Painting a Rainy Day

"Rain or Shine?", 8x10", oil on gessoed panel

"Woodland Path", 8x8", oil on gessoed panel

This past Saturday, I awoke to a torrential downpour, lightening and thunder outside. With only one eye open I was sorely tempted to roll over and play dead. However, after having been sick with a virus for over a week and a bad case of cabin fever I determined to struggle up out of sleep and dress for painting out-of-doors.

I'm a member of the Great Lakes Plein Air Painters Assn. better known to its members as G.L. PAPA. The all day event was scheduled at Sleepy Hollow State Park about a 40 minute drive from my home. I decided, due to the weather, to at least enjoy the drive up and back if nothing more. After downing a quick breakfast I headed out. The weather was so awful that I was convinced I would be the only one crazy enough to make the effort. Much to my surprise I found six other painters at the park who also shared a desire to paint. With no other option, we began painting from inside our cars and were finally able to migrate outside about an hour into our day. After a very damp, cold morning we broke at noon for fellowship and a hot lunch of grilled brats and salads provided by a couple of members. One of them were organized enough to bring a spouse along who likes to grill. It doesn't get better than that.

The two studies above were the result of a good dose of determination and no matter how wet, the inspiration of Michigan's early fall color. One was finished on site and the second touched up at home later. All in all, a fine day...if not a bit damp.

Perils of Plein Air Painting: Hee Haw Round-up!

I awoke yesterday morning with anticipation of a peaceful day outdoors painting en plein air. The night before I had planned on a site at a nearby farm where the view was pastoral, quiet and angled correctly for the early morning light.

Still not fully awake, I drove into the farm yard with coffee in hand and was greeted by six free-roaming donkeys. I parked and eased out of the car so as not to frighten them off and went in search of someone to get them back into a pen. I checked the house and several barns only to find that I was alone. Not even a friendly dog in sight....just donkeys. Each of the nearby fenced enclosures had either cattle in it or more donkeys and all visible gates were closed.

It was clear that I was going to have a problem trying to get the six donkeys into an enclosure without other animals getting out. If you've ever tried to herd animals into an enclosure you know it's almost impossible to do so alone if there are already other animals in the pen. Where one roams free they all want to roam free. I could see the writing on the wall and knew there was a strong likelihood that I was not going to be painting the early morning light as planned.

I tried calling the owner on his cell phone, the only number I had. All I got was a message that said "...thank you for calling. Please leave your number and I will return your call as soon as possible". Great! I left a jumbled message and hoped that he'd show up soon. In the meantime, the donkeys were on the move.

I don't know a lot about donkeys, but I found out three things mighty fast. First, for being such small animals they can move remarkably fast. A LOT faster than this artist. Secondly, they have a mind of their own (they don't care for or listen to strangers). Third, they don't respond to "here, donkey, donkey, donkey", "cluck, cluck, cluck" or "tch, tch, tch"...it was clear I didn't know any magic words. Well! What to do now?

After 20 minutes of racing back and forth, fancy footwork and sweet talking, I finally got one donkey in a pen. Unfortunately, "my" donkey was not particularly well received by the current residents. After a lot of braying, kicking, biting, etc. he ended up in one corner of the pen and the others in the opposite corner...all with ears back (unfriendly sort of...not unlike boxers after a grisly round of fighting. I was now down to five free-roaming donkeys. Roughly figuring, if I allotted 20 minutes per donkey, things were not looking good, and still no help in sight.

It was at this point my charges (notice that they have become "mine") decided to head down the lane at full speed headed for a busy side road. Having a bad foot, I didn't even try to keep up. I jumped into my car and the race was on. Would I be able to catch up, make it past the donkeys, and turn them before they made the road or not? I gripped the wheel and drove like a mad woman with stones flying as my tires bounced over the uneven stony ground. Luckily I was able to outdistance the herd just short of the road and turned them (doesn't this sound like a movie plot?) back the way they had come.

The only good thing I could find about this morning was the fact that donkeys are herd animals and are not inclined to separate from each other. I can't even imagine the scenario of them going off in five different directions. Horrors! Returning back up the lane, they stopped short of the barn to graze on a grassy knoll. Leaving well enough alone, I prudently decided to stay in the car and watch them while I explored my options. It was with welcome relief, that about 10 minutes later, the owner and his wife showed up and the three of us herded the five donkeys into a pen. Hee Haw! Round-up completed in just under an hour of high jinx.

