planning and prevention, as well as growth activities like relationships and recreation (and many creative pursuits!) Instead, Quadrant I tends to be where most people spend their time (crises, deadlines, etc. --AKA emergency mode.) I don't think I'd be too far afield if I said that there are many artists who hang out in this quadrant. I've seen it in myself, and I have known many artists, both professionals and beginners who do not even work at all unless they have an external deadline to work toward (art exhibit, workshop, etc.)

Having externally motivated goals isn't always a bad thing. But, at least for me, it's dangerous if it becomes too much of a habit. In fact, some of us can get so addicted to emergencies (ahem!) that we tend to put off Quadrant II activities until they become Quadrant I activities. And then we get so freaked out and exhausted that we escape to Quadrant IV!

If you're still with me, I'll tell you what all of this Quadrant stuff has to do with art (or at least my art.) Pretty much every goal I have as an artist and as an individual has associated tasks that can ideally be categorized as a Quadrant II activities-- from health goals like proper diet, exercise and adequate sleep, to artistic goals like x number of plein air paintings/ week, and things like experimenting with different mediums, subject matter, or techniques. And if the tasks are managed properly from the get-go, they need never become "urgent" Quadrant I's.

Quadrant I stuff happens. Sometimes even in spite of their best efforts, people lose their jobs, get sick, or just plain forget to deal with things. But while not every emergency is predictable or preventable, I am fortunate to be able to say that, at least at this time, many of them are.  I can prevent stress by getting adequate sleep and exercise. I can prevent freaking out before a show or a workshop by planning and/or preparing for it with a calm and steady production flow in advance. I can position myself for success and future opportunities, even if right now business has slowed. For me, the most obvious path to keeping myself focused on important things before they become urgent, is to create a daily schedule that whittles away Quadrant I and includes as many Quadrant II actvities as possible. I've mentioned this before, but here's the key; you gotta stick to it! In short, it's called discipline. And the last time I checked, discipline requires commitment, not just saying "I'll try."

Ultimately the whole art/artist thing wreaks to high heaven of Quadrant II. I'd venture to say that even for those of us who depend on their art sales as their sole source of income, the vast majority of artists are doing their work first and foremost out of love for it. After all, if it were just about the cash, there are many more efficient ways of making more money in less time.

Will we die without being able to create our art? Will others die without being able to experience it? Well, in reality art doesn't have that kind of urgency. But if life is to be truly enjoyed, we have to move beyond merely surviving to thriving, which for me includes being uplifted, challenged, or inspired. That's the benefit of art, and in that way, it is so very important.

p.s. By the way...I did manage to eek out a couple of small Tuscany studies, playing with the idea of pattern. You can now see purchasing details for these and the other two small paintings mentioned in my previous post by clicking here.

Alla prima portrait study

In my previous post I mentioned an out of town trip last weekend. I was over in Colonial Beach VA pursuing one of my main 2009 goals (exploring the figure) by taking another class with painter/portrait artist Robert Liberace. This class was a 2 day workshop on alla prima portrait painting. Since this is the way I am accustomed to painting with my landscapes (particularly smaller works and those done en plein air) I was really drawn to the class. Rob is as enthusiastic and energetic as I remember him to be from my first class with him in figure drawing last semester at the Art League School. I am continually enthralled by his masterful demos, and I found it interesting that the process he set forth for this style of portraiture was very similar to the method I use to paint my landscapes.

The palette we used, however, was quite a bit different and more expansive than what I typically use for my landscapes; burnt umber, cad yellow light, followed by several reds, several blues, two violets and a couple of greens. He also used two different kinds of white, Titanium (a very strong, bright white) and Lead White (the most opaque of the whites.)

Rob began with an imprimatura (toning) in burnt umber on Ampersand panel, and a very quick and sketchy (though amazingly accurate) grisaile. From there he then built his way to layers of color from shadow to midtone, halftone and finally highlights. Of course he made it look so easy, but I soon found out otherwise!

The model I painted on this first day was a very stunning young lady who looked to be about 15 or 16. Turns out she was actually only 12. I think for her age and energy level she did exceedly well sitting for us, and it was a real visual treat to paint her. By the luck of the draw, I found myself setting up in a spot that put the model in complete profile. I'm not normally overly excited with profile views. In fact I find them boring. But the model had a great hairdo and a nice twist to her torso that actually enlivened my view and made it fun to paint:

She was wearing a great red satin dress in the Asian style, which went well with her beautiful golden skintone and almond shaped eyes. Unfortunately in the remaining time we had left to work (after Rob's excellent demo) I got none of the dress, save for a brief outline. I did take a photo of her though, in case I decide to work more on the painting. But most times I leave my workshop studies as is, to serve as a reminder of what I learned and in what areas I still need to grow.

