Plein Air Crush

This week I am coming down off of an exciting weekend in Floyd County, Virginia, where I participated in the inaugural plein air event called Plein Air Crush. In total there were about 19 artists participating over the course of the weekend, with judging and awards taking place on Sunday. This year the event centered around Chateau Morrisette Winery, which has some interesting architectural features, lovely gardens and vineyards, not to mention a fine restaurant and some pretty tasty wine. It sounds luxurious doesn't it? But keep in mind I was not doing much sipping. Instead I was schlepping; schlepping a bunch of art gear and standing for hours, out in the elements. It was hard on the body but rewarding for the spirit, and I had a good time painting the new-to-me scenery and meeting other artists.

We converged on Friday evening for a little meet and greet, but the painting portion of the event kicked off on Saturday, where we faced the threat of rain and some pretty dark skies. Painting in these conditions is really challenging because the value range is very limited and the light fairly flat. So I decided to set up in the vineyard where I found opportunities for some strong linear elements and soft edges that provided interesting compositional options:

  "Vineyard in Gray Light", oil on panel, 9x12"

In the afternoon I decided to venture a little further afield to paint a view of Buffalo Mountain: "Buffalo Mountain View", oil on linen, 8x8"

Sunday was the quick draw. It was incredibly windy. Worse than clouds and rain, wind conditions are a nearly impossible situation for the plein air painter because of the danger of having your entire setup topple and/or take flight.  The wind at the winery required that most painters seek a shelterd place unless they had a good way of weighting their setup (which I didn't).

Down at the vineyard though it was much warmer and virtually windless. I hadn't really planned on doing another vineyard piece but I figured it was my best option for success when we had a time limit.

"Sunlit Vines", oil on linen, 9x12"

We had three hours for the quick draw (which is actually pretty generous). At the alotted time we had to deliver our quick draw painting and the other works we had completed during the event and set up for judging. Steve Doherty, artist and editor of Plein Air Magazine was the judge. I didn't win any awards but it was cool to meet him and I learned a lot about my painting, and even a bit about myself as well.

Setting up for the judgement back up at the winery

Here I am happy and tired. The wind blew up a bunch of dirt on my paintings. I have managed to get most of it off of the two vineyard pieces, but the Buffalo Mountain one was painted really thickly and I don't think that stuff is going to budge. Oh well...that's plein air for you! It was good winery soil at least.

I came home to a messy house and a bunch of dirty laundry, but it was a fair trade for having had time off from mommy duties to do my thing for a whole weekend. (Thanks honey!) :-)

A Splash of Light on Howard Street

Aside from painting on my back patio, I really haven't done much plein air painting in my new town. Now that the heat seems to be letting up, I am aiming to change that. Here's a start. I see this scene during my morning walk/runs and have admired the fall of light as it spills across the shrubbery, taking center stage as the old Victorian sits austerely in the background.

"A Splash of Light on Howard Street" Oil on linen, 10x10" Contact me for more info!

Watching the Waves

Here is the last plein air painting I did at the beach last week. It was a quickie, started around 4:30 or so and wrapping up around 6PM. Watching the waves is one of my favorite things to do when I'm at the beach.

"Watching the Waves" Water miscible oils on linen, 8x8" To purchase, please contact me!

What is it about the ocean that calls us so? I guess it is the mystery of it. Or maybe it's the rhythm of the tides? Or maybe it's just that it is the place where we all originated, and it's depths are still unknown. My daughter once asked me, "When does the ocean stop waving?" Exactly! It never does, though it never ceases in changing either.

Incidentally, as I was painting this little vignette of our neighbor with her blue striped umbrella, I was photographed by Hidden Outer Banks!

Check them out. It was perhaps the one time when I actually didn't mind having a picture taken in my bathing suit. ;-)

Last Blush

I spent a really fun week visiting with my sister and her kids, so I've been a little silent here on the blog lately. I also find that I post so frequently to my Facebook page via mobile (and I've just started up with Instagram too) that I may miss an update or two on the blog. Silent no more! I  found myself pretty tired today, but since the hubs offered me a free morning of childcare so that I could paint, I couldn't pass it up. Once again,  I opted for a very short commute to the patio:

"Last Blush" Oil on Linen, 8x10" To purchase, please contact me!