For more "Perils of Plein Air Painting" stories be sure to see posts at right for March, 2010.

The Advantage of Light

"Emergence of Spring", 12x16", oil on canvas

Last week, a friend commented that the area we were painting would be quite "spectacular later in the season when there is some color". Her comment surprised me as, I must say, for weeks, I've been quite happy painting at this and other nearby locations and never considered them to be anything but colorful. Later, looking at the small study I did that day between 11 AM and just after the noon hour it was brought home to me that the light was probably the reason for her comment.

Today, from a hillside, I painted "Emergence of Spring" (above) of the marsh below, filled with last year's grasses and dormant bushes and trees. This was a similar environment to last week's site. Was the landscape devoid of rich color? Not at all, as this painting testifies. However, there was a difference between the two painting sessions. Instead of the mid-day light we had last week, I painted "Emergence of Spring" today between 4:00 and 6 PM when the sun is low on the horizon and casting a golden glow on all it touches.

As anyone knows who paints outdoors from life mid-day light tends to flatten shapes and wash out color. As a seasoned plein air painter, I've developed two options that work for me when forced to work the so called, "noon day shift". First, to help eliminate that flat washed out look I face into the sun, as much as possible, to create a sense of back lighting and form, or if that's not possible, I'll very slightly heighten visible colors to create more temperature contrast. While not ideal, these options help an otherwise lack luster middle-of-the-day lighting situation.

Artists who, for what ever reason, elect not to paint the early morning or late afternoon light do themselves a serious injustice. If just once, they would work early or late they would be amazed at the difference the light makes in their work. They would never want to paint mid-day again.

A Last Hurrah of Winter?

"Snow Tracks", 8x10 plein air,
oil on panel

We've had a remarkable run of good weather in Michigan. For more than a week the days have been warm and sunny with snow remaining on the ground. This weather condition has been key to Mother Nature providing phenomenal abstract shapes for our enjoyment and material for artists to capture.

During this time, I've been busy in the studio working on several commissions but have made it a point to head out to my favorite location to paint en plein air from 4:00 PM until sunset each day. Being familiar with the area I usually have a feel for what I might want to paint before arriving which cuts down on set-up time. I get right into it and paint until just before 6 PM then stow my gear and wet canvas in the car. Then, with camera in hand, I enjoy the next one-half hour of the most extraordinary light imaginable.

The conditions have been remarkable. I'm not a scientist so have no idea what the official explanation would be but it must have something to do with the low trajectory of a very warm sun on moisture laden air and snow. It's at times like this that I wish every student I've ever had who has said, "I don't see all those colors you put in your snow", was with me. In these brief unique sunny days the snow has been a kaleidoscope of color. Strange colors have even shown on other objects as well as I was able to record below. Note the turquoise fence shadow on the side of the barn. This is accurate and has not been digitally altered. Unbelievable!

Perils of Plein Air Painting: Where the Buffalo Roam

In an earlier "Perils of Plein Air Painting" I related my experience with a stalking bull. I'll compound that singular episode with this tale which includes a whole herd of bison. It seems I have a penchant for hoofed animals.

In the late 1990's I was privileged to go on an 18 day painting trip in the west with three artist friends that included painting in the Grand Teton N.P. We traveled west from Michigan in a relatively new Subaru loaded heavily with painting gear and very light on personal effects. We were crowded but happy as we looked forward to our grand adventure. One day, we were painting along Mormon Row in the park, a dirt road where a few abandoned historical farms are back dropped by the Teton Mountains. We'd been painting for sometime in an open area and, needing a break, I volunteered to take the car and drive approximately 5 miles back to the Visitor's Center for refreshments for everyone. This done I started back to the group only to find, as they came into view 3/4 of a mile away, a herd of about 20 free roaming buffalo headed straight for them. Realizing their peril, I gunned the motor on the car not sure if I could reach my friends before the buffalo did. Stones flew as I drove like a mad woman along that road. It should be noted here that such big animals cover a considerable distance quickly even when walking. Don't ever let their girth and short legs fool you.

I literally reached my friends just as the first cow reached the road opposite them. The gals were backed up as far as they could go against some brushy saplings and an old rickety wire fence. With the car between the bison and my friends, they piled in with arms and legs flying, leaving all our gear outside. I quickly moved the car down the road a bit giving the buffalo plenty of room.