In any case, I  learned a lot from this first sitting. First of all, just as in plein air painting, it's important to get your drawing down accurately and commit to your big idea as soon as possible. While the lighting in a portrait studio doesn't change the way the natural light does en plein air, what does change incrementally is the model. It's really hard for a model to get the exact same pose and facial expression after a break. And it's also really hard to hold a pose for any length of time (especially if you happen to be 12 years old!) So while it's tempting to jump right in to color, Rob wanted us to spend a good deal of time first developing a strong grisaille and really fleshing out the portrait in it's proper porportion, placement, light, shadow, and halftone-- BEFORE putting down the first dab of color.

Another very important thing I learned once I moved beyond the grisaille had to do with painting children. As in landscape painting, it is oh so very easy to overdo it by getting lost in details. It's an interesting dance; because while you want to accurately record what you see, too much unnecessary detail can detract from the character of the subject and weaken the overall painting. At about an hour into my painting I was well into color, painting in every shadow I could possibly see on the model's face. I knew the likeness in her profile was pretty accurate, but still  I wasn't getting her character--her "glow".

Then Rob came by and said, "You're aging her." Taking my brush, with literally two sweeping strokes he pulled some of the middle skintone I had put down on her upper cheek and quickly swept it downward, blending away almost all of the shadow work I'd done around her mouth and nose, leaving only part of the cheekbone shadow and the shadow work I'd done under her jaw. I just stood there and chuckled. It was like one of those "miracle line eraser" wrinkle ads you see on the Internet.

"You just took 10 years off of her, " I said. Ah, if only it were that easy in real life!

p.s. The above 20x16" study was after about 2 to 2 1/2 hrs. of work. The sketch in the upper right corner of the canvas was a hands-on instructive from Rob early on, because the initial lines of my grisaille around the eyes were too juicy and lacked definition.

French country garden painting WIP, cont'd

Now that my gardens are right outside my studio doors, I'm finding it far too easy to get distracted with gardening instead of painting--especially now that spring is here. I did do some more work on the painting of the garden passage in St. Cirq Lapopie started earlier in the week though, so I thought I'd continue to post the progression. It's almost there, but I will probably do a bit more work on it before it's all said and done:

I've learned something from the last few oils I've done and I'll share it in case it may be of help to other painters. As odd as it seems, I am finding it is actually easier to manipulate the paint and have better effects with my edges if I use a lot more of it. I've never considered myself to be terribly stingy with paint to begin with, (and it may not be all that obvious in this picture,) but lately I've been laying it on pretty thickly and it's like, "Wow, that makes things so much easier!"

When I've taught workshops, I've definitely noticed a certain "stinginess" in beginning painters, both in terms of the amount of the paint colors they'll mix up on their palette, and in the application of the paint onto the canvas. This usually stems from just being uncertain, tentative, and maybe even a little intimidated. But what I try to get across is that in alla prima painting, they are actually creating a lot more work for themselves by mixing up flat little puddles of paint and using skinny, dabby little strokes.

There is a caveat, though (isn't there always when it comes to any kind of painting "rules"?) It helps to have a certain amount of confidence in your drawing and compositional skills if you're going to lay it on thickly (and in fact, this may be part of what's going on with beginners who are feeling tentative and intimidated). Otherwise when painting thickly, you may find yourself needing to do more scraping to make significant changes.

But over all for the kind of direct painting I'm doing, using a lot more paint is helping me to actually have better control AND keep it looser at the same time (if that makes any sense.) Manipulating thicker paint to soften edges and refine shapes does require a light touch though. You aren't moving it around to such an extent that you're smearing it or picking up too much of the underneath and surrounding paint layers. If you do that, there's a danger of having a mud-fest on your hands.

Small figure studies

I haven't written in a while about my return back to the exploration of the figure, but it has been going relatively well. The weekly class I've taken with Robert Liberace has been wonderful, but I must say that the 1.5 + hour commute (each way) has been a little bit of a challenge, and unfortunately I had to miss a class or two in the semester because my car broke down. (That's one of the drawbacks of taking an out of town class--you can't exactly catch a ride if your transportation source goes south!) So while I've felt a little bit disjointed with my schedule glitch, what I've also discovered is that my time in class flies by very quickly, and that my execution with drawing the figure from life is still relatively slow.

Rob did some amazing demonstrations during the course of each class, and I often felt torn about whether I should watch the demos for the duration or work on my own drawings. I tried to acheive a balance of the two as best I could, but since my time with Rob was rather limited (and I can hang out with myself most any time), watching Rob's demos often won out. As a result I've ended up with rather a lot of "beginnings," and nothing from this class really has the feeling of a finished work.

But that is the nature of  learning, I think. And whenever  I teach my own workshops I always try to emphasize to students that in a learning environment, the goal of finishing or making a "framable product" should be subordinate to learning and experiementation.