I never know whether to call paintings like these a still life or a plein air painting. I guess they are both! This potted hydrangea is one I carried over from the old house. It is still hanging onto its blooms, but they are fading now, from a bright pink to more of a dusty rose. I went back to traditional oils for this piece, mainly because I still have quite a supply of them and I may need to save the water miscible variety for when I need to paint indoors.

During this painting session I tried out a new little gizmo I've had my eye on for a while. It is the Tiffen #1 black and white viewing filter.

The vendor product info states:

"Often called the "Director's" filter this hand held filter converts color scenes to shades of black and white. It allows the photographer to "see" the black and white contrast and tone before finalizing the exposure."

It's pretty neat because you can wear the thing around your neck and hold it up to your eye with the little handle so as not to smudge the glass. I found it useful to check my values with it, especially the dark passages. But I'm not sure about the highlights. They seemed to appear a bit duller when peering through the filter. I may justI have to get used to using it for a while. I will report back after I have had a chance to use it a little more, but I think it might be a fairly helpful tool to check the value relationships in my work during my process, especially if they are in question.

Delphiniums in the Rain

We are in the final push to put our current home on the market this week, so when I woke up this morning looking at the very gray sky and the mountain of work I had to do at home, I almost didn't go out to paint. Luckily my darling husband wouldn't hear of my excuses and practically kicked me out the door. ;-) I had been invited to paint with friends in this beautiful walled garden at a private turn-of-the-century residence tucked back in rolling hills near the banks of the James River. The drive up to the site was stunning in itself. Beautiful bucolic fields were lined with stately mature trees of all kinds. But it wasn't until I entered the garden past the roses and rounded a corner to take in this view that I audibly gasped. I remember my first thought when I saw this beautiful flower lined walkway was that I hoped I had brought the right blues.

"Delphiniums at Redesdale" Oil on panel, 12x9" Contact me for purchasing info!

I am told that this garden was designed by Charles Gillette, who is pretty famous around Virginia for his formal garden designs on stately homes such as Agecroft Hall, The Virginia House, and Tuckahoe Plantation. I believe he also had a hand in some of the early designs of the  Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens.

The rain fell softly off and on during this painting. Every once in a while sunlight and a bit of blue sky peeped through, but luckily not enough to "ruin" my cloudy day painting. At several points things got pretty soggy, and I found myself jostling my brushes, paper towels, and my painting umbrella, which I was using as a rain umbrella for myself, my painting, and my palette. But it all worked out in the end, so I guess that's what matters!

View from Libby Hill

Today I joined up with local members of the Mid Atlantic Plein  Air Painters Association (MAPAPA) for an urban paint out.  Not being able to paint lately has driven me a bit batty, so I was really looking forward to today. The paint site was Libby Hill Park, which has a nice panoramic view of the James River and some of the Richmond skyline. It was apparently this view that gave the City of Richmond its name. The story goes that William Byrd II is said to have thought that this view resembled the view of Richmond upon Thames in England.

View from Libby Hill, Richmond Oil on panel, 8x8" To purchase, please contact me!

It has been brilliantly sunny all week, but this morning we woke up to clouds and haze. I grumbled about it (which always does worlds of good in situations over which you have no control) but I went any way. I'm glad I did. The  haze did eventually burn off and now we have nice blue skies and sunshine. I had to leave around lunchtime so I could pick up my daughter from school, but I'm happy that at least I got one painting in today.

Daffodil Season

I'm back to work from spring break, and since it was such a beautiful day yesterday I decided to kick off the week with a little plein air painting at Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens. It is a great place to visit and paint! Tulips are everywhere right now, but there were a ton of people visiting yesterday. And since I had gotten a late start and needed to set up quickly,  I wanted to avoid setting up in high traffic  spots and those completely devoid of shade. So no tulips. However,  I found a lovely spot (with shade) in a quieter area of the gardens near the Bloomenthal House profuse with daffodils and pansies:

"Daffodil Season" Oil on panel, 8x10" Click here for more info. To purchase, please contact me!