Laughing somewhat hysterically with relief we watched the herd checking out our easels and overturned chairs. Somewhere we have a photo of a cow with her nose in my painting smelling the wet paint. Apparently finding nothing to be anxious about they left everything in good shape and slowly moved off headed for their destination, on our side of the road, a lush grassy park.

We returned to our gear, finished our paintings and packed up the car. The afternoon was early so instead of turning and heading back towards pavement, we decided to do some exploring and continued further down the road. We were to find this was an unfortunate choice.

The road ends at the last farm house next to a large wilderness area. We drove into a turn around and discovered that a second wave of bison were following us down the road. This group of about 30 bison had blocked the road from side to side. We backed up into the front yard of the abandoned farmhouse next to a tall bush and rusty windmill to await their passing.

Just then, a ranger driving a truck seemingly came from nowhere and made an attempt to ease through the herd. He wisely gave up the idea turned around and went back the way he'd come. The four of us looked at each other and said, "great!". To our dismay, the herd turned towards the farmhouse where we had taken refuge. Things were definitely not shaping up in our favor. We were cut off and totally surrounded by huge hairy beasts. If you've ever had such an experience you can appreciate how small you feel in a compact car when you are looking directly into the eyes of enormous wild beasts that could conceivably turn your car over if they decided they didn't like you. We very much wanted them to like us.

At this time, I had a cell phone conversation with my elderly parents back in Michigan. My Dad was delighted to hear about our predicament. He always did have a weird sense of what was "fun". Laughing, he said, "I hope they don't bed down to chew their cud, you might be there for a few hours". As I was the driver, I didn't dare look at the others. I was sure by this time they hated me and if looks could have done it I'd be dead. Somehow, the fault of this day was becoming solely mine.

That day I learned several things that I didn't know before. First, I developed a greater appreciation for how zoo animals must feel with people looking at them in their cages. Second, I was shocked to see a cow buffalo lift her front legs and sail over a four foot fence as easily as an agile deer. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself that an animal that big could become so easily and gracefully airborne. Obviously, a fence is no protection when buffalo are on the move.

Switching to Right Brain Activity

"Where did my right brain go?"

This week I heard several of my students bemoan the fact that it's hard to gear up for a creative session when they've been totally immersed with life's problems all day or they have suffered from a creative block. I have a solution to these problems and it is to develop a quick and easy personal trigger that can be called upon as needed to switch your mind from left to right whenever you want to become creative.

As a professional artist I don't have the luxury of painting only when I am in the mood. I have to fit my painting time into the nooks and crannies surrounding my work schedule. Because art is important to me I want to maximize the time I do have to study and perform at my peak. It's essential that I come to the easel fresh and ready to paint and cannot afford to worry about my "mood" or what's happening outside the studio. How do I do that?

First and most important, I go to my studio, sit down, making myself comfortable, and then.....

1) with pen in hand I fill a sheet of paper from left to right, line by line, with words as they pop into my mind. I allow no sentence structure or punctuation. I write as fast as I can to fill the page (time about 5 minutes), or

2) work on several reverse imaging exercises to achieve mind, eye, and hand coordination (time about 10 minutes), or

3) (my favorite) view a slide show on my laptop computer of favorite paintings that I've collected. This not only activates right side thinking but also relaxes and inspires me (time about 8 min.).

My images are of photos I've taken of favorite paintings from the permanent collection of the Detroit Institute of Art (always check with a museum to make sure you can photograph their permanent collection). Take a little time to crop and coordinate the images into a pleasing sequence then hit the slide show button. I have enough images that my slide show runs for about 8 minutes. By the time it has run its course I am usually hooked and good to go. If I happen to be a hard core case on any given day then I may have to view it more than once.

Notice in all three of my triggers I am not problem solving. I shy away from activities such as sorting photographs to work from as that requires my logical brain to be running, I'm not flipping through an art book where I can get caught up in reading and analyzing (logical) the artists written information, etc. I am doing visual cuing, in a relaxed mental state, that forces the brain to switch modes.

Since I began using #3 above I have had enormous success in switching gears. No matter how dicey life gets outside the studio I can feel serene and creative in just a matter of minutes.

Dealing with a creative blocks are a bit more difficult. In short, one must go back to the basics and paint simple things. More on that later....