I took a decent amount of figure drawing in college, so I don't consider myself to be a novice. But I'll say without equivocation that this class was definitely experimental for me. In fact, since it's been such a long time since I've done much if any life drawing, in hindsight I might have been slightly cavalier by signing up for this class. Rob has a lot of devoted followers and it became clear to me early on that many of his students (talented in their own right and some also teachers themselves) were quite familiar both with Rob's teachings and with life drawing in general.

I probably would have done well to have first gained a level of comfort by taking an entire semester of a more basic class in just one or two drawing mediums-- charcoal and chalk, for instance-- to really develop my drawing.  The class was called something like "exploring the figure," which is a hint that it was the next stage beyond just fundamentals. And while all along the way we learned about correct proportion and developing mass and form, there was a little more emphasis in this class on exploring different mediums from drawing to painting, which added a whole new level of learning to an already complicated subject.

But neither my car breakdowns nor my cavalier course selection was enough to detract from the class as a whole, thanks wholly to the instructor. I found Rob to be an incredibly energetic, enthusiastic, and helpful instructor. Most of all I found him to be so very inspirational. Beyond his masterful technical acuity, he displays an incredibly beautiful sensitivity and true artistry in his work. So in many ways,  I am glad to have taken this particular class; because not only did it enable me to see the range he is able to acheive in his own work, but I also could see hints and clues about what is possible for myself.

*Note, scattered throughout this post are a few of my studies from the class. All are pretty small--ranging from 4x6" to 8x10". The small gestural studies (short poses from 3 to 7 minutes) were done in sepia ink. The two subsequent pieces were watercolor, and the final piece was a grisaille on linen, done on the last day of class.

Frayssinet Village painting- WIP resolved

I have been doing a TON of painting lately!! Unfortunately the painting I'm speaking of involves latex paint and a roller rather than the oil on canvas variety. The good news though is that I'm getting steps closer to finishing the new studio. (I'll post new pics of the paint colors I've chosen soon, once I've finished painting and had a chance to clean up the debris.) The other bit of good news (to me) is that I carved out a bit of time to steal away to my temporary studio space/closet to finish the French village painting I was working on a short while ago. This is yet another painting I will likely try and re-shoot when conditions are better (Note: Mission accomplished!). The color is definitely truer, but the details are lost. (I know I'm sounding like a broken record about my photography woes, but it's a significant frustration that I completely underestimated when I was planning my "interim" period between moves from old studio to new.  I like to get good photos, both high and low res.,  of whatever I paint. It's one reason why I'm not doing the weekly updates to my website that I'm normally accustomed to (in addition to the fact that I'm just not painting as much due to the current construction project.) But since we're dealing with a lot of ice/sleet/rain here in Virginia with  no chance of photographing this outside, I'll quit my whining and post what I have:

"Light and Shadow, Frayssinet, France" Oil on Canvas, 24x30"

As you can see if you compare this to my last version, the main edits were in the focal area concerning the figure. I also decided to shed a considerable number of years from my little lady (if only I could do that in real life.) Grandma looked so tired walking up that hill, so I let her granddaughter take the trek. LOL.

I now consider this painting pretty much resolved to my satisfaction. Thanks to those of you who chimed in on my soliciations for the last round of edits. Whether it's obvious or not, I feel that I took all of your thoughts into consideration, while still holding on to my original intent for the piece. 

By the way, this is the village where I stayed last year during my "artist's retreat" in France, and where I've planned to hold my own retreat/workshop for June. The gateway to the right leads to the courtyard of Le Vieux Couvent, and you can see part of a building on the left (behind the irises.) Sadly, I am now at a point where I'm considering cancelling this trip...or at least postponing until the economy improves. We'll see. More on that when I know more.

French pastoral complete, and another in progress

We've had a lot of rain here this fall, and when it's not been raining, I've been trying to manage the parade of contractors who are working on the new studio . Unfortunately this means I've mostly missed the chance to capture the gorgeous fall colors en plein air. Well, it's a worthwhile tradeoff, I think. Meanwhile, I have the consolation of finally having finished a painting:  

 

Pastoral, St. Germain de Bel Air Oil on Canvas, 20x24" Click here for more info.

I'm also just beginning to lay out a new composition, again of the beautiful part of Southwestern France I visited last spring. To you it may just look like a bunch of scribbles. But trust me, I'm sketching out a street view of Frayssinet, the village where I stayed. I'm attracted to the scene for the sheer beauty of the place, but also by the interesting cast shadow pattern of the afternoon light:

WIP- Frayssinet, 24x30"

What I have  done here is just a pretty transparent wash to figure out my composition and the rythm of the shadows. To do this I've used a mixture of Transparent Red Oxide and just a little Ultramarine Blue.  Transparent Red Oxide is the one earth color that has consistently made itself at home on my palette of late, and I'm finding it such a useful addition. For an underpainting it adds a warm glow, but unlike Cadmium Red light, it is beautifully transparent. It also lacks the high staining properties that Alizarin Crimson does so it is easier to make adjustments in the preliminary stages.