It's pretty gray and rainy this morning, so I may need to re-photograph this when I have a bit more natural light. I had about an hour and a half to work on this painting, and then it was time to close up shop and pick up my daughter from preschool. But  was such a beautiful day in the gardens, that I returned with my daughter to share with her my enjoyment of this beautiful place.

Pear Squared!

Change is in the air. Nothing seems to change as fast in spring as the appearance of blooms on fruit trees. One minute they are ablaze with blooms, and the next they are leafing out. Here's a little ditty I did yesterday morning right from my own garden. Mine is largely a late spring/summer garden, but my neighbor shares a little early spring splendor from across the street:

"Pear, Squared" Oil on Panel, 8x8" Contact me to purchase!

It used to be really spectacular, almost cotton-ball like. Then a year or two ago a huge chunk either blew off in a  storm or it got struck by lightening. The top was split in two and I was so sad because I had always meant to paint it at this time of year and something always seemed to pop up to prevent me from getting to it before it leafed out. Any way, thankfully, it survived. And in spite of yet another very windy morning, I managed to get it down.

Spring Break

Yesterday I woke up to sunshine and blue skies. I had a sitter lined up to watch my daughter so it looked like a plein air painting kind of day. I was stoked. Fast forward to 9 a.m.ish at Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens, and me freezing my tuccus off trying to paint in gale-force winds. My first plein air of the season did not go well. Not only was it looking pretty dark and muddied, but at one point it landed face down in the dirt. In all honesty, it wasn't even worth it to pick off the debris. In fact the mulch may have improved it a little bit! "Well," I thought, "there's always this afternoon". Except there wasn't. My sitter called to cancel which meant I needed to close up shop. I felt pretty dejected. I arrived at preschool ready to assume Mommy duty as per usual. But as luck would have it my daughter and her BFF had conspired to arrange a play date at said BFF's house.

What a lucky break! I'd been granted a 2 hour reprieve, and I was not going to waste it. After dropping my daughter at her friend's house, I peeled away, tires screeching (kidding) and headed for home to get my gear. As I was pulling up to park, these forsythia caught my eye:

"3 o'Clock Glow Oil on panel, 8x8" To purchase, please contact me!

Though the wind whipped up around me and  I was still pretty chilled, the forsythia were beginning to take on a warm glow as the sun prepared itself for its inevitable descent behind the rooftops.

All is Quiet

Two more  days out of school this week due to snow, so I've had more wintry reference material at my disposal. I think after this much time indoors we are all going a little stir crazy, and things can be, well, crazy with an active preschooler,  from the time when my little angel wakes in the morning, until she lays her exhausted little head on the pillow once more at night. But since I am almost always the first person awake in the house in the mornings,  there are a few moments in the wee hours where I get to contemplate just how peaceful and beautiful the snow fall really is. There are no plows or tracks anywhere yet and the whole street is blanketed with pristine snow.

"All is Quiet" Oil on linen, 8x8" Contact me to purchase.

This is the view from our upstairs window, looking down our street and out over the rooftops. I've noted it a few times after it has snowed, and I always say to myself, "I really need to try painting that".  So I finally did. There was no brillian sunshine yet so the value range is not great, which made me enjoy the shapes and angles of the composition even more.

Holiday sale

I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday, full of family, friends, and fun! I am so thankful to all of my collectors and subscribers to my newsletter and blog!

Once you have had your fill of Thanksgiving dinner, please consider shopping for a special gift (at a special price) on my "holiday studio sale" page I have created on Etsy. These small original paintings are mostly local plein air studies and oil sketches, and therefore not marketed through retail galleries. Painted in the moment, they are fresh and lively and great gift sizes, either for yourself or someone special. This is a limited time offer, ending December 17th (just in time for Christmas!)