1, Feb. 2010: Morning Plein Air

The trees in our backyard were tipped with frost this morning and the sun was rising through thin clouds giving a pinkish glow to the sky. I hurried into my outdoor clothing, loaded the car with fresh canvas, paints, etc. and was off.

My usual haunts were still in shadow when I arrived at the farm so I decided to drive around the property a bit looking for other subject matter. The field study above is the result. I was especially taken by the contrasts between the russet orange in the subject tree (left center) and grasses vs. the dark purply-blue background trees. I have always had trouble trying to establish just the right color note for those background trees at this time of the morning. They seem to hover around several color notes without ever becoming identifiable with any single color.

I was pleased with the resulting sketch and finished the morning off with a short hike, hot chocolate from my thermos, and a feeling of well being. It's good to be alive on a 20 degree plus morning in Michigan.

Plein air in the Winter? Are you Kidding?

I love painting outdoors in the winter. There is a certain hush that lays upon the snow covered earth that is not evident at any other time of year. The air is clean, fresh and beckoning. Whether sunny or overcast, a snow laden landscape offers exciting natural abstract shapes and color contrasts, and for those who love to paint the subtle variations of white it cannot be surpassed. Winter is an exciting and fascinating season to capture on canvas.

Of course, you always have the option of painting from inside your car where you have all the comforts of home, ie: heat, music, etc. However, you'll miss the sound of snow, the quality of the air and the space around you that is so beautiful at this time of year.

When I encourage students to try winter plein air it's not the subject but the cold that receives negative responses like, "...are you kidding? You paint in your car, right?" It's usually the gals, who tend to wear fashion outer clothing not designed for standing in cold temperatures for hours, who are my most vocal skeptics. The answer then to enjoying outdoor painting lies not in a lack of enthusiasm for winter but a lack of knowledge in how to dress properly for comfort and warmth.

When I go out to paint I don't worry about pretty...I worry about warmth. If it's 32 degrees I layer my clothing for at least "0" degree weather. When you're standing still for a long period of time the cold will seep in so over-dressing makes sense. Below are the layers I use.

INNER WEAR

Layer #1: Long underwear and liner socks made of silks reduces bulk and wick moisture away from the body.

Layer #2: Warm pants or those lined w/ flannel plus a turtle neck cotton top and 1 pair of wool socks.

Layer #3: Lightweight wool sweater or velour top that buttons down the front so it can be opened if the body becomes overheated.

Layer #4: Quilted, button down the front, outdoor vest with a stand up neck collar.

OUTER WEAR

Warm coat that covers the fanny and has deep pockets

2 pairs of stretchy gloves (buy in any store for 99 cents a pair). Doubled up these are thin and do not hamper finger movement or brush holding but keep the fingers warm.

Warm hat with ear flaps and a small brim to keep sky light out of eyes.

Wool scarf worn tied around neck and crossed over the chest under the coat.

Boots with felt liners that are designed for 20 degrees below zero or better. This is not the time for fashion or shoeboots. Cold feet will send you home faster than anything.

IMPORTANT EXTRAS

Warmers available in sporting goods departments or stores. A pair of hand warmers (one for each pocket), one pair foot warmers for inside the boots, and 1 body warmer which sticks to the back of long underwear just below the neckline where the body loses most of its heat.

This may seem like a lot of clothing but today's miracle fabrics keep the bulk to a minimum and the body wicked and warm. If the hands get chilled simply put them in a coat pocket with a hand warmer for a few minutes and they'll be toasty and good to go again in short order.

If possible, I usually set up somewhere close to my car where I keep a thermos of hot tea and one of chicken noodle soup for my lunch available. Their warmth tastes mighty good and warms me up inside if all else fails and I get chilled. However, dressed this way, I'm good to go for a number of hours.

WHAT DO I DO ABOUT MY PAINTS?

I've found that I can easily paint outdoors with my oils in weather as cold as 10 degrees above zero. If it becomes stiff I add a touch of Liquin to my paints as I mix them. In this way, my paint is just a little juicier than when applied in the studio. The paint stays workable long enough that I am able to adjust edges throughout the length of the painting session. I know other artists who add a small drop of extra linseed oil to the piles of paint on the palette prior to mixing.

This seems like a lot of clothing but it really isn't and it holds your comfort level for a long time. If you have ideas on dressing for cold weather painting or how to control the viscosity of oils please feel free to offer your suggestions.