Plein air on the James- a class and a painting of my own

Yesterday I held a small plein air painting class down by the James River. It was actually scheduled for today, but we came to a consensus to switch the days due to the impending weekend cold front heading into the area. It was a good move. Yesterday we had lots of sunshine and temperatures were in the 80's. But by the afternoon the clouds were rolling in, and this morning there is a soft, steady rain. As for the class, it was a great day of teaching, sharing, and painting but by the end of the day I was thoroughly pooped. Meanwhile on the home studio front, we now have a mountain of building material on our property, which means that if the weather clears the builders can start their work as early as tomorrow. According to our builder, the shell could be up in five days (or less). I was shocked when I heard this, especially since this is stick-built rather than prefab. But I was reminded that basically this is a rectangle we're talking about, with no custom framing for the windows or doors. So apparently by building standards it should be a fairly simple project. I'll have to be on my toes if I want to document the build in photos--if I blink they'll be done!

Lastly, I do have a small painting to share of my own--another one of Brown's Island--not done in the class, but earlier this week. I just haven't had time to post until now:

"Morning at the Levee" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x12" Contact me for more info.

I was very happy with my work on this painting but stupidly did not store it properly and my backpack fell right across the middle of it on the drive home, causing a huge smear! I've repaired it mostly, but I think I'll bring it back to the site to adjust the distant trees.

I'm becoming more and more enthralled with painting down at the James River. Brown's Island alone offers hundreds of painting possibilities. As I've noted before, it's also a fascinating site for Richmond's history, where Civil War and turn-of-the-century industrial ruins stand right alongside our modern architecture. I found some additional info about the levee on a nearby sign upstream:

It's somewhat ironic that I've only recently begun to explore this particular point along the river just at the point that I'm moving out of my downtown studio. Looks like I'll still be coming downtown to work from time to time, even after my home studio is built.

Paint Annapolis

Haven't gotten a whole lot of painting done in the last few days, but hope to remedy that this weekend in Annapolis. I'm going up to participate in the Mid Atlantic Plein Air Painters Association paint-out that is running concurrently with the Paint Annapolis competition.  Paint Annapolis is an annual juried competition, also spearheaded by the MAPAPA. 30 artists who have been selected by a jurying process compete for prizes by painting en plein air over a long weekend around the historic section of town near the harbor. I have not been one to apply for many competitions and I missed the deadline to apply for this one. Up to now, I guess competitions haven't really been on my radar. I don't really consider myself to be competitive in nature and the thought of "performance painting" just seemed like more stress than fun. On the other hand, aside from the opportunities they offer, there is a lot to be said for immersing yourself in a community that is welcoming to artists, where the focus is just painting, painting, painting.

There is certain energy you get from working with other artists in a group setting that encourages and inspires, and makes you want to do more and do better. That is the experience I have had with workshops, whether I've been leading them or taking them. And while accolades and prizes are nice, I suspect this is the real appeal to the paint outs and competitions for many plein air painters too.

This is what I had in mind when I registered for the paint out. Since up to now I've been a pretty inactive member of the MAPAPA, I figured this would give me a chance to do something with the group, as well as to see what the Paint Annapolis event is like from the inside, without the added pressure of competing. I also love Annapolis and have always wanted to go and paint there. I am supposed to have free high speed Internet access at my hotel, so if all goes well, I will blog about my experience while I'm there.

The weather is looking promising, and I'm excited about the trip. Still, the event probably couldn't come at a worse time for me personally. Moving time is fast approaching, and next week we start breaking ground for the new studio! I told my husband that I couldn't believe I was going to Annapolis with all that we have going on. "I really think I am going insane," I said. He had one word in reply, "...Going?"

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. See this page  or the links in my sidebar for all my workshop info.

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 other  big news is that as of October 31st I will be closing the downtown gallery space and  moving 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.

Richmond plein air class info is up

Heading out early again to get in some morning painting, so hopefully I'll have something new to show later on. Meanwhile, I've posted details for "Warm Up to Plein Air" in Richmond, VA. Click here to visit the workshop page. The France workshop/painting holiday info is almost ready (promise!), but it has been a time nailing down pricing what with the Dollar/Euro conversion and the communication limitations due to time zones. More on that very soon.

A few announcements

Being heavily immersed in summer activities I'm afraid I've kind of fallen off the blog wagon lately. But things have been happening behind the scenes, and I'd thought I'd share a few interesting tidbits of what's coming down the pike.

• France in 2009! I've just gotten the word that my dates for a 10 day plein air painting workshop at Le Vieux Couvent have been confirmed! If you've been reading my blog, you've already heard my raves about this beautiful, enchanting part of Southern France.