The Third Tee

Last week I finally got out to do a little plein air painting again. Since the leaves were pretty much at their peak, I decided to try a new location that would really feature the fall foliage. This is the golf course at the JLCC, where we have a pool membership:

"The Third Tee" Oil on Birch Panel, 8x10

I am not a golfer, but I am told it is the 3rd Tee. We would often looked down at this lovely view in the summer while having a light dinner by the kiddie pool. It's a great dining spot in the good weather. We get to relax and take in this great view at sunset, while our daughter splashes around and plays.

It was fun to return in a different season, with a different vibe altogether (very peaceful!) This pond actually backs up to the Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens, where I've also frequented for local plein air excursions. So along with the occasional golfer, there were plenty of water fowl and songbirds to keep me company.

Varenna mini gouache study

Thought I'd do a little experimenting with this fun little 5x6" study in gouache.

Colors of Varenna (study) Gouache on Cottonwood Arts Coldpress paper, 5x6"

Here I'm just trying to get an idea about my lights and shadows and the basic shapes, so I've not much detail. For this composition I experimented with using a compositional grid that we studied during Kevin Macpherson's workshop (you can probably make out some of it in pencil beneath the gouache. I mentioned it briefly in my last post, but basically this is a method to achieve an informal subdivision of space, as discussed in Andrew Loomis' book called Creative Illustration:

After I learned more about this "grid thing", I realized that I had often been using this kind of subdivision intuitively. But it is good to have a tool handy to be more deliberate about it when one wants to, or if you are dealing with a complicated subject and are trying to decide what to leave in, what to edit out, and how to arrange a painting for the most pleasing effects.

It's been a while since I have worked with gouache and had forgotten that the colors shift a bit when they dry. Nevertheless I had a good time and really look forward to working with them again.

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.

Morning Wash, Venice

We have been prepping for a kitchen remodel these last few weeks, so this little studio piece of Venice has been patiently waiting on the "back burner" (pun intended.) Today I got so tired of seeing its mournful state of incompleteness on my easel that I attacked it with the brush. Here is the result:

"Morning Wash", Venice Oil on Linen, 16x12"    I remember the day I and my traveling companion were taking photos of this little neighborhood. It was our first morning in Venice and we had spent it pretty much as nearly every American tourist does, snapping away with our cameras and ooh-ing and ahh-ing over every nook and cranny of the place. Then we turned the corner and, almost against my will, I blurted out, "Oooh, laundry!" My friend laughed, and of course, I realized immediately how silly that sounded. But to an artist, it has the potential to add both visual interest and an element of the human presence, even on an otherwise empty street. It's a mystery to me how the Italians can make even clothes hanging on a line an intrigue. But I guess it doesn't hurt that those clotheslines are surrounded by beautiful ochre stone, magnificent architecture and, I suspect, a little bit of magic too.

P.S. If you're wondering what happened to the still life I had started  in my last post, I gave it the 86. I will try again at some point, but I think I was  little overly ambitious with the size given my limited time. The flowers croaked before I could get them down, so I had to just chalk it up to one of the ones that got away.

Full Moon Nocturne

I painted this little nocturne from my screened porch during a recent full moon.

"Four Square on a Full Moon" Oil on Panel, 10x8" Click here for more info, or contact me to purchase!

This is my neighbor's house. I see this house every morning when I pour my coffee, and every evening in the milder seasons when I sit out on the porch after putting my daughter to bed.   There's nothing particularly fancy about this house. It's one of many classic American four squares we have in the neighborhood. But I like it's austerity. You can't really tell in this painting but it's white stucco. I love the light that shines on it in the morning, too. The soft glow of the morning sun gives it a kind of weathered luster.

I wasn't sure if I would post this piece, as the composition is so dead on and simple. I actually imagined I would zoom out a bit more on this composition, but just having a small shop light on my work space,  I had to work very close in to see what the heck I was doing. That's the way with nocturnes; you never truly know what you're going to get until you bring it into the light of day! Nevertheless, it's grown on me, so I decided to share it here.

p.s. Almost finished with the large painting of the Hatteras Dunes. Progress shots and (hopefully) the final to come soon.

