Listening

For the past two weeks I have been struggling with three different pastels, each very different from the other other but all of them giving me fits.  One is nearly done but not quite there.  The other I may give up on, it's been wiped down twice already.  And then there is this one.

Drifting Fenceline 9x12 pastel, copyright 2013

It started out as a painting of a plowed field, snow covering the furrows in rows behind one lone fencepost.  It works quite nicely as a photo.  But those nice neat little rows did not want to work in a painting.  First the perspective was wrong.  Then the shadows.  Then the color.  The pastel layers kept getting thicker and thicker until I finally realized I was just making mud - or perhaps slush would be a more appropriate term.

Last night I finally gave in, wiped the snow off completely and started over.  It just did not want to be a plowed field, and I'm slowly starting to learn to "listen" to my paintings.   They want to be painted, but they sometimes seem to have their own opinion about what they want to say.  And this one was reminding me to simplify - so that's what I did.

Snowy farmstead

Snowed In 12x9 pastel, copyright 2013

Though long gone, it seems there is still plenty of inspiration to be found in the snow.  The reference photo was a drive-by on my way to pick up some paintings in Sidney.  It was not a very good photo and included reflections in the window and some of the car door, but it was good enough for a starting point.  From that it was mostly a matter of being confident enough to trust to "artistic license".

Fresh eyes

Breaking Through the Clouds 9x12 pastel, copyright 2012

Sometime working in a home studio is a bit isolating.  Being surrounded by fellow artists can offer unexpected insights as well as lively discussion on color theory, perspective, art history... all the technical details of what goes into a painting.  But sometime the technicalities and techniques can bog you down, especially when the only insight you really need is, does it look right?

Despite his protestations of "I'm not an artist", I have managed to convince my husband that his insights are quite helpful.  With this painting, he pointed out that it looked much better when the large, closer tree was more defined.  There are reasons for this having to do with perspective and line and depth; the simple truth is, he was right and it does look better.  Sometimes all it takes is fresh eyes.

Back to landscapes

Silos 9x12 pastel, copyright 2012

The right lighting can make just about anything interesting, even something as ordinary as grain silos.  Spotted from the road on the way home from Oxford after a football game, this grouping was catching the sun in just the right way.  

One of the challenges of painting metallic objects is "bounced" color.  Bounced color refers to the color that objects reflect onto one another.  It is not a true reflection but more about how the color and light of objects in close vicinity affect each others' appearance.  It's more obvious in more reflective objects such as metal and glass, but it happens on others as well.  For a good discussion on how artists can address bounced color, check out this post by Canadian artist Gaye Adams.

On a more personal note, I've found that the break from landscapes has been an excellent refresher.  I was getting a bit bogged down and frustrated, and starting to have doubts about whether my work was truly unique and worthwhile.  After all, there are a lot of landscape painters out there.  But stepping back helped remind of what I find most attractive about painting - capturing those fleeting moments when bright light and warm color and deep shadow come together to create a "luminous brightscape".  I think the description fits my work, and that is where I need to focus myself.

Autumn creek

Along the Creek, Late November 12x9 pastel, copyright 2012

Not surprisingly, it didn't take long before I returned to pastel landscapes.  This one wasn't really planned, but the weather was so perfect last week that I decided to wander down to the creek and see what I could see.  A couple of tree trunks that had piled up during last spring's flood served as both seat and easel.   It took about an hour to work it out and the details were finished later in the studio.  I might play with it a bit more, perhaps eliminating the grasses since they feel a bit distracting to me.  It can be difficult to filter out what's unnecessary when working plein air - there can be too much too look at sometimes, though I certainly can't complain about the view.

A judgement call

Brownstone with Geraniums 8x10 oil, copyright 2010

SOLD!

Don't forget, the Red Cross fundraiser is still on.  So far I have three bids for my New York City Brownstone painting, let's see if we can keep it going!  You have until November 8 to help out this great cause.

Morning Drive 9x12 pastel, copyright 2012

Just how subjective is art?  After a few touch ups, last month I entered this pastel in two different shows - and was rejected from one and received a Special Recognition award in the other.  Go figure.

The first was the Richmond Art Museum.  This is a very competitive regional exhibit that I have tried and failed to get into before.  They have an open judging that I went to for the first time, a truly hand wringing experience.  There were at least 300 pieces being judged, many of them by well established artists, so the competition was quite stiff.  I managed to get through the first round but was then rejected in the second.  That was frustrating but at least the other artists were both supportive and sympathetic.  

The second was Light Space Time, a well established online gallery with monthly, international exhibits.  This time there were about 450 pieces and although I didn't win a top award I was part of a group that received special recognition and ended up on page 33 of the online catalogue.  I still feel like this is one of my better pieces so I will try for a few more shows - there is a local landscape show this spring that I might finally get into.