I'm excited to have the opportunity to take a group there myself, for 10 days of painting, touring, eating, and just soaking in the atmosphere. Dates are June 3-13, 2009. This year during that time period I had word from the workshop host that the poppies were in full bloom and the roses were going crazy in the garden. I'm preparing my brochure now and should have it up on my website by next week. If you have an interest in joining me for this wonderful creative adventure, please check back, or just contact me and I'll send you a brochure with all the details as soon it's done

•  Moving ahead. Well it just seemed like yesterday that I moved into my beautiful gallery space, but the time has come for me to make another move. I don't have a lot of details to share yet, but come fall I will be letting go of the downtown gallery location. I'm sure I'll be writing on that in the weeks ahead but a lot of details need to be ironed out before I really have anything solid to share.
•  Warm up to Plein Air! Since the time of my last workshop this past spring, I've received a number of inquiries asking when I'd be having another class. Due to the aforementioned upcoming move, I had to wait a bit to schedule anything solid. But here's what I'd like to do: In September I'd like to offer some one-day plein air modules in the Richmond area that I'm calling "Warm up to Plein Air."  If you are a painter who has always wanted to try plein air painting, this will be a fun opportunity to give it a shot. Experienced plein air painters can benefit as well, as this day-long module will include a demo and time for painting. We'll talk about the tools of the trade that I've found useful, plus tips to make the most of your time outdoors. I'm limiting these modules to a very small size so we can make the most of our time together. Dates and details will be posted on my website, hopefully also by next week. Meantime, feel free to contact me if you're interested.

Sketches from France- plus a brag

Just before I left for France my dear friends Jack and Mikki sent me some wonderful books on travel sketching. My favorite from the group is Artist En Routeby Betty Lynch. (A quick look at the price that this book is now going for makes me glad that I got this as a gift!) Betty is a very talented watercolorist, but I am partial to her simple pen and ink sketches, and they inspired me to keep my own little art journal for my trip.

I brought a 5x8" moleskine journal with me, which fit nicely into my carryall bag. Never one to be without as many options as possible, I chose the notebook that would accept watercolors (though most of my sketches were pen and ink.) Here's one with my notes of the Abbey I blogged about yesterday:

Most of these were just quick little jots, but the journal really helped me to lock in the memories in place, and keep track of the places we visited in sequential order. So many times on action packed trips like these, all of the memories start to blend together after a while, so I really recommend this combination of traveling, sketching and journaling. 

On the same day that we visited Abbaye Nouvelle, we also visited the village of Beynac (in the Dordogne), with its fascinating 12th century chateau perched atop dramatic limestone cliffs. Only time for a quick sketch for this part of the itinerary, which I did after our picnic lunch by the river bank. We are steeped deep into Medieval history here; this castle is where Richard the Lionheart met his death!

***And now, we interrupt this art travel log for a quick brag ;-). There is a fine new oil painter in the Young family, and she's got a blog! Check out my very talented niece, Molly Young and her Daily Painting blog.

Molly came all the way up from Texas to take my April workshop this past spring, and I got the chance to see her talent in person. I wish I could say I had something to do with it, but she's been cutting her own path for a while now and I look forward to seeing where she takes it. Her blog is brand new, but she's been painting for a couple of years, and she's a quick study to boot.

The fruit trees of early spring were all abloom while Molly was here visiting, and we took advantage of it by heading up to Monticello for a quick visit.  Here's a shot of the two of us at Monticello:

 

Molly's got some wonderful new paintings from that visit on her blog. Here's one of my faves.

Back from France painting trip- a travel log, of sorts

I am one week back from a most inspiring painting holiday to southern France, and over the next while I'll be posting pictures of my paintings and sketches from my journal, as well as a few photos highlighting my trip. I've returned to lovely weather here in Virginia as well, so my travel posts will likely be interspersed with other art-related posts as I gear up for a summer of plein air painting. I'll start with my favorite painting from this trip (though I may need to reshoot as the greens are looking a little "off" in this image). This is a plein air painting looking upward towards the ruins of a 13th century abbey, ironically named "Abbaye Nouvelle" (New Abbey). I and the other artists on the trip were so fortunate to be able to paint at the abbey during the time of their annual plant and flower festival. It was a lively scene with a stunningly beautiful backdrop. It was also quite a challenge painting there, not only due to the light shifting in and out behind the clouds, but also due to the inquisitive passers-by. We attracted quite a few onlookers, and all were very complimentary and encouraging:

"Fete des Plantes, Abbaye Nouvelle" Oil on linen, 9x12"

This was really an investigative trip for me. I have been invited to conduct a painting workshop at a beautiful site in the Lot region, so I thought it would be worthwhile for me to travel there in advance to meet the hosts and get a sense for what they did. I also really wanted to go back to France, so this was a good excuse ;-)

Exterior of my "home" during my 10 day painting holiday.

