eibhlin – Page 4 – eibhlin, artist

Sunset – Sunrise Paintings

As an artist, this is interesting. I feel as if I’m finding my personal voice in terms of influences: Impressionism v. Tonalist & Luminist art. (Those links open in a new window and take you to Wikipedia.)

For me, Impressionism includes apparently disconnected colors & textures (at least, up close) that create the visual and emotional impression of the scene.

Tonalism is less about color and more about misty, foggy, or mostly-dark scenery and (often) a glassy surface to the finished work.

In many cases, both styles are best viewed from a distance of 20 feet or more. That almost always applies to my paintings.

Luminism — which came before Impressionism — is more about the glow, and it’s currently a leading influence in all of my work. (See work by James Augustus Suydam for the glow I’m talking about, and Sunlight and Shadow by Martin Johnson Heade for the colors.)

I also keep revisiting the images from the Like Breath on Glass exhibit, and the audio tour (with images) that’s online. There’s something wonderfully rich but also eerie about many of the paintings. For me, they’re compelling and hauntingly lovely.

So, I’m experimenting with different painting styles, pushing my limits and then absorbing what I learn from each experience.

The painting shown above is this morning’s sunrise study. It shows a fleeting moment and the rapidly changing skies. The original is 9″ x 12″ on canvas board.

At right is a detail from the painting. That’s about a one-inch section of the canvas, from top to bottom.

I think I’m moving away from harsh edges, though many of my sketches will — by necessity of the time available — look somewhat sloppy and ragged. For me, capturing the light & color at the moment I see it is key. The urgency in those works is clear, and has its own merits in terms of visual and emotional energy.

Many of those quick sketches will be resources for later, larger, more Luminist works.

Last night, I’d worked after dark, creating a color study inspired by the sunset. As usual, I was challenged by artificial light (v. painting in the dark) and — when I saw the painting this morning — I wasn’t satisfied with it.

That’s it at left, after I worked on it this morning. Fortunately, minor tweaks restored the creative vision that had sparked the work.

I feel as if I’m finding the middle ground (no pun intended) between soft edges and color contrasts.

I’m not entirely sure where this is going, but I’m pleased with my progress.

And, of course, I woke up in the middle of the night with an idea for an abstract painting… and had to sketch it immediately, with notes.

In other words, my art is still a juggling act with a variety of inspirations and influences.

I’m not sure that I’d want it any other way.

Spring 2010 – Revisited

Sometimes I look at an older painting and it’s lacking something. Oh, it’s often “nice enough,” but… well, that’s not enough for me unless it was just a quick sketch.

My March 2010 painting, Spring is on the way, was like that. It just didn’t have the oomph that I wanted; that may be partly because it was a difficult week for my family. Sometimes I paint just to keep busy while I’m processing challenges in my life. When I’m not fully committed to the art, particularly in terms of my emotions, the finished work can seem a little lackluster.

Also, I’ve learned a lot about color and technique since then.

Anyway, feeling very pleased with the improvements in Orange Hills, Revisited, I decided to improve the spring painting as well. That’s the finished version, above.

Much of the work involved bringing the colors forward, and softening the areas that weren’t well-defined. Sometimes when I keep fussing with part of a painting, the area doesn’t emerge clearly and the busy-ness of it detracts from the finished work.

That’s what happened with the previous version of this painting.

This week, I was reminded of when I studied art with Larry Gluck, and he’d talk about turning paintings into “little gems.” That’s what I was doing with this canvas. (And yes, it is fairly little at 8″ x 10″.)

Fortunately, this week’s landscape colors were surprisingly similar to when I began this painting last March. (With the winter we’ve had so far, I’m hoping it’s an indication of an early spring, as well.)

On the right, you can see part of the canvas, suggesting the subtle colors and the varied brushstrokes.

I’m very pleased with this painting, now that I’ve polished it into a more vibrant and representative work. The emotional content is richer, too.

The colors and textures have depth. I look at this painting and smile, because it’s tremendously evocative.

I’m still learning when to leave a good painting alone, and when my art can be improved upon with just a little finesse.

With this painting, the latter was definitely the case and the final product is truly good.

The Beauty of Cleaning

One of the best things about being an artist is the beauty I see everywhere.

When I was cleaning one of my palettes this past week, the running colors were so gorgeous, I had to capture them with a photo.

(Note: I paint with water-soluble oil paints, so I can clean them in the sink without toxic cleaners such as turpentine. My cleaning product of choice is Incredible Pink, a biodegradable general cleaner from Maine.)

The photo shows my palette in the sink. The picture was taken without a flash.

From left to right on my palette, here are the colors I routinely use for my paintings:

French ultramarine blue
Alizarin crimson
Cadmium red
Cadmium orange
Cadmium yellow
Lemon yellow
Pthalo blue
White (sometimes Zinc white, sometimes Titanium white)

I also add Sap green and/or Burnt umber for some paintings.

Of course, in the photo above, you can see the residue of lots of mixing on every square inch of the palette.

In a way, this is art, all by itself.

Orange Hills Revisited

This is an example of what happens when I look at one of my earlier sketches and all I feel is, “Well, it’s okay…”

I started with the oil sketch from January 8th, the Orange Hills at Sunset painting. Frankly, I was going to put it into eBay at a low starting price, just to keep the art moving. (If art just sits in my studio, I reach a point where I stop painting… creating empty space is vital!)