Rural route

Morning Mail 12x9 pastel, copyright 2012

In the weeks before the leaves started turning gold, there were dramatic swings in the temperature - cool nights and warm days - which meant foggy mornings.  Not far from our house there are old trees and carefully manicured lawns along one side of the road and brush and weeds on the other before it opens up to pasture.  The morning I took this reference photo the sun was just starting to break up the fog, filtering through the leaves along the road.  I haven't quite figured out how to capture fog in pastels without making a smudgy mess, but I think I caught the early morning light here.

A few weeks later there was a phenomenon I had never seen before.  Everything was covered in light frost, even the tops of the trees.  As the sun came up and evaporated the frost, it turned to fog at the tops of those trees, looking like smoke as wisps trailed into the clear blue sky.  Then slowly it sank down into the fields as the sun rose, becoming very dense at ground level and burning off in the sunlight after only half an hour.  It was beautiful sight, one that made me grateful to be living in the country.

Playing with paper

Fields at Dusk, 8 1/2x11 pastel, copyright 2012

Dairy Barn, Evening Sky 8 1/2x11 pastel, copyright 2012

Thanks to a post by pastelist Karen Margulis (check out her work - she's very good!) I have discovered a new pastel paper called Shizan.  It's handmade 100% cotton rag made from recycled material and is quite reasonably priced.  The texture is irregular, as are the edges and sometimes the size.  

With the first one I quickly discovered that it won't hold many layers, and vine charcoal does not work at all.  That was a bit frustrating, although it does make for a sort of vague, sketchy painting.  On the second one I added a single thin layer of pastel primer, which gave it enough tooth to hold more layers.  The texture and color of the paper still come through and force looser, sketchier images.  That's a good thing since I usually feel that my looser paintings are better.

Both of these paintings are from reference photos taken a few weeks ago when my husband was kind enough to drive me around just before sunset.  A native of the area, he chose the route down a winding, quiet road that ended at closed bridge (and haunted) bridge.   It was a beautiful drive, and I was able to get plenty of good photos that will hopefully find their way onto this new paper.

Morning View

Remnants of an Early Morning Storm 9x12 pastel, copyright 2012

The weather has been a bit crazy all year, and this week was no exception.  Saturday we sat bundled up in cold, cold rain until the soccer game we were watching was cancelled due to lightening.  By Monday I was reading a book outside in short sleeves.  The storms have been coming a bit more frequently and the wild swings in temperature have been making life interesting.

One such storm came during the night, breaking apart by morning.  Our neighbors have a small wetland area that often gathers fog, and morning views can be quite dramatic.  This painting is what my daughter and I saw the other day as we waited on the bus.

Morning snow

Light Snow, Bright Morning 12x9 pastel, copyright 2012

It's hard to believe given the unusually warm weather we are experiencing now, but two weeks ago we woke up to a bit of a surprise: an overnight snow.  It was only and inch and was gone by midmorning, but it is the most significant snowfall we've had this winter.  Naturally I grabbed my camera and walked around a bit after the kids got on the bus.

Watching the light slowly creep over the trees and chase back the shadows has become a highlight of my morning, a justification for getting up before the sun.  While I can see this happening from my kitchen window, I realized that morning that I've never watched it in this particular field, which is in the floodplain of the creek and completely surrounded by trees.  It can't be seen from the road, making it almost a secret space, a little hidden surprise at the end of the lane.

Making it work

Slow Decline 12x16 pastel, copyright 2012

My hair is probably a bit thinner after this one.  It was an incredibly frustrating piece, and was nearly tossed out on several occasions.  At one point everything except the barns was erased.  A big part of the problem was that I neglected to do a smaller study first and ended up putting the barn in the wrong spot to make a good composition.  And the sky was a boring, almost solid blue.  And the shadow in front of the barns was a boring blob of dark.  The barn was only interesting thing about it, and I seriously considered cropping to eliminate the rest.

But after erasing, walking away, and spending time flipping through art books and looking at other people's work on the web, I decided it could be salvaged.  Puddles of water and hints of a fence line and drive helped the foreground, along with lots of texture.  More color and diagonal clouds made the sky much better, and distant hills added depth.

Although this is based on a barn about five miles from my house here in the midwest, it somehow ended up with more of a western feel.  I think that might be due to the lack of green in the grasses and lack of trees in the distant background.  Funny how a painting sometimes goes off in an unexpected direction.  I'm glad I stuck it out.

October fields

October Fields 12x16 pastel, copyright 2012

Corn and soybeans are the most commonly planted crops in my area, and most farmers rotate their fields yearly between the two.  Corn is more interesting in midsummer, when the long leaves are dark green, topped by pale yellow tassels.  But in the fall, soybeans have them beat.  The leaves on the plants turn bright yellow before they fall off and the remaining stems and seed pods are wonderful shades of warm brown.

I noticed these fields along Twin Creek about five miles north of our house, on a bright October day last year.  There was actually quite a bit more going on in the photograph, with trees along the road and shadows and weeds on the fence line.  The bottom right hand corner got quite complicated - and very distracting.  An eraser solved that problem, and put the emphasis back on the yellow soybeans where it should be.  I have to keep reminding myself that photos are to be used as guidelines only.