The setting was idyllic. Le Vieux Couvent is an old convent that has been converted to gites and B&B style rooms, with lovely gardens AND a large art studio to boot. The session I chose for my visit was led by plein air painter Mary Pettis, and it was billed as an "alla prima artist's retreat". It appealed to me not only because I liked Mary's paintings, but also because it seemed geared more towards experienced artists interested in painting, sharing, and touring together--perhaps not requiring as much instruction as what would be expected in a "how to" type class. Mary did do one demo, however, and offered plenty of feedback and great tips during our time together. I admit I did not know of Mary before this retreat, but she is a very fine painter and a lovely person who is very knowledgeable and generous with her thoughts and ideas.

This particular retreat was for 8 days, so considering time for arrivals and departures, there were 6 days for actual painting and touring. Given the way I like to travel, this is a pretty short overseas trip for me, so I couldn't resist tacking on a few days after the retreat was over so that I could rent a car to sketch and tour on my own. I was glad I did. I can never seem to predict how I'll do with the jetlag, and it took me a couple of days on both ends of the trip to get fully back into the swing!

Stay tuned for additional posts about my trip. I'm still going through all of my pictures, my journal, etc., and have plans for plenty more pics and posts detailing my experiences at this beautiful location. Speaking of details, I'm also working out the details for a painting workshop of my own at this location, hopefully in late spring/early summer of next year. More info to come, but in the meantime, please contact me directly if you're interested in joining me for a France workshop in '09!

Art walk tonight, plus "deep thoughts" on goals

It's looking like a gorgeous day today, so I'm going to try to get out and do some painting outside before heading downtown to get the gallery ready for the First Fridays Downtown Art Walk. Tonight's artwalk opening continues a showing from last month called "Spring Mix". The theme is gardens, flowers, anything Spring. But since my place is primarily an art studio, I've always got new stuff on view, even when a show carries over. June will be my last Art Walk of the season, debuting my 2nd annual "En Plein Air" show. As expected from the title, it will feature work I've done on location. I'll have new  and recent local paintings of Richmond, the Blue Ridge Mountains, and some from my upcoming travels to southwestern France. Here are the details for the May and June shows:

Where we are: 

Jennifer Young Studio & Gallery is located at 16 East Main Street, (between 1st and Foushee) two blocks east of the Jefferson Hotel.

We're open during the First Fridays Richmond Art Walk from 6 to 8:30 PM and by appointment at other times. The Art Walk season continues right on through the summer, but we'll be taking a hiatus in July and August. For additional information contact us or call 804-254-1008. Click here to view a map and get driving directions from your location.

****** 

As I look ahead  to the end of  the Art Walk season (for me) I am thinking a lot about personal vs. professional goals. Working full time in this art thing, I've accepted that there is always going to be a lot of overlap. My art IS personal (I'd have it no other way) but it is also my business, and sometimes it is really a challenge not to have those two aspects completely blur.

Since I've been at my downtown studio, my focus has been on the professional end of things. Namely, how can I (with an artist's budget) best market and utilize this space? How can I maximize its potential (it IS a gorgeous space)? I had many openings, joined committees, changed my hours a few times (now back to "by appointment"), and hosted a workshop (a first at this studio).  I've had some wonderful experiences and some times when I feel as if I've fallen flat on my face. But, that's pretty much par for the course in any business I guess.  In any event, in the relatively short amount of time that I've had the studio gallery, I've learned a great deal, about my business and (perhaps more importantly) about myself. 

 For a while now (at least in the last 6 months, maybe more) I feel like I've been involved with a lot of business (busy-ness!) and less and less painting. For me, the painting (or drawing, or printmaking) has always been the driving force and that's where I need to return my focus for a while. And painting for purpose of expansion rather than for production, if that makes any sense. I look forward to it. 

I'm kicking off with a plein air painting trip to France, but my goal for the summer is to devote more time to those things  that have always fed  my spirit and ultimately helped me to advance as an artist and as a creative liver-of-life. More plein air painting. More drawing. More experimenting. More reading. More time at home. Gardening. Travel. Finally taking a sewing class. Learning about web development and redesigning my website (here comes that blur!) Teaching, if it's in the cards. And yeah, more relaxing!

Okay, that's a pretty ambitious looking summer list, but I'm thinking of it more as a summer menu. A few of these things take priority for me, and the rest I can select according to time and desire. As I said, I look forward to it.

Small WIP & value sketches amid the rubble

A series of wet gray days have kept me from painting outside, so I've spent some time putting my studio  (and myself!) back together in the aftermath of the workshop. For me, "spring cleaning" always seems to make things look worse before they get better.

I have little piles around me...piles of books, of paperwork, and also a small pile of unfinished paintings. Among the latter is this demo painting that I started in the workshop, which I may noodle around with and bring to a more finished state. It's small, just 12x9", so we're talking maybe just orzo or macaroni-sized noodling.