Progress on the large Hatteras painting

Here are a few progress shots on the Hatteras Island Dunes painting I last blogged about:

Though I am trying hard to address the picture as a whole, it is some kind of work just getting the canvas covered. I have been painting pretty small lately so I am kind of shocked at the amount of paint I'm mixing and using. I think this is especially true because I'm not used to using such an absorbent surface.

In the process of working solely from my painted studies, I've noticed that one of the main reasons I love the smaller alla prima pieces is the amount of broken color in the painting. Color is laid next to color, sometimes within the same stroke, and brush strokes aren't overly licked or blended. The result is that you can achieve a really fresh look with the little ones. It's not impossible to do this with the larger paintings, but you do have to really work wet-into-wet the whole time, and start loading on the paint to get that kind of effect. To have that kind of expectation with a painting of this size may very well be an exercise in futility, especially since I am not able to paint on it every day. On the other hand it is really impossible to replicate stroke-for-stroke what I have done in the smaller studies, as the brush size-to-canvas ratio would mean I'd likely have to turn to using house paint brushes!

So with these "reality checks" in mind, I am still striving to capture that fresh, breezy, beachy essence, even if the nature of this beast is very different from the original. I find myself working more background to foreground on the bigger paintings (rather than strictly dark to light) in order to keep the paint surface workable. Nevertheless, I am saving most of the lightest highlights toward the end because they are the most opaque and have the thickest application.

Spontaneity

Here's a little plein air I did a couple of weeks ago, before our most recent beach trip. This view is just around the corner from me. It shows another side of the Bellevue neighborhood; a little less neat-as-a-pin, and a little more unkempt and funky, but still with that spontaneous burst of color.

"Splash of Color" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x8"

The Crape Myrtles are still hanging on.  I hope I can get out a few more times to paint before they fade completely.

There are some benefits to time limits, but I think one of the biggest challenges to working with them is deciding how much of it to commit to R&D (research and development) and how much to commit to production end product. Of course with art, there is plenty of overlap, but I still consider my plein air painting time R&D. That doesn't mean that many aren't "frame worthy", but they are small and spontaneous and not all of them are completed statements. This is good because it allows me a certain freedom in my approach, with less deliberation and concern for the end result and more for the process and just really studying light effects, color temperature, values, and textures.

However, studio paintings are still paramount to my work, and at some point I need to get  some larger pieces done,  no matter how much the great outdoors may call me.  My goal with all of this is to see how well I can carry over the spontaneity and that feeling of the light from my field work into a more complete statement with my larger studio pieces. In terms of subject matter, they may not always seem to relate all that much, but for me the two disciplines are very interdependent.

Back at the beach

First I forgot the white paint. Then, there were the fire ants. Next came the wind. "Why exactly do I do this?" I'm thinking to myself. But then I saw the Jolly Roger flapping in the breeze, and I was hooked. So I held on to my hat (and easel) and set to work.

This little 8x8" oil was done from our gazebo on the Outer Banks Dunes, looking out at the neighboring gazebos. The clouds were what attracted me but the Jolly Roger flag was a fun little detail that sealed the deal.

The Crape on the Corner

I've long admired this pretty crape myrtle on my summer morning walks in my Bellevue neighborhood, so I decided to pay it a little tribute today:

"The Crape on the Corner" 8x10", Oil on Panel Contact me to purchase!

When we see Crape Myrtles blooming in Richmond, we pretty much know summer is here to stay a while. And if the heat isn't already upon us, it  is sure to quickly follow. Yes, folks, it was definitely hot out there! This painting pretty much demanded some Permanent Rose, which (of course) wasn't among the supplies I packed. I suppose I could have gotten by with Alizarin, but it wouldn't have been the same. There are definitely advantages to painting in my neighborhood; my studio (and agreeable husband) were just a couple of blocks away.