However, I just couldn’t do it. I mean, I don’t want to wince when I think of ho-hum paintings out there, when they could be so much better.

After about an hour of tweaking the eBay auction — never fully satisfied with it — I gave up and removed the auction listing. I put the canvas back on my easel and started working on it. This wasn’t just sketching… I wanted to push the colors into a far higher realm.

Of course, it helped that the sunset outside my window was cooperating.

At right, you can see an actual-size detail from the painting. I added a lot of color to bring the hills to life, and to give the sky more energy.

The original painting is lighter and more vibrant than this photo, but the picture shares the general idea. If you compare it with the sketch as completed on January 8th, you can probably see a significant improvement.

When the painting was finished, about an hour later, I decided that this will be a gift for HT’s mom. She’s a wonderful woman and I want her to have some of my artwork.

Orange Hills, Revisited
NH landscape at sunset
9″ x 12″ oil painting on canvas board
21 January 2011
Private collection

Colors After Dusk

Around dusk yesterday, our area lost all electric power. The silence was wonderful — no humming appliances — and no streetlights to influence the colors of the landscape.

As the skies darkened, I decided to sit near a window and paint.

The difficulty when painting in low-light conditions is that… well, in the darkness, I can’t see what I’m doing. Not really. As the sunlight faded, so did my sense of tone (light & dark). Without light to see clearly, I couldn’t judge the color intensity on my palette and on my canvas.

However, I completed two colors studies that may influence my future snow scenes.

The first is an 8″ x 10″ oil painting. It reminds me of some of my mother’s paintings, when she’d fall back to the style she used when she designed greeting cards and gift wrapping papers for Rust Craft.

I may use this as the basis of a Christmas card image, next year. I’m not sure.

Mostly, I’m pleased with the colors in the snow. The light was still adequate to see what I was painting, so I captured the subtle yellows, pinks and blues, particularly in the foreground.

The house is actually based on a store that I can see from my window. Without electricity lighting the signs in its windows, it looked more like someone’s home than a business.

After that, the light was really failing, but I kept painting anyway. It was mostly to observe the color; I knew that I probably wasn’t matching the landscape shades and hues.

The result is at right. It’s an 11″ x 14″ oil sketch. I’m surprised at how well the colors turned out.

However, it’s not an interesting painting for me, so I’ll probably paint over it.

Right now, it reminds me of the pale colors of the heavy brocade drapes in our living room when I was little. Though that’s a happy association, I’ll see how I feel about this painting when it dries. With time, I may decide that I like it.

Generally, I’m drawn more to vivid colors. Though these colors are accurate and represent the landscape at dusk… well, I’m still not sure how well I like it.

I’m sort of talking to myself about these two paintings. They’re not my usual work, but each has merit for different reasons.

I kept looking at them this morning as I completed another large Pandorica piece. This new one is for my son; I’ll be seeing him this weekend.

Two More Snow Scenes – In Progress

I’m still deciding how to represent the effects of snow on the landscapes outside my window.

These are two sketches from the snowstorm on Saturday evening.

I’m not sure if either of them is a completed work… yet.

The first is a piece that I thought I’d completed, but the more I look at it, the more I’m tempted to do more with the two sides… something very subtle, probably.

(The photo at left isn’t very good, in my opinion. My paintings are created to look their best from about 20 feet away. This one really doesn’t convey in a close-up photo.)

Here’s how that painting began:

I was looking at the hillside as the colors changed from vivid, sunny hues to something a little more lilac-to-muddy-lavender with the approaching storm.

My first thought was that I should have picked up some skinny canvases (10″ x 20″ or something like that) to do a narrow, vertical painting capturing the range of colors. To me, that’s odd. Generally, I’ve always worked with more horizontal images, not verticals.

Then, I decided to create a similar effect using areas of clearly divided color. The colors on either side of the sketch were intended to pick up the approaching darker clouds.

After scrubbing those in, I painted the center panel of the work, capturing the sunny and pastel shades before the storm arrived.

Finally, I used some deliberate brushstrokes to accent the side panels. You can see them in the close-up (actual size of the painting) at right.

Now, I’m thinking of doing a monochromatic (and very subtle) representation of the rest of the landscape on either side. The color would remain the same lavender-ish shade, just lighter & darker to represent the scene.

I’m going to let this painting dry before I decide.

It’s a 9″ x 12″ oil painting on stretched cotton canvas.

The second sketch

After painting the paneled piece, I wanted to capture the more monochromatic imagery after the sky darkened but before we were in nearly white-out conditions.

At left is the result. It’s another oil sketch on 9″ x 12″ canvas.

I’m not sure if it’s finished, either. I mean, it’s a good color study, but it’s not quite an actual painting.

I’m thinking of adding one of the buildings that’s part of the real view outside my window.

(Though I generally paint nature, and that’s all, my view includes a parking lot, two streets, and a couple of buildings between the hills and me.)

I’m pleased with both of these.

My next works may be more Tonalist. I’m not sure. I feel as if I’m pushing my artistic boundaries, exploring extremes that appeal to me. Somewhere in the in-between, I think I’ll find what expresses me most uniquely.

Or… well, my art may take several paths. I sometimes joke that I’m “short attention-span with a paintbrush.”

No matter what’s ahead, I feel that my work is becoming more passionate, expressive and energetic.

I like this!