I started this workshop demo talking about composition and values and how they related to each other. Since we were working with the limitations of photographs, I wanted to try to get folks to think about the possibility of composition beyond just what they saw in front of them in the picture. When I'm painting en plein air, I will often do a series of small value sketches before I jump right into painting. I will use this same approach too in the studio, to develop my design.

Along with a contour sketch, it is extremely helpful to do this in a very abbreviated quick grayscale, so that I can get a general idea of my value relationships and the overall design that is created not only by the placement of line but also by the pattern of dark and light:

 

This is not a new concept, of course. Artists have forever been studying and writing about the arrangement of values (lights and darks) to compose a strong design. The artsy fartsy term for this is "Notan". Okay, it's actually Japanese. Notan sketches can be fleshed out in recongnizable contours (like mine above) or they can be very quick and gestural thumbnail abstractions created for the purpose of identifying the underlying design.

The values are generally limited to four or less.  I used 2 markers; black and light gray, deriving my middle gray from a blending of the two, and letting the white of the paper stand as my lightest value. 

Of course, in life we see a much wider range of values, but in designing and executing a painting, I'm learning that simpler is often better.  If you look at many of Monet's paintings, you might notice that many of them have a very small range of values indeed, and he used color temperature and very soft edges to add a wonderful sense of atmospheric depth to his work.

A quick Google search for "Notan" yielded some good results for further exploration:

• A good series of Notan lessons from Virtual Art Academy
• Artist Robert Genn discusses Notan in his inspirational newsletter "The Painter's Keys"
• Painter Ed Terpening does it!
• Katherine Tyrrell does too.

How about you?

Scenes from the painting workshop

I'm baaaack! Fell in a black hole of the blogosphere for a while and am slooowly recovering from a very busy and intense workshop at my studio this past weekend. Church Hill Photography took some great environmental shots of one of the demo portions  of the class on the first day, so I thought I'd share them here. (BTW, Elaine Odell of Church Hill Photography also made the excellent portrait of me in my studio, so be sure to check out her website if your looking for a photographer who really knows her stuff!) While I've taught off-site at other hosted locations, this was the first time I've actually hosted a workshop myself, and preparing for it was quite a bit more work than I'd imagined because I had to prep both my lessons and the space itself.  The participants did some great work though, and were enthusiastic and so much fun. And it was really exciting for me to share ideas about color, shape, values, and composition. Hopefully everyone felt like they learned a lot. I know I did!

After a brief discussion of color mixing (and especially mixing greens) I did a little landscape demo. This is a good long shot that shows me sketching out my composition at my setup, as well as the studio beyond. The participants worked in the front two rooms, so we had to configure the space in a way that would protect those beautiful wood floors. Hence the lovely blue spill-resistant floor coverings!

Here's a cool shot  through the easel. There's a large mirror to my back, which I use to check my compositions in reverse. It really does help to give me a "fresh look" at my work. That cutie just over my shoulder in the gray tee is my talented niece Molly, a fine emerging artist who I was delighted to have come all the way from Texas to take the class and visit. The "man in black" looming in the doorway is my husband and partner Dave. As always, he was a HUGE help to me, keeping everything running smoothly.

This shot shows the demo piece, coming right along.

The workshop was pretty action packed, but by being in the studio we were able to really focus some of the more important elements of painting as they pertain to the landscape, in conditions that were controllable. I hope to do some plein air classes too in addition to the studio intensive, as this "takes it to the next level" and throws a whole other slew of concerns into the pot (watch this page for future workshop listings). Luckily I hadn't planned a plein air class for this past weekend though, as we had some really varied weather ranging from cloudburst thunderstorms to overcast damp chill.

On Monday Molly and I took a road trip up to Charlottesville so that she could see Jefferson's Monticello. Wow! What an absolutely gorgeous day--the redbuds, fruit trees, dogwoods and tulips were going crazy. I hope I can get up back up there some time soon to paint some of it-- and paint some local plein air scenes as well. Right after I take care of a few neglected household and business matters, that is. Whatever I paint, I'll be sure to post here first, so stay tuned....

Plein Air Easels- A pochade box for travel

This is my 4th in a series of posts about artist's easels. You can see the other installments here:Part I: On the quest for the perfect easel Part II: Guerilla Painters' Pochade Box Part III: My Soltek Easel

After having already written extensively about my Soltek love, it may seem curious that I'd have yet another pochade- style easel to write about. But what I've found (and I'm sure other plein air painters can empathize) is that the quest for the most versatile and easy to use plein air easel must be tempered with the quest for the lightest possible plein air setup. This is especially important if you're an artist who likes to travel.

With the airline regulations being what they are, it has become more and more of a challenge trying to figure out what items to check (if any) and what items to carry on in the ever-diminishing size of the acceptable carry on bag. While I may not be able to bring all of my art supplies with me on the plane, I prefer to have my easel in my carry-on. When traveling overseas, this sometimes means carrying my bag while running to make a flight connection, so a lightweight and compact bag becomes all the more important.

While the Soltek is lighter than many other setups, I still found myself wondering, "Can I go lighter?"  The answer is, of course, yes. Surely there are many options for going lighter, but the one I chose was the "Prochade Kit" by EasyL,  referenced in a book I blogged about a while back by Kevin Macpherson;  Landscape Painting Inside & Out.

I had seen other EasyL paint boxes and I was impressed by the setup. In fact, if I hadn't already gotten a Soltek I might have seriously considered the EasyL Versa, which offers a good deal of versatility while still being lightweight, and at a much more wallet-friendly price. But having already made my "primary" plein air easel selection, I honed in on the Prochade Kit for travel.

At first, I thought I'd only get the little box. After all, I already had a tripod and a couple of bags. But after really examining the Kit, which included a lighter-weight tripod, a GREAT bag, and a number of other nifty add-ons and doo-dads, I justified that it was a decent buy, considering. I really feel like a lot of thought went into the design of the kit, and with everything weighing in at around 10 lbs, I couldn't imagine as detailed a  setup that is much lighter.

When I first got this little box, I was a bit wary. Compared to the other models I'd experienced, the box seemed a little TOO light, and I was concerned about its fragility. The adaptive panel holder appears to raise and lower by the means of some kind of internal spring. I wasn't used to this kind of mechanism and wondered if it would hold up, but after several months of use it has so far worked fine. It does come with a warning, however, not to extend this mechanism beyond the 10" high limit. It holds panel heights from 6 to 10 inches, and any reasonable width. Since I usually paint on the small side out of doors, and particularly when I'm traveling, this was actually fine for me. And while I feel the external latches that close the box are on the flimsy side, the knob and sliding hinge are of a quality that is actually quite good.

But probably what I like most about this kit is the bag. It has a perfect number of slots, pockets, and compartments, making packing and organizing supplies a breeze. While this bag isn't suitable for larger easels or thicker pochade boxes, it is perfect for a true cigar-style pochade box, whether purchased from EasyL or home-made. It is  the right size for the airline carry-on regulations; and while it is lightweight, it is extremely durable and has enough padding to make it comfortable to carry.

Overall I have been quite happy with the kit, for the main reason that it met my specific needs of a travel box that is lightweight, but complete enough so that I can do more than just light sketching. But I don't know that I'd recommend this kit as a primary setup for the every day plein air. Even weighted down,  it does not hold up in the wind--and I've found myself holding on to it for dear life during some unexpected wind gusts.

I'll close this little book on plein air easels with some final thoughts.

• Do plenty of research before you buy your plein air easel, but beyond that, give some thought to the way you typically paint. If you don't paint large, you probably don't need an easel that accomodates a 30" high canvas. Perhaps even consider writing down the key features that are important to you in a plein air easel before shopping.

• You don't have to spend a lot of money to paint en plein air. There are a number of options that are quite inexpensive that you can start with before taking the leap of buying a fancier model:

  • One of the most inexpensive commercially available models I've found is the Studio RTA simple tripod steel easel. Nothing fancy, but quite sturdy and lightweight (though because of this it will probably not stay put in strong wind.) With this model, you'll have to hold your palette and find somewhere to put your supplies, but at $40 it's a decent deal. I have a couple of these easels at my studio for workshops and they work quite well.

  • Another option is just to consider making your own plein air setup if you are particularly handy. I've promised my husband that this is going to be my next pochade box . Cost? Under $15! (hand slapping squarely on forehead.) Thank you to Ellie Clemons for the wonderfully detailed instructions, and to artist John Haynes' thoughtful blog  that I just discovered for pointing me to Ellie's page. Also check out artist David Cornelius' hand made work-in-progress "easel pal" for some additional ideas.

• If your art travels involve flying, be sure to check out the many (and seemingly ever-changing) guidelines and regulations before deciding what to bring and what to leave at home. The Gamblin website has some useful tips about traveling with your paints. Artist Robert Genn had a good discussion going not too long ago on this subject also, on "The Painter's Keys" --a website that offers artists tips on matters both practical and inspirational.

• Have fun and happy painting!

New spring landscape painting workshop forming now

 Note: This workshop is now full, but if you'd like to receive future workshop notifications please contact me by email, and I'll add you to my workshop mailing list. Just a quick announcement  to say that I'm now accepting registration for a new landscape oil painting workshop at my Richmond, VA studio:

Painting the Landscape in Oils (Studio Workshop) When: April 11-13, 2008 Friday evening 6-8 Saturday 10-5 Sunday 10-5

Where: Jennifer Young Studio & Gallery 16 E. Main Street Richmond, VA 23219 1-877-DIAL-ART (1-877-342-5278) 804-254-1008 (within VA)

Here are the workshop details and registration info...

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.

 

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!